Page 72 of Hades

Even now, when all he had was the feel of her hand in his, the darker side of him was calming again, loosening its hold on him enough that he could think clearly again. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he had lost her, if he had been too late to save her. The darkness roared back to life, swamping him in a black shroud that threatened to rip his fragile control from him.

He squeezed her hand once more, seeking comfort from her, reassurance he badly needed.

This time she squeezed back.

Her words were whisper-soft in the heavy air. “I am fine, my love. I am not hurt and I will be well. Let us just get away from this wretched place. I want to go home.”

He swallowed thickly, pushing down the rage her words triggered in him as he latched onto the fear that laced them—fear that warned there were things she wasn’t telling him. She was making light of whatever ordeal she had been through in this place, covering it up.

Not because she didn’t want him to know.

He focused on the world around them as lightning split the sky and the wind drove waves against the tower, filling the air with the scent of saltwater and seaweed.

She was trying to protect the mortal world from his wrath and the devastation it would suffer if he lost his temper more than he had already.

“Let us go,” she murmured, entreating him in a way he couldn’t refuse.

He nodded, retrieved his bident and gripped it tightly as he tugged her forwards, leading the way down the narrow staircase. Her breathing remained calm and steady, even when she had to scramble over the bodies he had left in their path.

He glanced back at where he knew she was, finding it impossible to deny the need to know something. “How did you escape?”

Her voice drifted around him. “A guard… Erastus. He helped me escape. He had been with the palace guard.”

He growled now, fury blazing through his blood at the knowledge one of his own trusted guards had turned against the family they had vowed to protect.

“Hades,” she said softly, her voice a balm that was in danger of soothing him when he wanted to hunt down the one who had betrayed them and destroy him. “He gave his life to save mine. Without him… I gave my word that you would guide his soul to the Elysian Fields.”

Hades wanted to bark that he would do no such thing, but the silence that stretched between him and Persephone was thick with anticipation. She expected him to rage about it and deny her, making her break her solemn vow. Instead of doing exactly that, he focused on her soft breathing, each one she drew down a gift that male had given to her—to Hades. Without Erastus’s help, there was a chance she might not have survived long enough to make it back into Hades’s arms.

So while he wanted the bastard to suffer for betraying him, he would do as his wife bid.

Erastus would find his way to the Elysian Fields.

Although that didn’t mean Hades wouldn’t be having a few choice words with the male once he got there.

Erastus had failed him in life, and so he would serve him in death, until his debt had been repaid.

“Not a word now,” Hades whispered as they reached the exit and the sound of the storm grew louder, wind howling across the open ground outside and rain pelting the earth.

Behind him, Persephone fell silent, even her breaths disappearing. Only the feel of her hand in his told him she was still with him. He peered outside, into the thick haze of the heavy rain, preparing to fight their way free of the wards.

Only the soldiers who had been battling Keras and the others were all dead.

“Where’s Mother?” Keras whipped to face Hades, a bloodied sword still held firmly in his grip. Crimson streaked his face too, running in rivulets over his cheeks as rain battered him, and his green eyes were fierce with a battle haze.

Hades stepped out from the tower, uncaring as the storm saturated his hair and chilled his skin in an instant, and Keras looked beyond him, the dark slashes of his eyebrows meeting hard as he saw Hades was alone.

But not alone.

“Where is she?” Keras’s gaze darted back to him, and then to his side again, and relief flooded his eyes and his shoulders sagged.

Calindria stepped away from Thanatos, brushing his hand aside and stopping him from checking a wound that cut across her shoulder, that same look of relief in her blue eyes.

Hades looked to his left, at Persephone, where she stood holding the black helmet in one hand, her other still fiercely clutching his. The rain turned her scarlet hair into tangled wet ribbons and washed some of the blood from her fair skin. It stuck the delicate fabric of her black nightgown to her curves too, drawing his gaze to her body and stoking a fire inside him that burned all reason to ashes.

By the gods, he needed her.

A smile wobbled on her lips and a crease formed between her eyebrows as they furrowed.

---