A Touch of Chaos (47 page)

As she did, she used her own power to call to the earth. From it, roots sprouted, and they wrapped around the God of Time until he was completely consumed
within the trunk of a tree, its branches reaching toward the sky before blooming in a waterfall of pink blossoms.

It was magnificent.

When it was done, Persephone felt as though all the life had been drained from her body.

She swayed and Hades's arms came around her. She knew it was safe to rest.

“You did it, darling,” he said. “It is done.”

Dionysus battled to get to the gates.

He had one goal, and that was to rescue Ariadne. Even killing Perseus was an afterthought.

Then he felt something slam down on his head, but it was not a weapon—it was a helmet. He placed his hand to the cold metal as Hermes appeared in front of him.

“It's the Helm of Darkness,” he said. “Go get your girl.”

Hermes gave him a little push, but Dionysus did not need it. He cut through the ranks of the Impious, wishing instead that he were incorporeal so that he might race through to the gates, but he was anxious to find Ariadne, worried he would be too late.

Those thoughts made him angry, and he pushed harder through the onslaught of metal-clad bodies, slamming his thyrsus into anyone who stood in his path. If he could not be a ghost, the helm provided the next best thing—surprise.

When he made it through the gates and was within sight of Theseus's fortress, he felt the greatest sense of relief. He was almost there.

Ari, I am almost there.

He took the steps two at a time but stopped short at the top as Perseus approached.

Dionysus had wondered where the demigod had gone, but like the coward he was, he'd retreated behind the wall.

“I know you are there, Dionysus,” Perseus said. “Why don't you come out and play?”

Dionysus clenched his jaw and gripped the helm. “You mean the same way you did when you attacked my home?”

“It was only fair,” the demigod said. “You stole what belonged to Theseus.” Perseus laughed. “Does that make you mad? Or is it just the thought of Ariadne belonging to Theseus that pisses you off?”

“What is it with all you fuckers talking about people like you own them? Like they are fucking currency?”

“People are currency,” said Perseus. “You should know that best considering the price you paid for Phaedra.”

It was hard for Dionysus to think about his maenads without feeling the storming of madness. When he had finally made it to the tunnels, he'd discovered hundreds of bodies all resting in a line, covered with sheets. He would learn later that Hades, Hermes, Ilias, and Artemis had gathered his dead. Hecate had begun funeral rites, but they hadn't wanted to bury anyone until he'd had a chance to say goodbye.

“I hope she was worth it,” said Perseus. “That's
why you did it, isn't it? So Ariadne would let you fuck her?”

Dionysus just stared, his hatred for the demigod burning deep. He knew Perseus was trying to antagonize him enough so that he would make the first move, and it was that piece of knowledge that kept him from boiling over—that and the fact that Ariadne had just emerged from inside Theseus's house. She was covered in blood, but he did not think it was hers, given that the blade in her hand was dripping. Her eyes were dark and angry, full of an anguish he had seen often in the eyes of his maenads.

It made him sick, and it made him angry.

He held Perseus's gaze as Ariadne approached from behind and answered him. “No,” he said. “I fucked her before that.”

Then Ariadne's blade burst through Perseus's chest, and as his body arched, Dionysus jabbed his thyrsus through the demigod's neck. They both withdrew their weapons at the same time, and when Perseus fell, they were left to face each other.

“Ari,” he breathed her name.

It was then he noticed she was wearing some kind of wrap. He realized Acamus was nestled inside it.

He looked at the baby and then at Ariadne. “Where is Phaedra?”

Her mouth quivered. “She didn't make it,” Ariadne said, dissolving into tears.

She fell into him, and he caught her, holding her against him. Fuck, he wished he wasn't wearing armor right now so she had something soft to rest her face against.

“I've got you,” he said, threading his fingers into her hair. “Both of you.”

When Persephone woke, she felt like she could have slept for an eternity. Even now, it was a challenge to open her heavy eyes, so she didn't. She lay still and quiet, but she was so hot, and she didn't know why. It was what had woken her, the feeling of her skin burning.

She struggled to remember how she had gotten here—wherever here was—and all she could recall was the feel of fire-hot power coursing through her veins. Her body hummed with the memory of it. She shivered, hating it.

It was not hers. It belonged to Cronos.

Cronos
. She remembered. She had trapped him in a tree with his greatest fears, and Hades had killed Theseus.

Hades.

The last thing she remembered was the feel of his arms around her and his voice.

You did it, darling. It is done.

This time, she had no trouble opening her eyes, and
when she did, she found she was plastered against Hades. Beneath her, his body felt like an inferno. She peeled herself away, expecting to find him awake, but she found that he slumbered.

She relaxed a little, watching him. It was so rare to see him like this—unaware and serene. His forehead was smooth, and there were no lines between his brows.

There was a part of her that did not believe this was real, that feared she was still trapped within the labyrinth.

She touched his lips, full and slightly parted, and then bent to kiss him. It was real.
He
was real.

And they
had
won.

Hades inhaled, and his hands came down on her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he deepened the kiss, his arousal growing hard between them.

“I did not mean to wake you,” Persephone said when they parted.

“I do not mind,” he said. “Especially when you do it like this.”

He gripped her ass and ground his hips into hers. She took a deep breath, and he slid his tongue into her mouth again. They were content to kiss for a while, but eventually Persephone pulled away and whispered against his lips, “I want to taste you.”

He grinned.

“Darling, you can have me anytime.”

She loved his smile and the promise in his words, and she kissed him again before moving down his body, lips brushing over his chest and stomach. She let her nipples, peaked and hard, trail over his skin and his length, which lay heavily against the bottom of his stomach.

As she sat back on her knees and took him into
her hand, Hades adjusted his pillow and braced a hand behind his head. He looked languid and content, but she wanted to make him writhe. She felt more alive than she had in months, unburdened by fear and the dread that came with the possibility of never seeing him again.

She was hungry for him, and she wanted him to be voracious for her.

She pumped her hand up and down his cock, bending to lick the come that beaded at the tip. As she did, her hair fell, curtaining her face. Hades gathered it into his hands and swept it to the side.

“I do not wish to miss a single part of this,” he said.

She met his gaze, and then she licked him, teasing one of the veins that had risen to the surface of his soft skin. She let her tongue swirl over the top of him and took him into her mouth.

Hades groaned, and the sound vibrated in her chest, down to her very core. She tensed, her thighs squeezing together.

“I love when you take me deep,” he said.

His fingers were in her hair again, and she let him hit the back of her throat, keeping him there for only a moment before she released him to breathe. Suddenly, he was gone, and she felt his fingers slide between her legs and tease her damp heat. She realized he had teleported behind her.

“That's not fair,” she moaned.

“Nothing is fair, darling,” he said, slipping one finger inside. “Fuck,” he said, planting a kiss on her ass before removing his finger and pressing his mouth to her slick skin.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes.”

She pulled away from him and then turned, dragging his mouth to hers. She kissed him hard before she lay on her back and spread her legs again. Hades's eyes glittered, dancing over every part of her body.

“I fucking love every part of you,” he said.

Then his mouth was on her again, and his fingers dove into her flesh. Everything inside her started to feel tight, wound by Hades's hand, and then, as if a thread snapped, she was unleashed, body seizing as wave after wave of pleasure shuddered through her. She had never felt something this intense, but it was like everything she had kept inside her for weeks—all the pain and the guilt and the fear—was suddenly released. Now she had room for hope.

She had room for dreams.

As if he knew, Hades stretched out, resting his body against hers and the head of his cock between her legs. She brought her knees up, framing his body, ready and desperate for him to be inside.

“Are you well?” he asked. He brushed his fingers along her brow.

“I am,” she replied. “More than.”

Then he kissed her, and Persephone opened her mouth against his, taking a breath as he filled her.

“I love you,” she said.

Hades grinned again, and a breathless laugh escaped him.

She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. “Why do you laugh?”

“It is merely disbelief,” he said, his words punctuated with a breath as he moved inside her. “You have become my past, my present, and my future.”

Her eyes watered, but for once, it wasn't because she was afraid. It was because she was happy—ridiculously happy.

And so very much in love.

Hades lowered his forehead to rest against hers, and then they kissed once more before there was nothing more they could say with words.

Later, Persephone lay draped over Hades. They were both naked, bodies spent from their lovemaking, but it was in this quiet that the darkness crept in. Persephone could feel it like a cool blanket settling over her, and she shivered.

Hades felt it, and his warm hands eased her prickly flesh.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered. He sounded drowsy, and she liked that. It said a lot, that he felt comfortable enough to rest.

She was quiet. At first, she had a hard time tracking her thoughts. They seemed to move rapidly through her mind, jumping from one concern to the next. She thought about all the work they had to do to rebuild New Athens, and while that would be a grand undertaking, nothing was more daunting than earning the trust of mortals again. They had to prove they were worthy of worship, and that would require building a different kind of pantheon, one where mortals were not punished for the shortcomings of the gods.

But what had brought about the chill were the thoughts she'd had about herself.

“I am only trying to decide who I am now that the war is over,” she said.

“You are Persephone,” he said. “You are my wife and my queen. You are everything to me.”

She traced a circle on his chest but did not look at him. “But even you know I am not the same as before.”

“If you weren't, you could not live in this world,” he said. “I am not afraid. Why should you be?”

“I don't know,” she said. “I think I worry that if I live long enough, I will cease to care for the world. I already feel it, this urge to be selfish, to not go beyond our borders.”

“It is not selfish to have a desire to be where you are loved, Persephone,” Hades said. As he spoke, his warm hand continued to move soothingly over her back. “Doubt and suspicion are not the same as losing your humanity. If anything, they will protect you better than even your magic.”

They were quiet, and then Persephone spoke. “What are you thinking about?”

“I am not sure you wish to know,” he said.

She lifted her head and looked at him. “I always want to know your thoughts.”

Hades smiled, his eyes glittering. “They are not so complicated,” he said, but then he paused before saying, “I am thinking about how many times we have come close to never having a moment like this again.”

Persephone was quiet after his confession. In some ways, it was comforting, knowing his thoughts were similar to her own.

“Do you think those thoughts will ever go away?” she asked.

“Eventually,” he said.

“What do we do? Until then?” she asked.

“Whatever it takes,” he said. “But we should make a promise that if either of us has those thoughts, we will tell the other.”

She raised a brow at his suggestion. It was ironic, given that he had not wanted to tell her his thoughts earlier. “You realize if you make a promise, it is binding?”

He smiled. “I do,” he said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But I will do anything to keep you from suffering alone with your thoughts.”

She held his gaze for a few moments and traced his bottom lip.

“I love you,” she said, and she wanted him to feel just how much. She kissed him, softly at first, then harder, shifting so that her knees were on either side of his body, highly aware of his arousal and the heat it stirred inside her.

She sat back, sliding over his cock.

“Care to share your thoughts now?” she asked as his hands closed over her breasts. He squeezed them as she ground against him.

He grinned. “There are too many to count.”

“I did not ask you to count them,” she said.

“Hmm. I am thinking about how beautiful you are and how much I fucking love your breasts and that I want to suck them until you scream. I'm thinking about how long I'll let you ride my cock before I fuck you into oblivion.”

“All those things sound like promises,” she said.

“They are,” he replied.

She smiled, almost delirious, and slid down Hades's length. They both groaned, and then the doors burst open.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and…” Hermes paused when he saw them on the bed and then grinned. “Sexy!”

Persephone groaned again and then collapsed against Hades's chest. The high she'd been riding crashed hard. “Hermes, what are you doing here?”

“I'm here to collect your plaything,” he said. “Sorry if he's in use, but this is nonnegotiable.”

“
Everything
is negotiable,” Persephone said.

“I'm afraid this isn't,” said Hecate, sweeping into the room.

“Hecate!” Persephone said, pushing against Hades's chest. She had every intention of running to the goddess and pulling her into a tight hug, but the sudden movement reminded her that she was both naked and currently impaled by Hades's cock. It occurred to her that she should be more embarrassed, but with friends like Hermes and Hecate and a lover like Hades, it was pointless.

They had no boundaries, and Hades was willing to fuck her anywhere. Though she did cover herself with a blanket.

Hecate smiled. “Hello, my dear,” she said.

“Am I the only one who finds this really fucking annoying?” Hades asked.

“With the way Sephy keeps moving, I imagine you find it quite unbearable,” said Hermes.

“Considering you are aware of today's schedule, you have only yourself to blame,” said Hecate.

“What schedule?” Persephone asked, and then she looked down at Hades. “What's going on?”

“It is a surprise,” he said.

“A surprise that has a deadline,” Hecate reminded, clapping her hands. “So come on! Up, Persephone.”

“I'm not sure that is the command you wish to give,” said Hades.

Hecate lifted a brow, and then she narrowed her eyes. “I am going to step out those doors and count to ten,” she said. “And if you both are not out of bed and
reasonably
clothed, I will curse your sex life for the next week.” Hecate turned. “Hermes!”

“What? I am here for accountability!” he said.

“I'll curse you too, Hermes. Do not try me!”

“Fine,” he whined and stomped toward the door. “No one ever lets me have
any
fun.”