My Lord Hades Page 14

  “Your mother might not intentional hurt you, but she didn’t protect you either. You’ve spent your life scrounging around like a pathetic worm instead of the goddess of unimaginable power that you are.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at Persephone. “For once Hades is right. You need to be able to defend yourself, because when the truth of your parentage comes to light, all will seek you out for their wife. Whether you like it or not, you’re a goddess and a Queen. So act like the Queen I know lurks beneath this pathetic shell and take control of your future.”

  Persephone tried to leave. She didn’t want to speak with this woman anymore and she hoped the woman would take the hint and go away. But, to Persephone’s dismay, she didn’t.

  She jerked Persephone to her. They stood toe to toe, eye to eye. In her mind, she saw the truth of the goddess, the cruelty and the violence and the maternal need to protect her son. She was the darkness, the force of nature that wouldn’t be stopped. She was Eris, the battle goddess of Discord. She was one of the first, as old as Time and Death. She was Hades’ mother.

  “My son deserves the misery you’ll rain upon him.”

  Persephone tried to pull away, only the woman’s hold was like iron. Eris’ eyes narrowed and she touched Persephone’s cheek in an oddly motherly way. Persephone felt a feathery stroke in her mind. Her vision blurred and there was a small pop in her head. In that instant, she saw a faint light within her mind.

  “Get away from me!”

  A sudden rush of power struck Eris and she stumbled back with a gasp. Persephone

  swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. How did she do that? Could she do it again?

  She reached for the light in her mind and found only darkness. Why couldn’t she access the magic inside? It was as if the area of her mind where the magic resided was closed to her, and though the magic still called to her, it was minute.

  “By the gods and daemons!” Eris cursed, laughing with a sort of manic joy. “You don’t

  remember me. You don’t remember anything. You’re trapped in a hell of your own making,

  without the power to improve it.” She shook her head. “You have no idea what you are?”

  Persephone blinked and glanced at Eris, who was sitting on the ground as if that is where she wanted to be rather than where Persephone had pushed her. “I’m the goddess Persephone,

  daughter of Demeter and Zeus.”

  “Don’t forget, Queen of the Underworld and wife of Hades.”

  “I’m not staying here.”

  Eris shook her head, standing up. “Then be aware. If you eat of the food of the dead, no promises ever made to you can return you to the world above. You’ll be trapped here forever.

  And if you sleep with my son, if you consummate your mock marriage, you are his wife

  forever.”

  “My Queen? Lady Eris?”

  They turned to the servant.

  “Yes,” Eris said.

  “I’m not your Queen,” Persephone protested.

  “Yet,” Eris added with a challenge in her eye.

  “My Lord Hades, bid me to show you to your rooms, my Lady Persephone.”

  In a flash, Eris was gone.

  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

  HADES TAPPED his fingers on the chair of his throne. Patience. He had to be patient with

  her. However, as patient as he could be on the battlefield, when the line between defeat and victory hung in the balance and a single second determined the outcome, he was still a man of action. This whole notion of waiting for Persephone to come to him was proving most difficult.

  What had it been so far? Days? Three days? Three days holed up in her bedroom?

  On one level, he could understand Persephone’s reaction. After all, he’d uprooted her from her predictable life, taken her from her controlling mother, and surprised her with the

  announcement that she was his wife and queen of the dismal Underworld. It was a lot for a woman to take in. On another level, he couldn’t figure her out. He’d offered her riches beyond her wildest dreams, freedom to do as she pleased, and to return her magic to her. He gave her everything she wanted and she wouldn’t have it because they were from him.

  Her rejection stung the very core of his existence, but he wasn’t ready to give up on

  Persephone without a fight. He was a warrior and hunter, and would use the same strategies he employed upon the battlefield with her, he would attempt to gain some ground with considerate gestures.

  Walking down the hall to Persephone’s rooms, he halted before her door and gently tapped

  on the black stained oak.

  “Go away!”

  “Persephone, I know you’re angry at me—”

  “Furious!”

  “But I thought you might like to eat. I brought you ambrosia and nectar from Mount

  Olympus.”

  “Leave it outside the door!”

  “This is the last meal that will be delivered to your door,” he said, setting the tray on the floor with a loud clatter. He winced, hoping the ruse would force her out “Are the rooms acceptable?”

  “They’re hideous!”

  “I’ll get Penelope and if you would let us in and tell me what you prefer, I would more than happy to teach you how to change your décor.”

  Silence.

  “Do you require a change of clothing?”

  More silence.

  He sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he expected. He knocked again.

  “Persephone?”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  He waited. Silence.

  “When you are ready to speak with me, call my name.”

  He took a deep breath, turned on his heel, and strode back to the throne room. He hoped this would soon end. He needed to be near her, feel the caress of her energy against his. He needed to convince her that she belonged with him.

  Aggravated, he wrapped his cloak around him. He’d make his daily rounds in the

  Underworld, to make sure everything was running as it should be, and be back by dinner.

  Hopefully. she’d leave her bedroom while he was gone. He wouldn’t let his irritation show.

  Patience. He needed to be patient. It was a strategy that was bound to work. After all, how long could a woman be happy to remain in one room all day? How long could she fight the attraction between them? He was acutely aware of it. It haunted him day and night. It had to affect her too.

  PERSEPHONE BIT her lower lip, silencing the words that would call his retreating footsteps back and slumped against the door. What was wrong with her?

  Hades was the enemy. He’d take her from her home and from her mother. He’d kidnapped

  her. And she was acting like a lovesick nymph!

  But who wouldn’t find him adorable. He accepted the boundary she’d established. He brought her every meal. He never threatened her. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. The sound of his voice sent shivers of pleasure though her. She craved his company, his kisses, and his touch.

  Would she have the strength of will to stop him if he came for her?

  She shivered. She was his prisoner, even her rooms. The suite was the most elegant and

  simple she’d ever seen, but it added to the dark, gloomy, miserable ambiance. The solar, like every chamber in the palace she’d seen so far, was pure white marble with black furniture and deep red cushions. The color motif also found its way to the rugs on the floor and the tapestries on the wall which was reflected in the three silver mirrors on the wall.

  The bedroom was no different. The lavish canopy bed, adorned in black curtains and silk

  sheets with a thick red blanket, made her cringe. What was it with the color scheme? Had Hades decorated the place? Or had another and he just didn’t care?

  Not that it matter, the dark furnishing only added to the ominous mood of the dimly lit room.

  The whole palace, even the andronitis, which should have been bri
ght and cheery considering it surrounded a garden, was gloomy.

  Opening the door, she peered out into the empty corridor. He wasn’t standing outside the

  room to her relief and disappointment, but a tray of food and a metal circlet with a purple and yellow stones sat outside the door.

  She brought it into the room and quickly ate the ambrosia and drank the nectar, licking sugar from her fingers before lifting the circlet for a better inspection. She laughed when she realized it was a crown of flowers. The exquisite piece of craftsmanship was carved by a loving hand. Each flower was individual and thornless. It was a crown made for a queen.

  For Hades’ Queen. For the Queen of the Underworld. Not for Persephone. Not for the

  daughter of Demeter and Zeus.

  She placed the crown upon her head. She could be Hades’ queen and rule at his side. He

  promised her freedom and protection. Although he might not love her, he would cherish her, and maybe someday he would grow to love her. She could have everything she ever dreamed of and more, all she had to do was give up the sunlight and world above.

  You can’t trust him, a small voice whispered. Men use force to get their way. They are dangerous.

  The fire crackling in the hearth did nothing to warm the chill in her soul. She jerked the circlet from her head and threw it on the bed. How many times did she need to be warned against Hades before she listened? How many times did she need to be burned before she realized the fire was dangerous? Was she so dim-witted as to tempt fate and call him to her?

  The answer was yes. For magic, she would tempt it. For a chance to regain her memories, she would tempt it. For a chance at life, she would tempt trusting Hades.

  Persephone left her rooms. Hades had granted her full access to the Underworld and she

  planned to take full advantage. It was time to prove his words true or false.

  Chapter 16

  PERSEPHONE WAS lost in seconds of leaving her rooms. Hades palace was a maze of

  corridors with hundreds of rooms. What did one god and his two servants need so many rooms for? It wasn’t as if anyone wanted to visit the dreary Underworld. Other than her, most of the other gods feared and despised him.

  After a while curiosity got the better of her and she started exploring the rooms. She didn’t find anything of true interest.

  Voices in the corridor sent her flying through one of the doors. She closed the door with a soft click and turned. The room was basically empty except for a statue carelessly thrown into the corner of the room. It tilted on its base, leaning precariously against the wall, a piece of cloth thrown over the main body of it, leaving a part of the face uncovered.

  Why didn’t Hades have this statue displayed like she’d seen the Olympians do at Mount

  Olympus? Why was it hidden away in this remote room?

  Walking to the statue, she jerked the cloth off and gasped. Her face heated. She wasn’t sure what she should do. She didn’t want to be caught in here with a naked statue of a man, but she didn’t want to go out there to face Hades either.

  She stared at the softer, younger Hades. There were none of the scars she’d seen on his arms or hands or the one she’d felt on his face. She reached out, her fingers caressing the cold marble, exploring the musculature of the statues neck, shoulders, and arms noting the difference between the statue and the Hades she knew. The statue was thin, his muscles not as well-defined as the real Hades.

  Her hands dropped lower, gliding over the abdomen, the flanks, and to that part of a man she was most curious about. Biting her lip, her eyes dropped lower, studying the man part the nymphs had told her about. It was strange looking, not at all like the stick Julas and Rayes said it was. It didn’t poke straight out, but lay in a bed of curls.

  Was this what it really looked like? And if so, what was so important about it?

  “GO FIND her!” Penelope demanded, pointing toward the door.

  Hades sighed and closed his books. Handing a smirking Thanatos another list to take to the judges before leaving to search for his errant bride.

  It wasn’t hard to find Persephone, all he had to do was think of her and he knew exactly

  where she was. She’d surprised him by being in the palace instead of attempting to escape the Underworld.

  He flashed into the room and stopped cold. Persephone was standing before a statue of him Eris had commissioned when he was a youth of sixteen, a harmless joke turned cruel. The statue reminded him of what he had lost to the art of battle.

  It wasn’t a very accurate depiction of him either. First, he’d never have sat still long enough for an artist to sketch him, believing it was a waste of one’s precious time and resources. Second, even in his youth, his body had been a hardened battle machine, not in any way as soft as the statue looked. And third, he wasn’t vain enough to ever want a statue of himself; he hadn’t even known it still existed.

  He watched her; envious of the stone bastard she was touching. Head tilted, Persephone’s

  fingers stoked the sleeping manhood. Her boldness shocked and pleased him, just as the pink rising in her cheeks amused him. So innocent, and so very seductive.

  Desire flared. His cock strained against his belly. His body aching for her hands to fondle and explore him as she did the sculpted manhood. He yearned to see the same fascination in her eyes as she looked at him. He wanted to see that fascination turn to desire as he took her into his arms and kissed her, entered her, and made love to her.

  He breathed in the sweet fragrance of honey and lavender. She was his weakness. And in his world, weakness of any kind was an invitation to those with more power. If his enemies, for he didn’t doubt they were about, learned of her, they would use her against him as the Titans had used Leuce. He couldn’t allow it. And yet, he couldn’t stop moving toward her. She was his salvation, his link to happiness and love. She was only person standing between him and the darkness.

  You’re a fool, his conscience snarled. You think she can love you? You’re the son of Eris!

  You’re a warrior! A killer in human form! All you’ve ever known is the art of death and war.

  What do you have to offer her?

  He had nothing to offer this gorgeous woman, not even a kingdom. Everything here belonged to the Iron Queen and he was an unwanted usurper. Maybe he should just ask Thanatos to end it all.

  The magic around him shifted with his mood. “Are you wondering if it’s like the real thing?”

  Persephone stiffened. She jerked her hand back with a horrified gasped and hid her face from him.

  SHE DIDN’T know when the warm scent of sandalwood and vanilla first reached her, but

  she knew he was in the room as she’d wanted him to be when the vibrant cascade of energy

  washed over.

  The sweet taste of hope. The depth of despair. The emptiness of loss, of loneliness, and of sadness. The raging need to connect with another living being.

  Mortified, she stiffened.

  “Are you wondering if it’s like the real thing?” he whispered from behind her.

  She jerked her hands away with a gasp and hid her face from him. Heat rose in her cheeks.

  She closed her eyes tight and hoped he wasn’t really here, but knowing he was.

  “Somewhat,” she murmured, brushing her hand on the silky material of her azure dress.

  “Flesh and blood grows,” he said, his breath warm and light on her neck.

  Her eyes flutter, her belly flipped, and her knees weakened. She nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. After what he’d done, how could he still affect her so?

  Exhaling an unsteady breath, she said the second thing that came to mind, since the first one to question him about his vague remark about ‘Flesh and blood grows,’ and it seemed

  inappropriate to discuss with him. “I didn’t hear the door open.”

  Her voice sounded strange, low and husky. His soft chuckle did something odd to her insides.

  She shi
vered, her body warm and tingling.

  Why did she have to be so attracted to him? None of the other gods gave her the same thrill Hades did. Her breath didn’t quicken for them. Her heart didn’t pound for them. Her body didn’t tingle for them.

  “Gods such as us do not need doors.”

  “Truly!” she gasped. “Show me how?”

  Before she could rethink her words, Hades swept her into his arms and nearly crushed her

  against his hard body. She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck as the absence of light and weight, and then they were in the andronitis. Next he took her to the River Styx, then to the Elysian Fields, and back to palace.

  She pulled away, laughing and swirling. “Why do you ride a horse when you have such

  freedom of movement?”

  He smiled. “A horse has its own merits, Persephone.” He motioned to the door behind her.

  “Penelope was worried about you when you disappeared from your rooms. You’d better tell her you’re all right.”

  He turned away, stiffly walking down the corridor. “Hades?” He paused, but didn’t turn

  around. “Will you be here for dinner?”

  “Is that your wish?”

  She bit her lip, wanting to say yes. The door opened saving her from having to say anything.

  “Persephone! There you are child!” Penelope swept her into a hug. “Did Hades find you?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked back at the place Hades had been standing, but he wasn’t there.

  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

  AFTER MIDDAY meal Persephone decided to finish her explorations of the palace. She

  steered clear of the room with the statue of Hades and headed for the southern tower.

  She opened the door after door, finding room after room filled with racks of wooden rods

  with sharp points and very long and thick knifes that had to be made for giants. There were other rooms filled with axes of various lengths and sizes, and others with bows and arrows, something she recognized from Athena’s visit. Three of the rooms had something she recognized from her abduction by Hades, armor. Some were black as his while others were shiny silver or darkened bronze or copper.