Page 35 of Queen of the Underworld

If she didn’t rest, she wouldn’t have the strength to keep fighting Hades, or the clarity of mind she needed in order to decipher his wards.

Persephone crawled onto the far-too-soft bed and sank into it, a sigh escaping her. It was like lying on a cloud. It cushioned her perfectly and seemed to wrap around her to embrace her, like a warm cocoon.

Sleep took her the moment she closed her eyes.

And she sensed the brush of his power against her as it claimed her.

Chapter 9

When Persephone woke, the sky was crimson again, and she was alone.

But someone had set a tray of fruit on a small table on the opposite side of the circular room.

She looked around, sure she would find Hades nearby, only he wasn’t there. Rather than going to the food, she went to the balcony and watched the world and the coming and going of the people who visited the temple and the soldiers at the barracks.

It didn’t take her long to realise she was watching for Hades.

She huffed, a little angry with herself.

Because she wasn’t looking for him in order to protect herself or prepare herself for another fight with him. She was watching for him because that part of her that was drawn to him wanted to see him again, itching to seek out more puzzle pieces and perhaps risk asking him why he changed so abruptly at times, becoming another male.

When the number of temple visitors dwindled, she went back to studying the wards, occupying herself into the evening, and then slept again. This time when she woke, the food had been replaced.

Was Hades visiting her while she slumbered?

If he was, what did he do when he was near her?

Persephone touched her lips, a thrill skittering along her spine that she quickly shut down. If he had kissed her, she would wake. She was sure of that.

Maybe he wasn’t the one who brought her food, or if he was, he didn’t stay.

“Perhaps he is done with me and I will never see him again.” She sounded bitter even to her own ears as she cast the black sheets aside and slid from the bed.

That regret that she kept denying bubbled back to the surface, twisting her stomach and making her feel wretched. If he was determined to stay away from her, she could hardly blame him. She had said terrible things to him, ones that had wounded him and angered him too. She drifted to the balcony, replaying his reaction and trying to remember the words he had growled in her face, wanting to study his language so she could somehow learn it and would know what he was saying when he spoke to her in that tongue.

A tongue he clearly knew she was unfamiliar with and that was the reason he resorted to using it, keeping the things he wanted to say secret from her. Why didn’t he want her to know what he was saying? The only reason that came to her was one that had her mood shifting and the strength she had gathered wavering.

He was saying things about her.

Persephone shoved that out of her head before it could take root and drag her down into the mire that always awaited her whenever she let the opinions of others get to her, or thought about her life in general.

She focused on her work, keeping herself occupied by studying the sides of the tower. The stone was rough in places, forming possible hand and foot holds. Could she climb down? She couldn’t see that many points where she could grip the walls from this angle. She moved to study the other side to see if there were any potential holds there.

And stilled.

Hades.

He walked the black lands a few hundred feet away, a shadow stalking across the grim terrain.

And he wasn’t alone.

An enormous three-headed black wolf walked with him, standing twice his height, its glowing blue eyes fixed on Hades.

Persephone fell into studying him instead, leaning on the stone railing to catalogue everything about him as he walked with the beast, his lips moving soundlessly. Was he talking to it? When he petted the hound’s shoulder and his body language changed, becoming more than merely relaxed, fascination gripped her. He was different with this creature. Not the hard, controlling male he had been with his soldiers. He was softer.

She could almost believe him capable of feeling as she watched him.

She wanted to laugh at that.

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