Page 15 of Queen of the Underworld

Curiosity kept her feet rooted in place in the grass.

Why did he look as if her leaving would destroy him?

Darkness swept across the land, spreading outwards from him, and the air chilled as shadows snaked through the trees like onyx ribbons and the forest stilled, growing deathly quiet.

And she knew.

This was no man.

This was a god.

And his power was incredible as it surrounded her, fierce and dark, and immense. Like nothing she had felt before. It seeped into her skin, heightening her awareness of him until her body vibrated with it as he stared at her, drawing all her focus to him. The forest around them fell away, until there was only her and this bewitching male, and the only sound in her ears was her unsteady breathing as it trembled from her lips.

Persephone recalled the stories mortals told about this place at the end of the world.

That it was the gateway to a realm that was grim and terrifying.

A realm of death.

Ruled by a dark and malevolent god.

“Hades,” she breathed as she stared at him, at the pointed onyx spikes that rose from his thick black hair like a crown, one fit for a dark king.

Something crossed his features, something that made her feel…powerful. As if she had power over him, not the other way around. His fierce expression softened, some of the darkness leaving it as he gazed at her, the rigid line of his shoulders relaxing beneath his pauldrons. She wanted to speak his name again to see if she had imagined his reaction to it, and see if she really did have power over him. The thought she might had her body warming and strange sensations igniting inside her, ones that were as unsettling as his steady gaze.

Now that he didn’t look so frightening, he was almosthandsome. She felt wicked as she admitted that to herself. The god-king of the Underworld was handsome. Her mother would throw a fit if she heard Persephone say that. All of Olympus would be horrified. She stared at him, feeling a little bold as he remained where he was, at a safe distance, and just gazed at her.

As if she had bewitched him.

Her pulse steadied, her fear slowly trickling away as seconds ticked past and neither of them moved.

What would he do if she moved?

When she had gone to leave, he had stepped towards her, as if he wanted to stop her. If she moved a step in his direction, would more of that darkness lift from his handsome features? If she moved a step away, would that darkness return?

Did he find her as fascinating as she found him?

Crimson bled into the edges of his blue irises and his lips flattened, as if he was irritated by something. His fingers flexed, sharp black talons that sliced through the air in a stilted fashion, as if his body was too tense to move smoothly. She gazed at his wide shoulders and thought they might have lifted again, growing rigid once more. It was hard to tell with his armour concealing them, not only the vicious-looking black pauldrons that protected his shoulders but the folds of his black cloak where it was affixed to clasps on either side of his neck.

He looked nothing like an Olympian.

He was all wicked darkness.

From the sharp spikes of his obsidian crown that protruded from his black hair, smallest near his temples and largest at the back of his head, to the sharp talons that tipped his fingers and the pointed toes of his boots.

And that growing ring of crimson around his irises.

What did that mean?

She wanted to know.

Her maidens called again, piercing the spell he had cast once more.

Persephone tore her gaze away from him, turning to go to them and aware that if she kept them waiting much longer that they would come to check on her. She didn’t want them seeing Hades and potentially running afoul of his infamous temper.

Darkness filled her vision, a wall of black armour that hugged a lean, masculine figure, and she gasped as a cool palm met her forehead, sending electricity arcing down her spine.

A thick, black fog instantly rolled through her mind, dimming it and sucking the strength from her.

---