Page 2 of Queen of the Underworld

The darkness purred again, wrapping cold arms around him that promised oblivion. That promised an end to his suffering.

It was better he felt nothing.

Then the betrayals didn’t cut so deep.

He frowned at his hands as a flicker of a memory broke the surface, shimmering just beyond his reach—the reason the darkness had consumed him. It was there and gone in a flash, and he snarled as he cursed it, as he tried to make it come back. Lightning struck all around him, carving great pits in the black earth, and in the distance ahead of him, people screamed.

His grin slowly returned as one by one those screams fed the darkness and dulled his emotions, leaving him numb once more. Before it took him again, tearing awareness and control from him, a question echoed in his mind.

What was he so angry about?

The darkness purred an answer.

What did it matter?

Every day was the same. Nothing would ever change that. He woke in a black rage, consumed by something he could not name, his soul shrouded in darkness, and stalked from his temple to carry out his duties.

Over and over again.

Forever.

Hades pushed back the darkness, mastering it again, but not quite able to shed it completely. It hissed another question at him, another attempt to tear him down and make him give in, one that had him wavering and had anger spiking his blood.

How long had it been since he had seen the sun?

He gazed skywards, but there was blood red where he felt blue should have been, and thick plumes of black ash where white clouds should have drifted.

Hades curled his lip and shut down that line of thought, his mood darkening further as his black eyebrows knitted hard. He sneered at his realm, one made of ash and blood.

A realm of darkness.

Where Zeus, his youngest brother, had dared to banish him while he bathed in the light of Olympus, and allowed their brother, Poseidon, to rule another realm of sunshine and life.

While Hades ruled death.

They had betrayed him. Yes. His own flesh and blood. His own brothers. Even Poseidon, the one he had protected with his life countless times, had betrayed him. They always betrayed him. Always formed an allied front against him. Always sought to cage him here. To steal the light from him.

Another scream scraped in his ears like a broken symphony as he entered a village, his horses not slowing as they thundered down the narrow path that cut through the heart of the cluster of thatched black stone buildings. Males and females desperately scrambled out of his way, racing for cover to avoid being struck by his horses or the lightning that slammed into the ground.

Hades glared at the noble souls.

Souls sent to him by Zeus.

“Olympians,” he growled.

On a sneer, he unleashed a fraction of his power.

Behind him, a great fault split the earth in two, and those screams became bellows of sheer terror, threaded with notes of agony as other males and females yelled names or cried for help.

Hades’s eyelids drooped to half-mast and his smile grew lazy as his shadows seized those who were close to climbing free of the crevasse and hurled them into the dark depths. Pleasure rolled through him, fogging his mind and making him crave more.

He turned his sights on the road ahead of him, one that cut through a gorge.

The souls who were walking along it towards him all fell to their knees as he approached and clasped their hands together, raising them above their bowed heads as they murmured praise to him.

His shadows tore from the ground, rocketing towards them.

Hades clamped his molars together and growled as he shoved back against the darkness, subduing it in time to halt the shadows before they cut the people to ribbons. He breathed hard as he drew them back to him and wrestled for control of his own body, clawing it back inch by inch. The darkness within him writhed and snarled, battering the cage of his body and scraping at his mind, raking talons over it in a light caress as it poured honeyed words in his ear.

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