A Touch of Malice

by Scarlett St. Clair

  Hermes snorted, appearing beside Persephone holding his plate and silverware. “You sit before gods and that is the question you choose to ask?”

  “Hermes, what are you doing?” Persephone asked.

  “I missed you,” he said and shrugged.

  As soon as the God of Mischief sat beside her, Apollo left the Olympian table to sit beside Ajax.

  “I think you started a movement, Hades,” Persephone said. One Zeus did not seem happy about, as his lips twisted into a scowl.

  Hades looked at her and smiled.

  “I have a question,” Thales said, grinning, his eyes glinting as he looked at Hades. “How will I die?”

  “Horribly,” Hades replied.

  The young man’s face fell.

  “Hades!” Persephone elbowed him.

  “Is-is that true?” the man asked.

  “He is just kidding,” Persephone said. “Aren’t you, Hades?”

  “No,” he replied, his tone far too serious.

  They ate in silence for a few awkward minutes until Zeus stood, clanking a gold spoon against a goblet of ambrosia so loud, Persephone thought the glass would shatter.

  “Oh no,” Hermes muttered.

  “What?” Persephone asked.

  “Zeus is going to give a speech. They’re always horrible.”

  The room went quiet, and all eyes turned to the God of Thunder.

  “We are gathered to celebrate my brother Hades,” he said. “Who has found a beautiful maiden he wishes to marry, Persephone—Goddess of Spring, daughter of dread Demeter.”

  Dread Demeter was right. Just the sound of her name made Persephone’s stomach twist.

  Hermes leaned over. “Did he just say maiden? As in a virgin? He has to know that isn’t true, right?”

  “Hermes!” Persephone seethed.

  Zeus continued.

  “Tonight, we celebrate love and those who have found it. May we all be so lucky, and, Hades—”

  Zeus lifted his glass and stared directly at them.

  “May the oracle bless your union.”

  After dinner, they returned to the open porch. Music began again, a sweet sound that swept through the air. As she searched for the source, she found Apollo played upon his lyre. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed, and she realized she had never seen him without tension in his face. She watched him for a long moment, until he opened his violet eyes and saw that they darkened with jealousy. Her gaze shifted to where Ajax stood across the room, signing animatedly with a man she did not recognize. Persephone was sure Ajax was just happy to communicate with someone without having to read their lips, but she was also not aware of how Apollo’s conversation with him—or Hector—had gone, or rather if he’d had it at all.

  “Shall we dance?” Hades asked, offering his hand to Persephone.

  “I would like nothing more,” she said as the God of the Dead led her into the crowd. He drew her close, and she felt his need press into her stomach. She met his gaze, heavy with desire, and raised a brow.

  “Aroused, my love?”

  Hades smirked—and she did not know if he smiled because of her candid question or her term of endearment.

  “Always, my darling,” he replied.

  Persephone reached between them, grasping his cock, her hand hidden in his robes.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, a sultry edge to his voice.

  “I don’t think I need to explain myself,” she said.

  “Are you trying to provoke me in front of these Olympians?”

  “Provoke you?” Persephone’s voice was breathy as she stroked him. She hated the fabric between them and wanted to feel his warmth in her palm. “I would never.”

  Hades’s jaw ticked and he gritted his teeth. His arms tightened around her; the closeness made it hard for her to move. She stared into his eyes as she spoke.

  “I am just trying to please you.”

  “You please me,” he said.

  Their faces were inches apart, and as Persephone’s eyes dipped to Hades’s lips, he closed his mouth over hers. The kiss was savage and demanding and not appropriate, and when he tore away, he spoke.

  “Enough!”

  The whole room grew silent, and Persephone’s eyes widened.

  But then he was kissing her again, his hands grasping low beneath her ass as he drew her legs around his waist, grinding into her so hard, she gasped.

  “Hades! Everyone can see!”

  “Smoke and mirrors,” he mumbled as he left her mouth, trailing kisses down her neck and shoulder. In the next second, they had teleported to a dark room, and Hades had her pinned against a wall.

  “Not so interested in exhibitionism?” she asked.

  “I cannot focus on you the way I wish and maintain the illusion,” he said as his fingers parted her hot flesh. Persephone moaned.

  “So wet.” He hissed. “I could drink from you, but for now, I’ll settle with tasting.”

  He pulled his fingers free and placed them into his mouth before planting that hand against the wall and kissing her.

  “Hades, I want you inside me,” she said, reaching between them. His robes seemed endless and were far more frustrating to part. “You once told me to dress for sex. Why can’t you?”

  Hades chuckled. “Perhaps if you were not so eager, darling, finding my flesh would be much easier,” he said as he easily unclasped his robes, revealing his muscled chest and engorged flesh.

  Her fingers closed around him greedily, and then he was inside her. They both groaned, and for a moment, neither moved.

  “I love you,” Hades said.

  She smiled, brushing pieces of his hair from his face. “I love you too.”

  Then he thrust, his fingers digging deep into her skin.

  “You feel so good,” he said.

  She could only manage one word as she focused on the feel of him pushing inside her.

  “More.”

  Hades groaned. “Come for me,” he said. “So that I may bathe in your warmth.”

  His command was reinforced with the movement of his thumb against her clit. A few teasing pulses and she was undone, her legs shakily hanging on, her body so heavy, she would have fallen had Hades not been holding her.

  “Yes, my darling,” Hades said, his fingers biting into her ass as he pumped into her harder, faster, coming inside her so hard, she felt the warmth of it, thick and heavy inside her. After, Hades let her legs go, keeping her upright with an arm around his waist. He brushed her hair away from her face, smoothing it into something that did not look so mussed.

  “Are you well?” he asked, still breathless.

  “Yes, of course,” she said and giggled. “And you?”

  “I am well,” he said and kissed her forehead before releasing her.

  Hades clasped his robes and helped Persephone clean up. Then her eyes shifted to the room where he had brought them. Though it was dark, the moonlight streamed in through windows all around, illuminating the entryway of a house. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen—partially open to the sky, with a floor of black-and-white marble that led to a staircase and other interior rooms.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “These are my accommodations,” he said.

  She stared at him. “You have a house on Olympus?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Though I rarely come here.”

  “How many houses do you have?”

  She could tell he was counting, which meant he had more than the three she was aware of—his palace in the Underworld, the home on the island of Lampri, and this one here on Olympus.

  “Six,” he said. “I think.”

  “You…think?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t use them all.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Anything else
you want to tell me?”

  “At this very moment?” he asked. “No.”

  “Who manages your estate?” she asked.

  “Ilias,” Hades replied.

  “Perhaps I should ask him about your empire.”

  “You could, but he would tell you nothing.”

  “I am certain I could persuade him,” she said.

  Hades frowned. “Careful, darling. I’m not opposed to castrating anyone you decide to tease.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  She shook her head, and then there was a knock on the door behind them. Hades groaned and opened the door. The God of Trickery stood opposite them, grinning.

  “Dinner wasn’t satisfying enough?”

  “Shut up, Hermes,” Hades snapped.

  “I was sent to retrieve you,” he said.

  “We were just on our way.”

  “Sure,” he said. “And I am a law-abiding citizen.”

  The three left Hades’s residence. Outside the home, they found themselves in a narrow alleyway. The stone walls on either side were covered in flowering ivy. She could hear the music of the celebration, the laughter and murmur of the crowd. They were not far from the temple.

  “Why do I get the feeling Zeus does not want Hades and I to wed?”

  “Probably because he’s a creep,” Hermes replied. “And would rather have you himself.”

  “I am not opposed to murdering a god,” Hades said. “Fuck the Fates.”

  “Calm down, Hades,” Hermes said. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

  Persephone frowned even deeper.

  “Don’t worry, Sephy. Let’s just see what the oracle says.”

  Once they had returned, Zeus’s response was immediate.

  “Now that you have decided to rejoin us,” he said, “perhaps you are ready to hear what the oracle will say about your marriage.”

  “I am very eager,” Persephone said, glaring at him.

  The god’s eyes glinted.

  “Then follow me, Lady Persephone.”

  They exited the temple, making their way across a courtyard full of beautiful flowers, lemon trees, and statues of cherub-faced children surrounding deities of fertility—Aphrodite, Aphaea, Artemis, Demeter, and Dionysus.

  Once they exited, they came to a narrow passage that let out into a barren marble courtyard. At its center was a round temple. Twenty columns surrounded the structure, and it was set high upon a platform. Wide steps led straight to oak doors—the left engraved with the image of an eagle, the right with the image of a bull. Inside the temple, a basin of oil sat at the center, and a set of ten lit torches hung in holders around the room. Overhead, there was an opening in the ceiling where the dark sky peeked through.

  Persephone was surprised to find that Hera and Poseidon joined them. Neither of them looked particularly pleased—not Hera with her head tilted stoically or Poseidon with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

  “My council,” Zeus said, when he saw Persephone hesitate.

  “I thought the oracle was your council,” she said.

  “The oracle speaks of the future, yes,” Zeus said. “But I have lived a long life, and I am aware that the threads of that future are ever-changing. My wife and brother know that too.”

  That was far wiser than Persephone expected—which, she reminded herself, was the danger of Zeus.

  She watched as the God of Thunder retrieved a torch from the wall.

  “A drop of your blood, if you will,” Zeus said, standing beside the basin. Persephone looked to Hades, who reached for her hand. They approached the basin, and as she did, she noticed a sharp needle-like object protruding from the edge. Hades placed his finger upon it and pressed until his blood slid down the gleaming metal. Holding his hand over the basin, he let a drop of blood fall into the oil. She followed his example, wincing as the needle pierced her skin. Once the blood was in the basin, Hades took her hand into his, drawing her finger into his mouth.

  “Hades!” She whispered his name, but when he released her hand, the cut was healed.

  “I do not wish to see you bleed.”

  “It was only a drop,” she whispered.

  The god did not reply, but she knew there was no way she could understand how he truly felt, seeing her injured, even so small.

  They stepped away from the basin, and Zeus lit the oil. It blazed quickly and burned in an unearthly shade of green. The smoke was thick and billowed. Slowly, the flames began to resemble a person—a woman cloaked in flames.

  “Pyrrha,” Zeus said. “Give us the prophecy of Hades and Persephone.”

  “Hades and Persephone,” the oracle repeated. Their voice was clear, cold, and ancient. “A powerful union—a marriage that will produce a god more powerful than Zeus himself.”

  And that was it. With the prophecy given, the fire vanished.

  There was a long silence where Persephone could stare at nothing but the basin.

  A marriage that will produce a power greater than Zeus himself.

  They were doomed. She knew the moment the words were spoken. Even Hades had stiffened.

  “Zeus.” Hades’s voice was dark, a frightening tone she had never heard before in her life.

  “Hades.” Zeus’s tone matched.

  “You will not take her from me,” Hades said.

  “I am king, Hades. Perhaps you need reminding.”

  “If that is your wish. I am more than happy to be the end of your reign.”

  A tense silence followed.

  “Are you pregnant?” Hera asked.

  Persephone’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Need I repeat myself?” Hera asked, annoyed.

  “That question is not appropriate,” Persephone said.

  “And yet it is important when considering the prophecy,” Hera replied.

  Persephone glared at the goddess.

  “Why is that?”

  “The prophecy states that your marriage will produce a god more powerful than Zeus. A child born of this union would be a very powerful god—a giver of life and death.”

  Persephone looked at Hades.

  “There is no child,” Hades said. “There will be no children.”

  Poseidon chuckled. “Even the most careful of men have children, Hades. How can you possibly ensure that when you cannot even get through a dance without leaving to fuck?”

  “I do not have to be careful,” Hades said. “It is the Fates who have taken my ability to have children. It is the Fates who wove Persephone into my world.”

  “Do you wish to remain childless?” The question came from Hera. Persephone could tell she was curious.

  “I want to marry Hades,” she said. “If I must remain childless, then I will.”

  But as she spoke the words, her chest ached—not for herself but for Hades. When he’d told her of the bargain he’d made, he had agonized, and she had quickly recognized that it was Hades who had wanted children.

  “You are certain you cannot have children, Brother?” Zeus asked.

  “Very,” Hades gritted out.

  “Let them marry, Zeus,” Poseidon said. “Obviously they wish to fuck as husband and wife.”

  Persephone really hated Poseidon.

  “And if the marriage produces a child?” Zeus asked. “I do not trust the Fates. Their threads are ever-moving, ever-changing.”

  “Then we take the child,” Hera said.

  Persephone held on to Hades’s hand so tight, she thought his fingers might break. All she could think was do not speak—do not protest.

  “There will be no child,” Hades repeated, adamant.

  There was a long moment where Hades and Zeus stood opposite one another, glaring. It was so hot in this room, and each breath Persephone took felt l
ike it was clawing its way out of her throat. She needed to get out of here.

  “I will bless this union,” Zeus said at last. “But if the goddess ever becomes pregnant, the infant must be terminated.”

  At Zeus’s words, Hades wasted no time leaving. One second, they stood in the temple on Olympus, and the next, they were in the Underworld.

  Dizzy, Persephone hit the ground and vomited.

  Chapter XXXI

  A Touch of Forever

  “It’s okay,” Hades said. He knelt beside her, gathering her to him, brushing her hair out of her sweaty face as she sobbed.

  “It’s not,” she said. “It isn’t.”

  They had demanded her child. She did not even know if it was possible for her to ever conceive, but the idea that Zeus would take her child devastated her.

  “I will destroy him,” she said. “I will end him.”

  “My darling, I have no doubt,” Hades said. “Come, on your feet.”

  She rose with him, and Hades took her face between his hands. “Persephone, I would never—will never—let them have any part of you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, despite wondering how he could stop them. Zeus was determined to eliminate any and all threats—except the ones that mattered. There was a part of her that did not even trust his blessing.

  Hades took her to the baths, to a smaller pool than the one they usually used. This one was round and raised.

  “Let me,” Hades said, helping her out of her gown and into the pool. The water was warm and came to her breasts. Hades knelt, lathering a bar of soap between the folds of a cloth. She shivered as he began washing her—starting with her back, her shoulders, her arms. When he reached her breasts, his movements slowed, and he ran the cloth over her in soft passes until her nipples beaded beneath his touch. When she could take no more, she reached for his wrists.

  “Hades,” she breathed.

  His eyes burned into hers, and he leaned forward and kissed her. Persephone’s arms wound around his neck, and she drew him closer, covering him in soap.

  “I want you,” she breathed as his lips left hers.

  “Marry me,” he said.

  She laughed. “I already said yes.”

  “You have, so marry me. Tonight.”

  Her brows knitted together as she studied him, gauging his seriousness.