Page 85 of A Touch of Chaos

As they teleported, he healed what could be mended, highly aware that the wound at his side was impervious to his magic. He was already imagining what Hecate would say—how Persephone would react.

When they arrived in the Underworld, he kept Persephone close, holding her gaze as he swept a strand of hair behind her ear before tipping her head back for a better look at her face—and access to her mouth.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said in a hushed whisper meant only forthe dim glow of their bedroom. His hand tightened at the base of her head, desire igniting in the pit of his stomach.

“I dreamed only of you in the dark of that labyrinth,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. He wanted nothing between them save this sweet tension, but Ariadne cleared her throat, and Persephone responded, breaking this hypnotic hold.

A sliver of frustration shot up his spine. It did not help that he was not particularly pleased with the mortal detective and her previous refusal to help him, especially given the horror in the labyrinth, though he had to admit, he’d like to know what finally convinced her.

“Where is Dionysus?”

“Wherever you left him,” Hades replied.

“Hades,” Persephone chided.

She pulled away, and he was frustrated by the distance.

“I answered the question to the best of my ability,” he said. He did not know where the God of Wine was, and frankly, he did not care. The only thing he wanted to know was how long until he could be alone with Persephone.

“If that was your best, I feel sorry for you, Persephone,” Ariadne said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I am just giving you the same energy you gave me,” Hades replied.

“What is wrong with you two?” Persephone demanded, looking from him to the detective.

“He’s pissed because I refused to give him information on Theseus,” Ariadne said, then she looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I risked Phaedra’s safety once to tell you Theseus’s plans, and you did nothing to help her. What makes you think I would do it again?”

Persephone met his gaze. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, like she was ready to be disappointed.

“Is that true?”

Hades crossed his arms over his chest. This was not at all how he imagined this reunion.

“I said I would help,” he countered. “I never specified when.”

There was a time and a place for everything, and rescuing Phaedra had, unfortunately, fallen further down the list as more and more pressing things came up—like the murder of Adonis, the attacks on Harmonia and Tyche, and the hunting and slaying of the ophiotaurus.

Not to mention, as far as Hades knew, Ariadne’s sister wasn’t interested in being rescued.

“Perhaps you haven’t realized since Phaedra is the center of your world, but there are people who have died by Theseus’s hands while she sits pretty at his side unharmed, so forgive me if she is not my priority.”

Hades did not like the silence that followed or the way Persephone was looking at him, like she was stunned by his harshness, but he did not regret his words even as Ariadne’s eyes reddened.

Fuck.

Maybe he did regret them.

“It’s all right,” Ariadne said. “Dionysus has done what you could not.”

And he would pay for it too.

He bit back his reply, though he was not surprised. The God of Wine was in love with the detective and would do anything for her, consequences be damned, and while Hades could relate to that, he did not trust that Ariadne was as invested.

Hades turned away from the two. If he lingered, he was going to say something else he regretted. He crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink, surprised by how strong the amber liquid smelled. It was warm and sweet, and it burned his nose. He placed the glass to his dry lips, his mouth salivating at the thought of taking a single sip, but then he heard Persephone speak.

“I’ll have Hermes—” She paused. “Never mind. I’ll take you to Dionysus.”

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