My Lord Hades (8 page)

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 unpardonable 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.

Persephone tried to push aside the feeling that something was off as they climbed aboard and the chariot took off. She tried to enjoy the ride, but she couldn’t.

It wasn’t long before they landed in the courtyard of Mount Olympus. A young girl and boy ran to take their bags. The charioteer led them through the opulent palace. Everything was stark white, cream, or a shining gold. There was no sense of warmth or home, and Persephone hated the place. She wanted to go back to the villa.

They met no one as they traversed the empty halls to her father’s suite of rooms. The woman knocked on the door. Demeter looked surprised by the man who opened the door. He was a foot taller than her mother and shorter than the charioteer, his build delicate compared to the woman.

“Thank you, Iris. You can take care of your horses now.”

The woman nodded, threw a strange look at Demeter and walked away.

“I brought her to meet you as you demanded,” Demeter said. Her voice was stiff, with a hint of resentment, and her expression cold. “I don’t know why you couldn’t wait another day, Zeus?”

So this was her father?

In contrast to the only other man she’d ever seen, Zeus fell short of her expectations. He was a shadow of what she expected in the King of the Gods. He lacked the musculature, the power, the confidence, and the magnetism Hades wore like a second skin.

Zeus smiled at her. “Come in, my dears.” His voice was higher than Hades’ deep, rich timbre.

He led them through the room and to the balcony. “Please sit. I would like to talk to you both.”

Seated, Persephone attempted to find herself in this man that was her father. She found

nothing. His eyes were green and his hair bright red and curly. His face held the same features as her mother’s face, though the close cropped hair on his face hid most of it. Hades’ beard had been longer the first time they met, but shorter the second, but not as short as Zeus’ beard. Did all men wear beards?

He seemed nice enough, but the urge to demand he tell her what he wanted was strong. One

moment she liked him and next she hated him. One moment she was excited to meet her father and the next she was furious at him for something she didn’t understand. Yet he hadn’t done a thing to her. At least nothing she could remember.

The conflict of thoughts raging in her mind confused and frightened her. What was going on?

She’d never hated a person in her life as she did this man. Or at least she couldn’t remember hating one.

Curse her lack of memory!

Zeus smiled at her, revealing perfect white teeth. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,

Persephone. How was the ride?”

She forced herself to smile in return when all she wanted to do was run. “And you…Father. It was pleasant.”

Zeus turned to Demeter and Persephone followed his gaze, unconsciously slumping in her

chair. The feeling of wrongness struck her again. He was acting as if this were their first meeting, but she saw it in his eyes—he knew her.

“The nymphs’ description of you doesn’t do you justice, my child. Now I see why the gods

are eager to meet her.
Our
daughter’s beauty rivals Aphrodite’s.”

Demeter scowled. “She’ll not meet the gods, Zeus. I’ll not have you give her away to some slovenly god like you did with Aphrodite.”

Persephone fought her way out of the emotions threatening to overwhelm her and asked,

“Who’s Aphrodite?”

Zeus raised his eyebrows. “The Goddess of Love.”

“Don’t give me that look,” Demeter seethed. “I’ll not let her suffer Aphrodite’s fate, trapped in a loveless marriage to that…smith.”

He frowned at Demeter. “Hephaestus is already married so need not worry.”

She shot Zeus a scathing glare. “Persephone will not be traded or used in your power plays, Zeus.”

Zeus pulled himself to his full height. “Demeter, we will not talk of this here and now.

Persephone is to come to the party tomorrow, where she will meet the gods.”

“No!”

“Yes. Should you fail to bring her, dressed in her best attire, I’ll send Hermes for her.”

Looking into her mother’s drawn face, she thought better of voicing the excitement beating in her chest. She would finally meet the other gods and goddesses. She’d see Hades again. He would be there to get his reward.

“The sooner she marries, the safer she’ll be.”

“Please don’t. She doesn’t deserve that fate.”

He shook his head. “You can’t hide her forever, Demeter,” he said, softening his tone. “The Titans are gone. She’s in no danger.”

Demeter’s fingers dug into Persephone’s arm, making her wince. “She’ll always be in

danger.”

“She had her chance, Demeter. And look how that turned out. No memory and sorely lacking

in power.”

Demeter said nothing.

“You have to admit, Persephone would be safer married to one of her own kind, a powerful

god—”

“Who, Zeus? Apollo? Hermes? Ares? Weaklings all of them! She’d snuff them out like

candles!”

Persephone looked between the two gods speaking of her as if she weren’t seated in the room with them. No one ever spoke about the terrible accident had taken her memories, although there were times they let slip some tidbits of information about her past. Like she hadn’t always lived in the valley with her mother and she had once ruled her own piece of the world. But she still didn’t know where that had been, or what had happened, or if she would ever regain who she’d been before.