For a moment, I think he won’t respond, but he finally nods. “People are already primed to fear Hades. As you keep pointing out, the title is the boogeyman of Olympus. I use that, amplify that.” He motions around the room. “I have exclusive parties for carefully selected members of the upper city here. My tastes already ran kinky; I simply use that predilection to serve my purposes.”
I study the room, focusing on the throne. All the better to create the larger-than-life image of Hades, a dark king to Zeus’s golden one. Neither of the images they present to their audience are the truth, but I much prefer Hades’s version. “So you sit there and preside over this den of iniquity and indulge your desires in a way that gives everyone watching a shiver of fear and a story to whisper.”
“Yes.” Something strange in his voice makes me turn to look at him. Hades is staring at me like I’m a puzzle he’s dying to put together. He leans forward. “They really don’t know what an asset you are in the upper city, do they?”
I paint my usual sunshine smile across my features. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re wasted on those fools.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Hades rises slowly. All he needs is a cape to flow around him to complete the menacing-sexy picture he creates. “Shall I give you a demonstration of how our first night here will go?”
Suddenly, this is all too real. A shiver works its way through me that’s part nerves, part anticipation. “Yes, Sir.”
He glances at my feet. “Are they bothering you?”
Truth be told, they already ache just from standing here for a few minutes. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Nothing you can’t handle,” he repeats slowly and shakes his head. “You’ll run your body right into the ground, given half a chance. I wondered if that first night was the exception, but it’s not, is it? It’s the rule.”
I flinch, guilt flickering through me even as I tell myself I have no reason to feel guilty. It’s my body. I can do with it what I need to in order to survive. If sometimes my flesh bears the cost? That’s the price of life. To distract myself from the uncomfortable feeling unfurling within me, I take another step back. “I said it’s fine, and I mean it.”
“I will take your word on it. This time.” He continues before I can say anything. “But I will be checking your bandages at the end of the night, and if you’ve damaged yourself further out of stubbornness, there will be consequences.”
“You are outstandingly arrogant. It’s my body.”
“Wrong. For the duration of this scene, it’s my body.” He motions to the low stage set up in the center of the room. “Up.”
I’m still processing that statement as I set my hand in his and allow him to assist me the mere twelve inches up onto the dais. It’s not high, but it gives the impression of looking down at the rest of the room. Of being on display. It doesn’t matter that there’s no one else here but us. Imagining all the chairs and couches filled has my heartbeat kicking into high gear.
Hades releases my hand. “Stay there a moment.”
I watch him weave through the furniture to a nondescript door tucked behind a carefully draped curtain. A few seconds later, a set of lights flick on over the dais. They aren’t particularly bright, but in the relative darkness, they immediately cut off my view of the room. I swallow hard. “You weren’t kidding about making a scene, were you?”
“No.” His voice comes from an unexpected direction—to my right and slightly behind me.
I turn to face him, but I can’t see much in the glare. “What is this?”
“Tell me your safe word.”
Not an answer, but did I really expect one? I can’t tell if he’s trying to scare me or if this truly is a preview of what he intends to do in front of an audience. I lick my lips. “Pomegranate.”
“Take off your dress.” This time, he speaks from somewhere in front of me.
My hands fall to the hem of the dress and I hesitate. I don’t think I’m shy, but every remotely sexual encounter I’ve had to date has been behind closed doors and mostly in the dark. The exact opposite of this experience. I close my eyes, trying to still the shaking in my body. This is what I want, what I asked for. I grip the hem and begin to lift.
Cool air teases my thighs, the lower curve of my ass, my hips.
“Persephone.” His voice is deceptively mild.