if he could learn more about them, he could remove it. All he found was that it was strong, stronger than any Titan or Olympian could manage, and it was slowly disintegrating.
He wanted to release her, to break open the cracks in the barrier, but he knew the danger all too well. If done slowly, over a period of time, she’d forgo the spin into madness he’d
experienced. If done now, he risked causing her more harm.
He sobered immediately. “I have to go.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
He placed his finger under her chin and raised her face to him. She was so pretty, the sunlight revealing the trust in her face as she gazed up at him. He brushed her earlobe with his thumb, cupping her chin in his calloused hand.
His gaze traveled from her indigo eyes to her lush lips. They remained slightly apart, moist and inviting. He imagined nibbling on the full bottom lip and delving into the warmth of her mouth. He wanted to explore her.
He willed his breathing to slow, understanding that only her innocence allowed him to touch her, and he refused to take advantage of that sweetness. It was refreshing to be in the presence of an honest soul that the world hadn’t tarnished. And he felt a fierce need to keep it that way.
“No, sweetling. I want…”
He wanted to kiss her luscious lips and taste magic and passion flowing beneath her skin. He wanted to lay her back on the loam and claim her as his mate. He wanted to take her far away from this place and those who had hurt her. But he couldn’t. A man like him could never touch a woman as delicate as her and not destroy it.
“I want us to be friends, but right nowI have business at Mount Olympus.”
She leaned forward, the full length of her body pressing against his, her hands resting on his shoulders. His hand dropped to the small of her back. Her silky hair brushed his fingers. Her breasts crushed against his chest and her pelvis settled against his hip bone.
The light touch of her warm mouth against his shocked him. The contact was brief, but left his lips tingling. She rose and stepped away. The simple action left him both relieved and frustrated.
“Then friends we shall be.”
She turned and walked away. Hades watched her from his place on the ground as she traveled up the hill to the small villa nestled close to the top. His body refused to respond to his commands. She deserved a kind and gentle god. She deserved better than a killer for a friend.
Persephone nearly hummed with excitement. She’d met Hades again. She’d spoken with
him, touched him. And now she understood a measure of the nymphs’ fascination with men.
His face had been rough, his shoulders and arms strong. But there was more to the man than that. Hades spoke with her as if she were a woman and not a child. He’d answered what few questions she’d asked of him with honesty. He showed interest in her. His touch was electrifying, warming her body and soul. Something in him called to her. He promised companionship,
adventure, and an end to the loneliness they shared.
She glided into the villa, a smile on her face. She knew she would see him again. She sat at the table with Aunt Hestia and began to eat her meal of strawberries and apples mixed with ambrosia and nectar with vigor. She didn’t think anything had tasted so good in her life.
“What has put you in such a good mood tonight?” Hestia asked.
Persephone shoved the fruit salad into her mouth and chewed it slowly, thinking furiously for a reason. “I’m happy the war is over and we are safe here. Mother will be home soon, won’t she?”
“I’m already here.”
Persephone gasped and turned to the door. She lept from her chair and rushed into her
mother’s arms. “I missed you.”
Her mother drew in a shaky breath, and though she didn’t move, her aura of magic trembled.
“I was only gone a day.”
The statement seemed to hold more meaning than the simple phrase implied. “What’s
wrong?”
Demeter glanced at her and then away. Something was definitely wrong. “You were always a
perceptive child. I went to secure our place among the gods. Only things didn’t turn out as planned. You are to meet the Olympians, my dear child.”
Persephone began to smile. “You mean…I’ll finally meet the gods of the nymphs’ stories.”
“What stories?!” Demeter’s soft voice turned hard and angry.
Persephone winced. She tread on dangerous ground and her inner voice warned her to be
wary of her mother. Though why she should, the soft voice wouldn’t or couldn’t divulge.
“They told me of Hermes stealing Apollo’s cattle and repaying the theft with a lyre. Then there are Hermes flying sandals. Or stories of the virgin Artemis in the forests, who needs no man, hunting animals with her bow and with her maidens. What’s a virgin, Mother?” She didn’t stop to let her mother explain but rushed on. “Or there was the story of Athena springing from Zeus’ head. And recently they told me of Hades’ defiance toward Coronus, and Zeus rescuing him from Tartarus, and his defeat of the Titans.”
Demeter shook her head, her face softening. “When we do go to Olympus, Persephone, you
must stay away from Hades.”
She frowned. “Why, Mother? Rayes said he was a gentleman when she tripped in front of
him. He picked her up and sent her on her way.”
Hestia snorted.
“Because I said so!” Demeter snapped. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands before her,
and took several deep breaths. “Please, just obey me.”
The urge to comply with her mother’s command was strong. “Please, Mother, why do you
hate this god so? I need to understand.”
Demeter sighed. “He’s a daemon. He’s an evil man who murdered hundreds. He’s killed his
wife.”
Persephone knew daemons were fearful immortals, yet the horror she saw in her mother’s
and aunt’s faces were not mirrored in her own face. She couldn’t bring herself to fear Hades.
“He was justly imprisoned by Coronus for defiance of Titan law.”
“Did we not too defy Titan Law?” Persephone asked.
“He attacked your grandfather in his own home,” Demeter snapped.
“So did the Olympians.”
“He causes death and mayhem wherever he goes, child,” Hestia said. “His life is not one of peace and harmony such as yours.”
Persephone frowned. Try as she might, she couldn’t connect the god they spoke of with her Hades. He wasn’t that man; she was sure of it. There was no desire to harm anyone.
She promised herself, and him, that no matter what she heard about him, she would hold tight to her memory of him in the forest, and maybe one day she could ask him about the tales she’d learned about him. She knew in her heart she could trust him to tell the truth.
Chapter 7
PERSEPHONE STOOD at the window, staring at the chariot pulled by two winged horses of
pale gold, landing in the middle of her mother’s prized flower bed. Their massive hooves turned the moist soil and destroyed the carefully cultivated plants.
Demeter joined Persephone at the window. “What are—”
Demeter rushed out of the villa, waving her hands and screaming at the blond charioteer. The woman glanced down at the ground, an eyebrow cocked, and shrugged. Persephone tried not to laugh at the sight of her small mother berating the tall, muscular charioteer who looked
indifferent to the whole mess.
The woman led her horses out of the garden, destroying more plants. Her mother turned on
her heel and stalked back to the house. The door opened and slammed shut.
“Stop gawking, Persephone, and get your things,” Demeter snapped. “Your father insists on meeting you before the party.”
Persephone nodded. Her mother’s temper was on a short fuse, and since her last visit to
Ol
ympus, it had only gotten worse. Persephone had spent the last two days keeping her distance.
She would awaken early and take a picnic into the meadow to pick flowers or just to daydream of Hades. Her mother barely reacted to her disappearances, waving her away so she could sit in her chair and stare out the window toward Olympus with a melancholy look.
“Is Zeus a good god, Mother?”
Demeter frowned and glanced at Persephone. The long pause told Persephone enough.
“Of course he is. He wouldn’t be King of the Gods if he wasn’t. Why do you ask?”
Persephone shrugged. “I just wanted to know what kind of god my father is.”
Demeter’s mouth formed a tight line. “What have the nymphs been telling you?”
“That one of the oak dryads fell from her tree yesterday and broke her ankle. That Harmonia is in love again. Artemis is arranging another hunt soon. And Apollo wants to rule over the sun, but it’s an unconfirmed rumor.”
The ruse worked better than usual. Demeter’s attention was drawn back to the window
overlooking Mount Olympus. “I should forbid you from having anything to do with those
immoral creatures.”
“I’m old enough to decide who my friends are.”
Demeter snorted.
“How about the other gods? Are they good?”
“What does it matter? You’ll never have to worry about them.”
The sharp edge in her mother’s voice warned her to step carefully or incur her mother’s
wrath. “You can’t hide me from the world forever, Mother. I’m a goddess, and someday my
responsibilities will take me into that world again. Someday I’ll remember.”
Demeter stilled, her green eyes narrowing. Persephone knew she tread on dangerous ground
now. She could feel the angry vibrations in the air around her.
She refused to back down. Magic was an integral part of who she was. She was a goddess
and a goddess needed magic to fill the emptiness inside. She would never be truly happy trapped in the garden with her mother and the nymphs. Even exploring the world outside the valley would not make her complete. Only the return of her power, her memories, and her purpose as a goddess would do that.
She felt the truth in her soul.
“I want to be a true goddess with my full power.”
Demeter stalked toward Persephone. The thrill of fear skittered down Persephone’s spine as fury transformed Demeter’s face. “You don’t remember but I do! You were weakened, nearly
dead! Sucked dry of life and magic!”
Pressure built behind Persephone’s eyes, making it hard to concentrate upon her mother’s
words. She backed away but there was nowhere left to go. She was backed into a corner.
“Mother?”
Images crawled out of the depths of her memories, blurring her vision, crushing her. A
woman’s screams. Fire burning. A man writhed on the ground, little more than a black, smoking shell.
Demeter grabbed her arms. “That monster left you an empty husk!”
Persephone screamed. The world blackened.
HADES TOSSED in his bed, twisting the sheets tighter around his body, powerless to pull
himself out of his dream, not that he wanted to end the dream. He never wanted it to end, for she was with him in every way a Phlegethon could wish.
He was standing in the clearing, watching her dance in the moonlight from his place in the shadows of the mighty oak, his fingers digging into the cold bark of the tree.
She stopped, her song dying mid-note. She lifted her gaze to his, a sparkle in her eyes and a large smile playing on her lips. Her skin glowed in the light of the moon. She glided toward him, the slight breeze molding the white dress against her feminine form and causing flowers to flutter from her hair.
She opened her arms. “Come to me, my dear Hades.
The longing tore at his heart as he joined her in the moonlight, taking her into his arms, kissing her. She returned the kiss, molding her body to his. It had been way too long since he had felt the tender touch of a woman and he felt like a starving man devouring the finest morsel, tasting the honeyed sweetness of her mouth.
In the real world he would never act upon such a temptation. He’d been sixteen when he’d
first and last kissed a woman. Menthe had nearly been drained of life.
But here in the land of dreams, anything could happen. It was safe to indulge in his every fantasy. He could touch her, he could dance with her, and he could make love to her, and not fear hurting her.
Holding her at arms’ length, his hungry eyes devoured Persephone’s lush form from her light auburn hair to her plump breasts begging to be loosed from her dress to her bare feet.
He pushed the dress off her shoulders, taking in the beauty of her breasts. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He caressed their softness.
He pushed the dress off her hips, letting it pool around her feet. He took a step back so he could admire her nakedness. Soft, pale skin. Taut, rosy nipples. Narrow waist and the gentle flare of her hips. The mound of dark auburn curls concealing the moist folds of her pussy. Long, shapely legs he wanted to feel wrapped around him as he entered her.
He groaned, his cock pressed against his belly demanding to be buried inside her. Hauling her body against his, her flat stomach cushioned his erection. His mouth locked over her rosy lips. She responded to his kiss, pressing herself tightly against him, hands roaming over his back and buttocks.
He lowered her to the ground, touching her, feeling her. She moaned in pleasure as he
pressed his hardened flesh deep inside her.
He woke, his hips humping the feather tick beneath him. He was sweaty, his pulse racing,
and his cock throbbed in need. He flipped over, cursing these dreams, and stared up at the white cloth forming the canopy of his bed.
Was this how it was to be? A new torture bestowed upon him. Wasn’t Tartarus enough?
Groaning, he threw the pillow over his head. His dreams teased him. They allowed him
touch, but not feel. They made him crave more of what he knew wasn’t for him.
Had he been another god or even a mortal, perhaps things could be different. But he was not.
He was the son of Eris. He was a Phlegethon daemon. He was Hades and everything he touched died. He had nothing to offer a woman but pain, misery, and unrequited dreams. Had not his time with Menthe taught him anything?
He could still hear Menthe’s groan of pleasure transform into screams of pain as
unadulterated power poured over her. It consumed her energy and weakened her nigh to death.
Her screams tore him from the passion in time to leash the beast. In that moment, the devastating power coursing through his blood demanded he claim her. He would’ve killed her with a simple kiss and only regretted it after.
The cold reality was Persephone was magic bound, she wasn’t his equal, and despite what his raging hormones seemed to think, she wasn’t his mate. He could not repeat the past. Persephone deserved more.
She was better off where she was. She was better off among family and friends. And he was better off enjoying her in the safety of his dreams. Only, he couldn’t really enjoy her. Not really.
“I have to forget her,” he said, telling his heart what his mind already knew. “Or learn to be content without her.”
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to forget her. He didn’t want to be content without her.
How he wished he’d never seen Persephone, never ventured past her garden. Then he’d be free from the torment raging in his soul, the obsession of his daemon nature that wanted to take her.
She’d invaded his blood the moment she touched him, a siren calling to him, and he was
finding it harder and harder not to answer that call.
He’d hoped this passed for both their sakes, because if it continued, he would do something unpardonab
le and be truly damned for the length of his immortal life.
He stood, snatching the jug of wine and nectar from the table, and halted before the window.
He stared out over the rolling hills and emerald sea stretching out for hundreds of miles in every direction. The plentiful crops and animals ranging over the pasturelands of the gods made him wonder if he had entered a better land.
Things had changed since his time when foraging for food and hunting were the only means
of procuring food stuff, and humans didn’t exist. Now the gods ruled over the mortals who worshiped them out of fear, and tiny villages dotted the horizons.
Taking another swig of liquid, he savored the rich, sweet flavor rolling over his tongue, gliding down his throat. He knew adding to his drunk state was a bad idea, but he wanted to drown the need in blissful oblivion.
How many women and goddesses had he come across since he gained his freedom, and yet
none of them invaded his thoughts as Persephone had? Would she always haunt him this way?
Would his body forever crave her touch, her kiss? Would he forever be alone with nothing but dreams that never satisfied?
He feared the answer was yes.
“PERSEPHONE, WAKE up dear. It’s time to go.”
Persephone groaned and opened her eyes. She wished her mother would stop shaking her
shoulder, it hurt her head more. Persephone caught the doubt and guilt in her mother’s eyes a moment before Demeter turned her gaze away.
“Where?”
“Mount Olympus. Remember?”
Persephone stretched her stiff muscles. “No.”
The last thing she remembered was kissing Hades in the forest. At the thought of Hades, her eyes widened, and she bound off the couch. Would she see him at Mount Olympus?
“Hurry. The charioteer has waited for us long enough.”
Grabbing her bag, Persephone followed her mother through the kitchen and out the door. Had something happened? Did she have another episode? They seemed to be happening more often.
Hours and days disappeared.
A golden chariot pulled by four white horses stood outside the yard, pawing the ground
impatiently, waiting for them. Persephone cringed at the damage done to her mother’s prized flower beds. She must have passed out to have missed her mother’s screaming.
My Lord Hades Page 6