“If you lay one filthy finger on her, I’ll skin you alive.”
“I’m going to lay more than one finger on her.” I force a thread of amusement into my voice. “It’s funny, don’t you think? That she’d rather welcome every depraved thing I want to do to that tight little body than let you touch her.” I chuckle. “Well, I think it’s funny.”
“Hades, this is the last time I’ll make this offer. You’d do well to consider it.” The anger disappears from Zeus’s voice, leaving only icy calm in its wake. “Return her to me within the next twenty-four hours, and I’ll pretend this never happened. Keep her, and I’ll destroy everything you love.”
“Too late, Zeus. That ship sailed thirty years ago.” When he caused the fire that killed my parents and left me covered in scars. I let the pause stretch out several beats before I say, “Now it’s my turn.”
Chapter 8
Persephone
A small selection of dresses is delivered to me by a tall brunette with a surly attitude who looks like she could crush my head with one hand. I don’t catch her name before she’s gone, leaving me alone once again.
The call with my sisters went about as well as can be expected. They’re furious I’m cutting them out for their own good. They think my plan is terrible. I’m certain they’ll continue to try to find another option, but I can’t stop them.
It’s almost enough to distract me from the sun tracking across the sky and down to the horizon. From the knowledge of what comes next. Or, rather, the lack of knowledge. Hades is a fan of dire statements with little information to support them. He instructs me to be ready but gives me no information about what I’m supposed to be ready for. And there’s that kiss. I’ve spent most of the day trying and failing to avoid thinking about how good it felt to have his mouth on mine. If he hadn’t stepped away, I don’t know what I would have done, and that should scare me.
Everything about this situation should scare me, but I’m not about to let Hades intimidate me into backing out. Whatever he has planned for tonight, it can’t be worse than Zeus. That, I’m sure of.
I take my time getting ready. This room offers a surprising selection of hair products, which leads me to wonder if Hades has a habit of keeping women here. None of my business. I could walk out of this room and this house at any time, and that’s all I need to know.
The dresses are all beautiful but several sizes too big for me. I shrug and pull on the simplest one, a beaded sheath that’s a similar style to the dress I had on last night. The beads add some weight to the fabric, and it swings in a really satisfying way. I’m eyeing the shoes the woman left and considering my options when a knock sounds on my door.
Showtime.
I take a deep breath and pad to open the door. Hades stands there and, good gods, I’ve never seen a man pull off a black-on-black suit the way Hades can. He’s like a living shadow, a sexy, sexy living shadow. He looks down and glares at my feet. I shuffle back, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m just putting on shoes.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
I grasp on to my irritation with both hands. Better to step onto a verbal battleground than to let fear and uncertainty override everything. “I’m not being absurd.”
“You’re right. Wearing high heels after your feet were maimed less than twenty-four hours ago isn’t absurd. It’s stupid.” He’s full-on glowering now. “Just like running through Olympus in nothing more than a silk dress in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t know why we’re bringing that up again.”
“We’re bringing that up because I’m beginning to see a trend of you not prioritizing your health and safety.”
I blink. “Hades, they’re just shoes.”
“The fact remains.” He steps into the room, his intent clear.
I dance back. “Don’t you dare pick me up.” I swat at the air between us. “I’ve had about enough of that.”
“Cute.” He sounds like it’s anything but. Hades moves so quickly that even anticipating him, I barely let out an undignified squawk before he lifts me into his arms.
I freeze. “Put me down.” Kissing Hades earlier was one thing. Agreeing to sleep with him was something else. This is totally different. Having him hold me close as he walks through the hallways of his house so I don’t hurt myself further… It feels very, very different. Knowing that he doesn’t want me to injure myself was a useful tool in negotiating this morning. Now it just feels like a hurdle I’m not sure how to get past. “You don’t need to take care of me.”