Page 11 of Queen of the Underworld

“What is this about, Hades?” Zeus said, his bass voice pitched low, a cautious edge to it that didn’t quite cover the anger Hades could hear.

And sense in him.

Hades slanted his younger brother a dark look, but remained where he was, his body facing the chaise longue and that view of endless blue sky, white buildings and glittering turquoise sea, all bathed in bright sunlight.

Warm sunlight.

Clouds formed on the horizon. Black. Forbidding. A storm that would ravage this peaceful, pretty little city if he remained where he was for long enough and made him want to linger, so those under Zeus’s rule would know their god-king’s power was not absolute.

Zeus had come to him unprepared. His brother wore only a white knee-length chiton embroidered with gold, and leather sandals. The waves of his brown hair were damp, as if he had been bathing. Perhaps he had and that was the reason he hadn’t donned his golden armour.

“Hades,” Zeus demanded, his tone hardening as his golden eyes flashed.

Making his name an order to answer him this time.

Or what?

They would fight?

Hades turned the darkness into an impenetrable wall around his heart, welcoming the numbing cold as it obliterated his softer feelings, stopping them from reaching the surface so his face remained impassive.

Shadows shifted around the pointed toes of his metal boots as he pivoted to face his younger brother, seething with a need to make that fight happen. It would be glorious, and he would be the victor. The thought of crushing his insolent brother and reminding him that he wasn’t the most powerful god—only the most powerful Olympian—was alluring, enough to have his mind growing hazy with pleasure that tempted him into striking first.

He clawed back control instead, because if he fought Zeus, then he wouldn’t be able to tell his brother what he had come here to say, because Zeus would be nothing more than a bloody stain on the white marble floor. And the walls. And the columns.

And that precious gold chaise that his brother loved to rest upon, gazing out at his bright city.

Doing nothing.

Zeus acted as if being the god-king of Olympus was a difficult and demanding duty, but it wasn’t. His brother wasted his hours lazing in his temple, allowing his subordinates to do everything, and not bound by any real duty.

Unlike Hades.

“Hades,” Zeus said, softer this time as he sighed. “I will not ask again. What brings you here?”

Hades looked back at the horizon and the approaching storm, sensing the unrest spreading through the city as the citizens noticed it too. He savoured it, soaking it all up and feeding on it. They were right to fear. His gaze grew hooded. If he teleported to the harbour, or perhaps one of the busy squares, terror would snake through this city, throwing the peaceful streets into turmoil. He would shake Olympus.

Zeus’s gaze drilled into him, and Hades sensed the warning. His brother was aware of the path of his dark thoughts and if Hades didn’t answer soon, he would find himself removed from this realm before he could get what he had come here for.

“What brought me here?” Hades murmured. He saw the scarlet-haired maiden in his mind, an unearthly beauty whose memory was enough to have his heart pounding. He put force behind his words. “I have seen my future queen. You and Poseidon have your queens, the latter at great cost to myself and the balance of these realms. I have deemed it is only fitting that I have one of my own. A king should have a queen, and I have chosen mine.” He sensed the shock that ran through Zeus, an emotion that grew stronger as Hades added, “She is a goddess of Olympus.”

Hades knew that without a doubt. A beauty such as her could only come from this place of light and life.

He slid a look at Zeus, satisfaction rolling through him as he caught the stunned expression on his brother’s tanned face. It morphed into another emotion before Hades could savour it. A look that could have been mistaken for tenderness.

But Hades knew his brother too well.

Any moment now, Zeus would tell him to return to the Underworld and forget the goddess, because she would never be his.

“So take her and make her yours.”

Those words leaving his brother’s lips had his gaze leaping back to him just as he was about to look at the city again. His eyes widened slightly as he reeled. He stared at Zeus, at his brother’s flat expression that spoke of how serious he was, unsure how to proceed.

Until it dawned on him that Zeus had just given him permission to take the female he desired.

A dark need to claim her swept through him.

His heart laboured and his lips stretched into a grin as a feeling pounded inside him, one that clouded his mind and silenced the voice clamouring in his head, screaming at him to follow through with his original plan—to make his appearance more pleasing before he approached her.

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