In the direction of his temple.
The tower close to it taunted and tempted him, a beacon he couldn’t escape no matter how far he strayed from it, attempting to maintain his distance from his queen.
His queen?
He scoffed at that and growled, “If she is my queen, why does she resist me so?”
Zeus had said he could take her, so the goddess was his now, but she refused to accept him, despite the desire that shone in her eyes at times. He had taken that flicker of heat as an invitation, as any male surely would have, but she had spurned him each time, denying him. He wasn’t reading her wrong.
Or at least he didn’t think he was.
It had been so long since he had been in the company of a female that he felt rusty—as witless as a young male with little to no experience. His past conquests had been centuries ago, too far back for him to recall any specific details.
Instinct had served him well in the past though—in battle and in ruling his kingdom—and he felt sure it was right this time too.
The awakening of her passion had been unmistakable. Her breaths had quickened. Her striking emerald eyes had darkened and her pupils had dilated. And she had subtly arched her body towards his, beckoning him and making him overcome with a need to have her.
If they weren’t signs of desire, then what were they?
That need she had stoked had continued to ravage him in their time apart, keeping him awake in his bed at night and distracting him throughout the day, making it difficult to focus on his duties.
When all he wanted to do was return to his queen and kiss her.
A foolish endeavour.
Hisqueenwould only turn on him again.
Striking him.
His talons flexed and he growled as fury spilled through his veins and filled him with an urge to strike back at her. He unleashed that black rage on the lands around him instead, refusing to harm his beauty. The sound of rock splitting filled the air as jagged fault lines branched out behind him.
“She would do well to obey me,” he muttered in the language of the Underworld, a tongue he had spoken in front of her and had sensed her confusion in response to hearing it. He glared at his realm and at the soldiers who bowed their heads or lowered to one knee as he swept past them. “She would do well to be as deferential as these males.”
But he had the feeling she would remain defiant, despite the fact he ruled this realm and was a king among gods.
It was infuriating.
And intriguing.
Hades set his sights back on the tower that reached high into the crimson sky, powerless to resist the pull that drew him towards it.
Towards her.
That pull was as fierce now as it had been the day he had met her, and again he foolishly wondered whether the Moirai had intervened to bring them together. For what purpose? To punish him in some manner? To taunt him with something he desired, but could not have? He doubted their actions had been magnanimous if they were behind his meeting with the goddess.
He huffed and muttered, “No god or goddess outside of this realm would do anything that might benefit me. They veil scorn with kindness, seeking to mock or belittle me.”
And yet, as he gazed at the tower, that feeling in his chest sank deeper, fusing with his bones to tug him towards the goddess.
It had been days since he had left her, a tactic he often used on his prisoners in Tartarus, giving them time to become accustomed to their surroundings. Days that had been a torment to him, although he doubted they had caused her as much strife. His queen had no doubt been pleased that he hadn’t come to see her and had left her alone.
She might have even attempted to escape despite his warnings.
Not that it would get her anywhere.
The only way out of the tower was to throw herself off the balcony, and he didn’t think she was so desperate to escape him that she would break her bones to achieve it.
He had warded the door to keep it sealed shut to her and had made sure to keep her powers from her too, exerting much of his strength to create another ward that would inhibit them no matter where she went in his realm.