Page 69 of Hades

Had they been deployed elsewhere during the time Erastus had been stationed at her door and his count had been wrong?

The thought that this male could be the last one standing between her and freedom had hope surging to reignite her will to fight. She gathered the last shreds of her strength and launched an attack, making a feint as she closed the distance between her and the male.

He didn’t fall for it.

Rather than moving right to block her way to the stairs, he moved left—right into her path.

She reacted quickly, bringing her sword up, aimed at his stomach.

He reacted quicker.

His sword struck hers and it tumbled from her grip.

The next thing she knew, she was on her knees.

And his sword was at her throat.

Chapter 19

Hades tipped his head back and looked up the height of the tan stone tower tipped with a flat roof, his gut twisting at the thought his beautiful wife had ended up shut in a tower once again.

A prisoner.

If he hadn’t suspected before that she was bait, he would have known without a doubt now, as the wards that had kept this newly constructed tower hidden from view drained his strength and stole his shadows from his grasp. Thankfully, his helmet continued to work, defying whatever spells had been laced into the wards, keeping him hidden from view of the soldiers.

Mnemosyne had wanted him to come for Persephone.

This was a trap designed for him, but one he wouldn’t fall prey to.

The urge to glance back and check on Keras and the others as they clashed with Mnemosyne’s forces was strong, but he denied it, trusting that they would overcome the threat despite their disadvantages and focusing on his mission instead. Keras, Enyo, Thanatos and Calindria were buying him time to find Persephone and it was time he wouldn’t squander.

With each step closer he came to the tower, the need to find Persephone grew, morphing into a terrible beast that pulled the darkness he had been struggling to hold back to the surface again. It surged through the ice the pills created within him and he harnessed it this time, willingly stepping into the abyss, aware he needed the strength and ferocity that came with losing himself to the darker side of his blood.

His nails sharpened into claws and his fangs bit into his gums as he rushed the tower, reaching it just as the first sounds of battle rang out behind him and a bell clanged.

Hades swept into the tower, catching the first soldier off guard.

Before the male knew what was happening, the twin spikes of Hades’s bident were lodged deep in his skull and spine. Hades wrenched it free and turned as the male dropped, startling the other three guards who were waiting at the base of a curved stone staircase that hugged the wall of the tower. They spun as one, shock rippling across their faces as they saw the fallen male and then readied their swords, their frenzied eyes seeking out the attacker.

He moved as a wraith through them, his lips peeling back off his fangs in a grin as he speared one with the sharp end of his bident’s staff and then pulled it free and twisted to lodge the twin spikes into the stomach of another. The three fell too easily, not satisfying the hunger surging out of control inside him, a need that bayed for blood.

Several more soldiers stormed down the stairs and Hades met them, driving his black-and-gold bident into the chest of the first and hefting him over his head. He gripped the weapon in both hands and drove the pointed end of the staff at the next soldier as he staggered, surprise washing across his features. His eyes widened for another reason as Hades speared the left side of his chest and drove forwards, ramming the sharp tip straight through him and into another male, and then another. When the point struck the stone wall, he pressed his boot against the chest of the first guard and pulled his bident free of all of them as he kicked forwards.

The three guards landed in a heap in the stairwell, choking on their own blood, and he paused for a moment, studying them as they feebly clung to life.

Feeling no satisfaction in their deaths.

He canted his head, studying the feeling as he watched them. Their deaths should have satisfied him and fed the dark beast within him. Why didn’t they?

The reason hit him and he reached up and pulled his helmet off.

The moment he materialised, fear painted their faces white.

In ashen shades of death.

He grinned down at them, baring his fangs, savouring their terror as they stared up at him and he saw that they knew.

They knew that he wasn’t done with them.

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