“We?” Hades asked.
He liked the way Persephone bit her lip. “I’m asking you if I can plan a party in the Underworld.”
He blinked, slightly confused. How had they gotten here? She’d just questioned his motives for The Halcyon Project, yet she was now planning to celebrate with his people in his realm.
“Hecate has already agreed to help,” she added, as if that would sway him, her palms flattening on his chest.
That amused him, and his brows rose. “Has she?”
“Yes. She’s thinking we should have a ball.”
He was not doing a good job focusing on the words coming out of her mouth. The only one he really heard was we, and she kept using it. He wanted to use it, too. We should go to bed. We should make love for hours. We should bathe together and fuck some more.
“Are you trying to seduce me so I’ll agree to your ball?” he asked.
“Is it working?”
He smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him, pressing his hard length into her stomach.
“It’s working,” he whispered against her ear, lips brushing down the side of her neck before closing over her mouth. His hands moved over her bottom, and he cupped her ass, pressing into her. When he released her, her eyes were alight with desire, and he wondered if she would pleasure herself tonight, thinking of him inside her. He knew he would.
“Plan your ball, Lady Persephone.”
“Come home soon, Lord Hades.”
He smiled at her words before vanishing and held onto them as he appeared in the shadows of the golden-floored Council Chamber, where the gods were gathered. Columns lined the room in the shape of an oval, and within those columns, were twelve thrones, one for each of the Olympians. They were all distinct in creation, composed of symbols unique to the god.
Zeus’ sat at the head of the oval upon a throne made of oak, a thunderbolt and a gold scepter crossed on the back. His eagle, a golden bird, was perched upon the scepter, his name Aetos Dios. He was a spy Hades would prefer to roast on a spit, but he’d rather not be the cause of drama at council, so he refrained. Zeus looked the most like their father, a large man with wavy hair and a full beard. Upon his head, he wore a crown of oak leaves, one of his many symbols.
Beside him sat Hera. She was beautiful but rigid, and Hades always thought she looked uncomfortable beside her husband, something Hades could not really blame her for. The God of the Skies was known for fornicating across eternity, and descending to the modern world had made no difference. The Goddess of Women sat in a throne of gold, save for the back, which resembled the colorful feathers of a peacock—brilliant iridescent blue, turquoise, and green.
Next came Poseidon, whose throne looked like his weapon, the trident, made for him before the Battle of Titanomachy by the three Elder Cyclopes. Beside him was Aphrodite, whose throne mimicked a shell, pink in color and draped with pearls and blush-colored flowers. Then came Hermes, whose throne was gold, the back made to look like his herald’s wand—a winged staff with two snakes intertwined.
After, was Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth, whose throne was ruby red and made in the form of flames. Ares flanked her, sitting upon a pile of skulls, some white and others yellowed from age. They were all from people—mortal and immortal—and monsters he’d killed.
Beside him was Artemis, to her great dismay, as she—no one—got along with Ares. Her throne was simple, a gold-toned half-moon. Beside her sat Apollo, whose seat mimicked the sun’s rays in the form of a glimmering aureole circling behind him. Next was Demeter, whose seat looked more like a moss-covered tree, rich with white and pink flowers, and ivy spilling to the floor. Beside her, Athena, whose throne was a set of silver and gold wings. She sat, beautiful and poised, face expressionless, crowned with a gold circlet set with blue sapphires. Lastly, between the throne of Athena and Zeus, was Hades’， a black obsidian seat made of lethal, jagged edges, much like his in the Underworld.
The only god who spoke was Zeus, and everyone else looked angry or bored, except Hermes. Hermes looked amused.
Probably still laughing at his joke, Hades thought.
Hades wasn’t sure what Zeus was talking about, but he thought he must be telling a story because he was saying, “I mean, I am not an unreasonable god, so I said—”
Hades stepped out from his hiding spot and walked down the center of the oval. Zeus’ voice boomed, echoing all around.
“Hades! Late as usual, I see.”
He ignored his brother’s judgement and took the seat beside him.