A Touch of Darkness: Chapter 22

By Friday, Hades had not returned from Olympia, and Persephone was surprised by how anxious that made her. She knew he planned to be at the Ascension Ball this evening because when she arrived in the Underworld to help decorate, Hecate ushered her into another part of the palace to get ready, she greeted Persephone with, “Lord Hades has sent your gown. It’s beautiful.”

Persephone had no idea Hades planned on sending her a gown at all. “May I see it?”

“Later, dear,” she said, opening a set of gilded doors to a suite unlike the rest of the palace. Instead of dark floors and walls, they were marble white and inlaid with gold. The bed was luxurious and covered in fluffy blankets, the floors in soft furs. Overhead, a large chandelier dropped from a dome ceiling.

“These rooms, who are they for?” Persephone asked as she entered, trailing her fingers along the edge of a white vanity.

“The mistress of the Underworld,” Hecate replied.

Persephone let that sink in a little. She knew Hades had created everything in his realm, so adding a suite for a wife must have meant he’d considered having one. She remembered what Hermes had alluded to about the subject at the gala. Did these rooms prove the god had hopes of marrying?

“But…Hades has never had a wife,” Persephone hedged.

“He has not.”

“So…these rooms have never been occupied?”

“Not that we are aware. Come, let’s get you ready.”

Hecate called for her “Ah, Lord Hades said you loved them.”

“I don’t recall telling Hades my favorite scents.”

“I don’t suppose you had to,” she said absently. “He can smell them.”

She directed Persephone to the vanity with a mirror so large, she could see the whole wall on the opposite side of the room. The nymphs took time arranging her hair, piling it atop her head. When they finished, pretty ringlets framed her face, and gold clips glistened in her blond hair.

“It’s beautiful,” Persephone told the “Just wait until you see your gown,” Hecate said.

The Goddess of Witchcraft disappeared into the closet and returned with a strip of shimmering gold fabric. Persephone couldn’t tell what it looked like until she slipped it on. The fabric was cool against her skin and when she looked in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. The gown Hades had chosen for her hung on her body like liquid gold. With a plunging neckline, backless design, and thigh high split, it was beautiful, daring, and delicate.

“You are a vision,” Hecate said.

Persephone smiled. “Thank you, Hecate.”

The Goddess of Witchcraft left to get ready for tonight’s festivities, leaving Persephone alone.

“This is the closest I have ever looked to a goddess,” she said aloud, smoothing her hands over her dress.

The sudden feel of Hades’ magic, warm and safe and familiar, gave her pause. She braced to teleport, since the last time she had felt it, that’s exactly what happened. This time, however, Hades appeared behind her. She met his dark eyes in the mirror and started to turn, but Hades’ voice rang out, “Don’t move. Let me look at you.”

His instructions were more of a request than a command, and she swallowed, barely able to handle the heat his presence ignited inside her. He radiated power and darkness, and her body responded—craved the power, hungered for the heat, yearned for the darkness. She burned to touch him, but held his gaze for a breath before he started a slow circle around her.

When he finished, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, welding their bodies together. “Drop your glamour.”

She hesitated. In truth, her human glamour was her security, and Hades’ command made her want to hold onto it tighter. “Why?”

“Because I wish to see you,” he said.

Her grip tightened on the glamour, but Hades coaxed in a voice that made her melt, “Let me see you.”

She closed her eyes and released her hold. Her glamour slipped away like water dripping down her skin, and she knew when it was completely gone because she felt both unburdened and raw.

“Open your eyes,” Hades encouraged, and when she did, she was in her goddess form.

Everything about her presence had intensified, and she glowed against Hades’ darkness.

“Darling, you are a goddess,” Hades said, and pressed his lips to her shoulder. Persephone wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him to her; their lips crashed together, and when Hades growled, Persephone turned in his arms.

“I have missed you.” He cupped her face, eyes searching. She wondered what he was looking for.

“I missed you, too.”

The admission made her blush, and Hades smirked, pulling her in for another kiss. His lips brushed hers—once, twice—teasing, before Persephone sealed their lips together. She was ravenous and he tasted rich and smoky, like the whiskey he drank. Her hands slipped down his chest; she wanted to touch him, feel his skin against her own, but Hades stopped her with his hands on her wrists, breaking their kiss.

“I am just as eager, my darling,” he said. “But if we do not leave now, I think we shall miss your party.”

She wanted to pout, but she also knew he was right.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand.

When she took it, Hades dropped his glamour. She could watch it all day—the way his magic moved like shadow, peeling off him like smoke, revealing his striking form. His hair fell over his shoulders, and a silver crown made of jagged edges decorated the base of his massive horns. The suit he had been wearing moments ago was replaced by black robes, the edges embroidered in silver.

“Careful, Goddess,” Hades warned in a low growl. “Or we won’t leave this room.”

She shivered and quickly looked away.

Fingers laced, he led her out of the suite and into the hallway, to a set of gilded doors. Beyond them, she could hear the low rumble of a large crowd. Her anxiety spiked, probably because she had no glamour to protect her. She realized that was silly—she knew these people and they knew her.

Still, she felt like an impostor—an impostor goddess, an impostor queen, an impostor lover.

Each of those thoughts hurt worse than the other so she shoved them down deep and entered the ballroom beside Hades.

Everything went silent.

They stood at the top of a staircase that led to the packed ballroom floor. The room was crowded from wall to wall, and she recognized many of those in attendance—gods and souls and creatures alike. She spotted Euryale, Ilias, and Mekonnen. She smiled at them, her anxiety forgotten, and when they bowed, Hades led her down the stairs.

As they made their way through the crowd, Persephone smiled and nodded, and when her eyes fell on Hecate, she broke from Hades to take her hands. “Hecate! You look beautiful!”

The Goddess of Witchcraft was luminous—she wore a silver, glittering gown that fit her frame and flared out. Her thick, dark hair spilled over her shoulders and sparkling stars glittered in her long locks.

“You flatter me, my dear,” she said as they embraced.

Suddenly, Persephone found herself surrounded by souls. They hugged her and thanked her, told her how amazing the palace looked and how beautiful she was. She didn’t know how long she stood there, accepting embraces and talking to the people of the Underworld, but it was music that broke up the crowd.

Persephone’s first dance was with a few children from the Underworld. They moved in circles and begged to be lifted and twirled. Persephone obliged, marveling at their joy as they moved about the ballroom.

When that dance finished, Charon approached. He was dressed all in white, his usual color, except the edges of his robes were embroidered with azure thread. He bowed, one hand covering his heart. “My lady, may I have the next dance?”

She smiled and took his hand. “Of course!”

Persephone joined a line dance, weaving through the souls. The tempo was quick, and she was soon out of breath and flushed. She clapped and laughed and grinned until her face hurt. Two dances later, she turned to find Hermes bowing behind her.

“My lady,” he said.

“It’s Persephone, Hermes,” she said, taking his hand. The music was different now, coasting into a charming, slow melody.

“You look almost as amazing as me,” he said smugly as they moved about the room.

“What a thoughtful compliment,” she teased.

The god grinned and then leaned in. “I can’t tell if it’s the dress or all the sex you’ve been having with the god of this realm.”

Persephone blushed. “Not funny, Hermes!”

He lifted a brow. “Isn’t it?”

“How do you even know?”

“Well, it’s rumored he carried you through the palace to his bed.”

She blushed fiercely. She would never forgive Hades for that.

“I see it’s true.”

Persephone rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it.

“So, tell me—how was it?”

“I’m not going to talk to you about it, Hermes.”

“I bet he’s rough,” Hermes mused.

Persephone looked away both to hide her blush and her laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Hermes chuckled. “But truly—love looks good on you.”

“Love?” she almost choked.

“Oh dear—you haven’t realized it yet, have you?”

“Realized what?”

“That you’re in love with Hades.”

“I’m not!”

“Are too,” he said. “And he loves you.”

“I almost preferred your questions about my sex life,” she muttered.

Hermes laughed. “You walked into this room like you were his queen. You think he would let just anyone do that?”

She honestly didn’t know.

“I think the Lord of the Underworld has found his bride.”

She wanted to argue that Hades hadn’t found her—he’d captured her—but instead of saying that, she raised her brow at the God of Trickery. “Hermes, are you drunk?”

“A little,” he admitted sheepishly, Persephone laughed, but his words worked into her mind. Did she love Hades? She had only let herself think of it briefly after their first night together and then crushed those thoughts altogether.

As Hermes spun her, she glanced around, searching the crowd for Hades. She hadn’t seen him since they had come down the stairs together, and she’d immediately been surrounded by souls. She spotted him sitting in a dark throne. He was reclined, a hand raised to his lips, staring at her. Thanatos stood on one side, dressed in black, his wings folded neatly like a cape. Minthe loomed on the other looking radiant in shimmery black. They were like an angel and a devil on the shoulders of the God of the Dead.

Persephone looked away quickly, but Hermes seemed to notice she was distracted and stopped dancing.

“It’s alright, Sephy.” He released her. “Go to him.”

Persephone hesitated. “It’s okay—”

“Claim him, Persephone.”

She smiled at Hermes, and the crowd parted as she made her way to Hades. He watched her, and she couldn’t quite place the look on his face, but something inside her was drawn to him. As she neared, his hand fell, resting on the arm of his throne. She bowed low, then rose.

“My lord, will you dance?”

Hades’ eyes were alight, and his lips twitched. He stood, a towering and commanding figure, and took her hand, leading her to the floor. The souls made room, packing in against the walls to give them space and to watch. Hades drew her against him, his hand firm on her back, the other laced between her fingers.

She had been closer to him than this, but there was something about the way he held her now before all of his subjects that made her skin burn. The air grew thick and charged between them. They didn’t speak for a long moment, just looked at one another.

“Are you displeased?” she asked after some time.

“Am I displeased that you have danced with Charon and Hermes?” he asked.

Is that what she was asking? She stared at him and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her ear. “I am displeased that I am not inside you.”

She tried not to smile. “My lord, why didn’t you say so?”

His eyes darkened. “Careful, Goddess, I have no qualms taking you before my whole realm.”

“You wouldn’t.”

His look challenged, She didn’t.

They glided across the floor in silence for a little while longer before Hades pulled her off the floor and up the stairs. Behind them, the crowd clapped and whistled.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To remedy my displeasure,” he replied.

Once they left the ballroom, he led her outside onto a balcony at the end of the hall. It was a large space—and Persephone became distracted by the view it offered, an underworld cloaked in darkness, ignited by glimmering starlight. She marveled at the craftsmanship the attention to detail.

This was Hades’ magic.

But when she started to walk ahead of Hades, he pulled her back to him. His eyes were dark, communicating his need.

“Why did you ask me to drop my glamour?” she asked.

Hades brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I told you—you will not hide here. You needed to understand what it is to be a god.”

“I’m not like you,” she said.

His hands trailed up her arms and he smiled. “No, we have only two things in common.”

She raised a brow. “And those are?”

“We are both Divine,” he said, inching closer. “And the space we share.”

He lifted her into his arms, and her back met the wall. Hades’ hands were almost desperate, drawing up her dress and parting robes. He sank deep inside her without warning and they both groaned. His forehead rested against hers, and she inhaled a shaky breath. “Is this what it’s like to be a god?”

Hades pulled back to meet her gaze. “This is what it is like to have my favor,” he answered, and moved, sliding in and out, invading her in the most delicious way. Their gazes held and their breaths became heavier, faster.

Persephone’s head fell back, the stone bit into her scalp and back, but she didn’t care. Each thrust touched something deep inside her, building sensation after sensation.

“You are perfect,” he said, fingers twisting into her hair. He cupped the back of her head, his thrusts taunted as he slowed, moving at a pace that ensured she could feel every part of him.

“You are beautiful. I have never wanted like I want with you.”

His admission came with a kiss, and then Hades pumped in and out of her harder than ever and her body devoured him. They came together, their cries smothered by their clasped lips.

Hades withdrew carefully, holding her against him until her legs stopped shaking. Then sky ignited behind them, and Hades drew her to the edge of the balcony.

“Watch,” he said.

On the dark horizon, fire shot into the sky, disappearing into a trail of glimmering sparks.

“The souls are returning to the mortal world,” Hades said. “This is reincarnation.”

Persephone watched in awe as more and more souls rose into the sky, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

It was magic.

Below, the residents of the Underworld had gathered in the stone courtyard, and when the final souls rose into the air, they broke into applause, music began again, and the merriment continued. Persephone found herself smiling, and when she looked at Hades, he was staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Let me worship you,” he said.

She remembered the words she had whispered to him in the back of the limo after La Rose.

She answered, “Yes.”