The Forge King (The Dark Kings Book 6)

by Jovee Winters

  Hades wore nothing other than a fluffy pink and ill-fitting bathrobe that was clearly hers, which should have looked absolutely ridiculous on such a tall and burly man, but even dressed as he was, he held himself with the dignity and bearing of a god. He was unshaven, his long, thick black hair lay haphazardly around his shoulders, looking as if it had been tugged on a time or twenty, and he seemed a man fully at ease lounging beside her.

  She was dressed—and I used that term quite loosely—in nothing more than strategically placed marine life. Golden starfish clutched at her breasts, and an octopus the color of a prismatic diamond covered her nethers. She had her legs crossed, and a mug of steaming something lingered at her lips as she looked at both Danika and me in startled confusion.

  I gave her a weak smile and a shrug, letting her know I was sorry for the interruption. She looked as though she wasn’t sure whether to toss us out or not. I knew from watching their reunion that this new side of Calyssa was a little darker than her other incarnation had been, and I could easily imagine her tossing us out on our rumps, especially after what she’d done to Poseidon. He was still passing sand, so far as I’d heard.

  Calyssa was no longer just flesh and blood, but her goddess form. She was half flesh and half water. It should be disturbing to see a face of clear water attached to a body of tight flesh and bone, but on the elemental, it was more fascinating than macabre.

  “Pink?” she asked tentatively but with a harder edge to her tone than she used to have. “Why have you entered our domain without calling first?”

  Her words were said patiently but were also hinted through with a thread of irritation.

  I currently stood in a much smaller antechamber off the side of Hades’s throne room. Hades turned toward her, and that was when I noted that around his neck bloomed dark-purple stains. Like bruises that might appear beneath the grip of a powerful hand. In fact, I could just make out the delicate length of a female’s fingers. I had, indeed, interrupted their mating.

  I cleared my throat. My massive electric-pink wings buzzed almost like Danika’s would when she was irritated.

  “I am sorry for this most untimely interruption, goddess and consort, but I have some rather urgent news, and you were the only ones I knew I could trust with this.”

  The irritation instantly vanished from their faces, and they both sat up straighter in their seats. With a flick of her wrist, Calyssa vanished the table and, with it, the treats.

  “What is the matter?” she asked softly before turning to glance at her mate curiously.

  He only shrugged in return, looking as lost as she clearly felt, and then two pair of eyes turned back on me, their looks demanding and brimming over with fierce intelligence.

  I glanced at Dani again. She was worrying her full bottom lip and glancing down at her feet. Unimaginable pain glittered like a bottomless pool of hurt in her dark-brown eyes.

  I sighed. “Dani and I have received most urgent news this night, and unfortunately, we must be off immediately.”

  Calyssa stood and walked toward us, her movements powerful and fluid, like the silky movements of a predator. Her hand, with fingers full of razor-sharp-looking claws, gripped my shoulder. “Tell us, Pink, what has happened while I’ve been asleep?”

  I shook my head. “Would that I could, goddess. But I do not lie when I say that we have no time to waste. We’ve located one of our key happily ever afters in the unlikeliest of places.”

  “Then allow us to help, any way we can,” Hades said, powerful voice causing the ground beneath us to tremble. His movements were loping, like a dark predatory cat walking gracefully through a jungle’s canopy.

  I thinned my lips, stomach a nest of terrible, writhing nerves. “Unfortunately, this is the domain of fairies alone.”

  Calyssa looked at me for several assessing moments before saying, “My sister Aria has complete dominion over the skies, if that is the land you speak of.”

  I nodded. “It is, indeed. But this is a fairy matter alone. The one known as Tinker has got up to no good, I fear.”

  Danika made a hard grunting noise, like a cough mingled with a growl. Both gods looked at her, wearing identical worried frowns.

  “Are you alright, Dani?” Hades asked in his drugging, whiskey-like drawl.

  She opened her mouth, and now her wings were buzzing almost violently behind her, but then she shook her head, causing the baby’s breath wreath in her hair to drop most of its little buds. Her cheeks blazed with scarlet.

  My heart ached for my friend. I could not imagine how I’d feel if I’d learned that my own mate had played an active role in this betrayal. We’d finally figured out what had become of her beloved Pirate Hook and his mate, Trishelle, and unfortunately, it was not good.

  I sighed. “She’ll be fine, soon as we go.”

  “Then you must go,” Calyssa said swiftly and took a step back.

  “Well, that’s partly why I’ve come. There are still yet more happily ever afters to repair in Kingdom, and there are none I trust more than you two to set matters to right. I know that you’ve been gone for a while and are only just beginning to remember—”

  “I’ll do it.” Calyssa grinned and gripped my elbow swiftly. “Only point us in the right direction, and we’ll—”

  I couldn’t hide my cringe, which she caught immediately and stopped speaking instantly. Her eyes thinned, and I felt her trying to tap into my mind. But as the highest-ranking member of the fairy council, I was not without my own powers, and one of them was that no one could steal the thoughts and words from my mind without my consent. Not even a god.

  She lifted her brows, and a tiny grin curved a smile in her glass-like face. Respect glittered in her clear eyes. “Well, fae, it seems as though you’re more powerful than I’d expected. So then I will ask you as one friend to another, why did you look as though you’d bitten into a lemon when I said that?”

  My stomach flipped over almost painfully on itself, and my shoulders drooped. Thank the gods that neither of them could read my thoughts, because I was about to only give them a fraction of truth. The only part of it that mattered to them, anyway. If they actually knew what Danika and I were about to do, they might try to stop us, but I’d promised Dani that above all else, I would fix not just the happily ever afters of her bad boys, but most importantly hers as well.

  Jericho, Danika’s mate and current question mark, had gotten himself mixed up with the very worst sorts, and now Hook was also in trouble for it. I’d give most anything to learn how those two had fallen into the trap they had, but I was spread so thin as it was. Much of what had taken place had already quite literally escaped me and Dani both.

  “The truth is, Calyssa,” I said, and her shoulders stiffened, her face drew tight, and she glared at me hotly. That was the instant I realized I’d never before called her that to her face. “I… erm, I…”

  She held up a hand, no longer looking quite so put out as she seemed to ruminate on my words for a second. “Actually… it does have a nice ring to it, does it not, lover?” She glanced at Hades over her shoulder, and he nodded as he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

  “I like it,” he said with decisiveness.

  She grinned. “Me too. You may proceed, fairy.” She rolled her wrist imperiously.

  I released a choppy breath I’d not realized I’d been holding. I did not fear anything in Kingdom, but I’d be a fool not to tread lightly around the gods—they were capricious beings at the very best of times.

  “Well, I’ve been studying the happily ever afters, looking at what we’ve managed and what’s still left undone, and I think we could do this so much more efficiently if we had one key player on board.”

  She looked blank. “Who?”

  My smile was wimpy as I said, “Aphrodite. She is the goddess of love, after all. It stands to reason that if she were truly on the board, we could go through these rematchings much more effectively.”

  “Oh, her.” Calyssa laughed heartily a
nd flicked her hand through the air, like swatting at annoying gnat. “There is nothing wrong with my friend. Why, she is the sole reason why Hades and I managed to reconnect as we did.”

  Hades grunted loudly, clearing his throat.

  Calyssa shrugged. “Well, maybe not the entire reason.”

  “Actually…” Hades looked thoughtfully at me. “The wee fairy is right.”

  “What?” Caly twirled on her seat and looked at Hades with something a lot like shock on her pretty, glass-like face. “She is fine. Hades, we just had supper with her not a night’s past. If aught was wrong with my friend, then surely I would—”

  “No, Thalassa,” he said with a touch of regret in his voice, “she’s not. She’s really not.”

  Turning fully toward his mate, he tenderly gripped her shoulders. His thumbs played idle circles on her nude, bronze-hued skin. My heart went pitter-patter in my chest to witness the undeniable heat that simmered between the two of them even after everything they’d been through.

  My heart ached most fiercely for my own mate, Syrith. He and I had barely had any time together, ourselves, before this bloody curse came and ripped everything apart. It was all my fault, so I had no one to blame for the mess we were in but me, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that I missed him more and more each day that passed. He was well, and he was safe, but I desperately ached for the strength of his arms to wrap around me again. For his deep voice to whisper to me that we were all right and that this too would pass. And I knew deep down that the sooner I could fix this mess, the sooner I could return to him.

  I clenched my back teeth together, determination burning like a fire through me. I would fix this mess. I would. No matter what came next. Even if that meant deceiving two gods as to what was really about to happen. I wasn’t sure that they’d care, but I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t, either. And sometimes ignorance really was bliss. Besides, if they agreed to take over the couples still left to fix on Kingdom, then it meant Danika and I would be free to do what needed to be done. I could fix this without Danika, if push came to shove, but I’d rather have her by my side. As distracted and worried as she’d been lately, she was still the strongest ally I had in fairy.

  “What do you mean, ‘she’s not’? She was laughing, Hades. Smiling. Cracking jokes. Surely, she wouldn’t…” Her words trailed off, and a slow transformation spilled over her glassy features before her brows lifted high on her forehead and she hissed. “How could I have missed this?” Her words were sharp and angry, but buried beneath them, there was obvious pain.

  He shook his head. “Love is very adept at hiding her own hurts. You’ve always known this about her. Hephaestus set her aside. That bastard. Refuses to even hear her out. I’ve tried reaching out to him myself through missive, but—” He sighed deeply, looking suddenly haunted by memories from the past. “Aphrodite would never want us to worry. That is who she is. I’ve been awake in this new world longer than you have, Caly, and I tell you that she is different now. Worn down. I see it in her eyes. I was going to speak with you on this matter today, actually.”

  “Oh, my darkness,” Calyssa whispered and then frowned as she gazed upon the face of her male. She reached out a hand toward his cheek and cupped him lovingly in her palm. Physically, she was the much smaller of the two, but it had always seemed to me that Hades was infinitely more breakable than her.

  And not just with anyone, only with her. Calyssa could survive the loss of him—she’d be a terrible, horrible creature if she was forced to, but she could. Hades, on the other hand, needed her to be. She was as much a part of him as his own soul. To cleave the two would be the end of him completely.

  I knew what it was to love deeply, so terribly much that it felt like a physical rendering to be without it. And maybe that was the curse that we dark ones were born to bear, unlike the rest of the world. Like the things that burned darkest also burned the brightest. But that fire could just as easily end you, too, if you weren’t careful. But we had both committed the ultimate act of sheer stupidity, depending on whom one asked, because we’d chosen to take that ultimate and destructive path. We’d handed our hearts to another, and there was now no going back, for either of us.

  He leaned deeply into her touch, shuddering and laying his forehead on hers, breathing her slowly in and out, and it was like magic the way he slowly grew peaceful again.

  “You may not understand, my darkness,” he whispered as though for her ears alone, “but I do. What the loss of someone so treasured can do to a person’s soul. It can turn into a poison. A cancer that slowly rots at us until we are nothing more than skin and bones forced to breathe. I loathe him, and yet in some ways, I also pity him, for at least I remembered you. I had your memories in me. He has nothing of Dite, but somewhere deep within him I know he suffers the loss of her. That kind of love can never truly be extinguished, no matter how different the new world we find ourselves in.”

  As if she was recalling that they were not alone, Calyssa’s shoulders tightened, and she glanced at me from over his shoulder. Her look was hard and uncompromising. I pitied anyone who ever got on that elemental’s bad side.

  She did not stop touching her mate, but she continued to look at me as she said, “We will do this. But you must promise not to interfere with our methods. Have I got your oath on this, fae queen?”

  I knew what was being said between the lines. She would break rules, all sorts of fairy rules, to ensure their happily ever after if she had to. But she was a goddess and outside the realm of repercussions, at least from us.

  I dipped my head. “You have my oath.”

  The air quickened, tightening with that most sacred of vows. And then I had a thought. “And you? Will you grant me the same promise?”

  Her brilliant diamond eyes thinned to near invisibility. Calyssa was no fool. She very easily understood why I’d phrased my question exactly as I had.

  “Where did you say you were going again, Galeta?” Her words were soft but quivered with a dangerous note of authority.

  My stomach flopped to my knees, and my wings pulsed almost angrily as I said, “I didn’t.”

  I didn’t say more, because I would not compromise myself any further than I had. I needed not to be interfered with, and her oath would ensure both my and Danika’s safety from any future fallout.

  She sniffed and suddenly grinned from the right corner of her full mouth. “I like you, fae. So be it. You have our oath.”

  And again the air trembled with the strength of that most inviolable promise. Breath eased out of me, and my knees no longer felt quite so gelatinous.

  Danika’s nostrils flared, and I felt her looking at my face. A quick glance at her showed me the hope burning in her eyes, where once there’d been only hopelessness.

  Now nothing would stand between us and what must be done. Hopefully, we’d not break any rules of the mighty Olympians, but then again, the mightiest of the gods had granted us safe harbor.

  Gods above, what a mess.

  “So we save Love. Then what? How long will you two be gone?”

  “For a while,” I said completely honestly. “I’m afraid this isn’t a simple matter. Likely, you will have to fix many hundreds of happily ever afters in our absence. I do apologize for the burden we’ve handed over to you. But I hope you understand that this was done only for the direst of reasons.”

  Her full lips thinned, but she nodded. “I believe you. If I didn’t, I would kill you for daring to interrupt us. But I like you both and wish you only well.”

  I rolled my lips into my mouth, rather thinking she’d meant that threat. The gods were capricious beings but rather powerful allies when it was all said and done too.

  I inclined my head, thanking her silently.

  “How will we know which order after Dite?” Calyssa persisted.

  “Love will know. She is the goddess most attuned to the needs of the heart, after all. But many of the remaining couples will need a good dose of god power to see them th
rough what comes next.”

  Hades was looking at us now, but his hands were still wrapped around his woman’s waist, holding her snug to his frame as if he meant never to let her go again. Not that Caly looked as though she minded. She was like octopus babies clinging to their mother’s back the way she moved her hands over him too.

  “Then let us keep you no longer,” Calyssa said with a regal dip of her swanlike neck.

  I felt the pull of a travel tunnel being opened up behind us. The message was clear—we’d overstayed our welcome, and it was now time to part.

  “Then the only thing left to say is good luck to you both.” I grabbed Danika’s elbow and turned her toward the tunnel.

  “And to you,” the gods both intoned at once.

  Only once we were safely in the tunnel and no longer able to be heard by the gods did Danika look squarely up at me.

  “Do you really think we can do this, Galeta?”

  I took a deep breath and peered at her from between my lashes, steeling myself for whatever lay before us.

  “We will do what we must. Your mantra once, I believe.”

  She snorted. “Aye. A long time ago, it was, at that.”

  I shrugged. “God or no, those two poked at the sleeping giant. And no matter what we must do, no matter how very unsavory, we will do whatever it takes to right what Tinker and Apollo have done. They have meddled for the last time, and I’m not backing down again.”

  Danika nodded. “Whatever it takes, then.”

  I nodded right back. “Whatever it takes.”

  And that was a vow sealed in truth for us. It was time to end this bloody curse, once and for all.

  3

  Hephaestus

  I entered the marbled archway that led toward my father’s golden throne room. His private chamber, as usual, was full of major and minor gods, all of the female persuasion, but there weren’t just goddesses in attendance. He had others. Humans. Centaurs. Sirens. But mostly nymphs. Many, many of them. Several hundred of them, by my count.