Page 46 of Queen of the Underworld

And would stay away from her until he was certain he could control it when he was near her.

A voice at the back of his mind warned that overcoming the darkness alone would take too much time. Could he live without seeing Persephone for that long?

Hades wasn’t sure.

Today had been torturous and he had only needed to occupy himself for the better part of a day.

He had busied himself with dealing with the disquiet in the Elysian Fields, and reading the reports from the legions, burying himself in work and avoiding any summons to go to Tartarus, entrusting the commander there could handle the situation. If he had gone to Tartarus, the malevolence and anger rooted in that place would have roused the darkness, undoing all his hard work to keep it in check.

When he had returned to his chambers, he had been accosted by his head servant, the female he had sent to deal with Persephone. She had meekly informed him of the things his queen had asked about, admitting she had taught her the meaning of two words of the language of the Underworld, and repeating several times that she hadn’t answered her questions about the location of the gate to Olympus.

His little queen was curious, and rather than angering him, it pleased him in a way. She wanted to know more about his realm, and was wise enough to know learning the language of it would be to her advantage.

When his servant had asked whether she should remain mute around Persephone, Hades had given her leave to answer his queen’s questions—within reason. She was not to tell Persephone of the gate. Hades couldn’t risk her knowing its location if she escaped.

He had also told her to only reveal the meaning of every other word she asked about, keeping her in the dark to a degree.

Some foolish part of him hoping Persephone would turn to him for instruction instead.

In the last hour of his day, his ability to focus had utterly failed him and he had ended up standing on the paved area that surrounded all sides of his black temple, positioned between two of the immense fluted columns that supported the overhanging roof, staring at the tower.

Wondering if he really could vanquish the darkness.

Wondering what Persephone was doing.

Was she waiting for him?

He felt he was waiting for her.

He felt he had been waiting for her his entire life.

“My god-king.” A blonde female stopped near him and he didn’t take his eyes off the tower.

“You are to deliver my usual dinner to the tower but with enough for two. I will be dining there tonight.” His voice was steady despite the nerves that trickled through him, or was that excitement?

When had he last dined with someone?

He felt the servant’s surprise and glowered at her, and she bowed her head and hurried away from him. It was unusual that he would have a guest for dinner, and that he wouldn’t be taking it in his grand dining hall, but it wasn’t the servant’s place to silently comment upon it. He needed to have words with her superior, ensuring it wouldn’t happen again.

Hades pivoted on his heel, his heavy cloak whirling outwards with the sharp action, and strode into his chambers, slamming the wooden doors behind him. He didn’t stop until he was at the large bed positioned against the opposite wall and gazing down at the outfit he had carefully selected.

He hadn’t failed to notice that Persephone had been more at ease around him when she had seen him without his armour, or that flicker of heat that had darkened her eyes as she had taken him in, her leisurely once over making him feel she had been stripping him in her mind.

So, he had chosen another of his tunics, one that was even more form-fitting, and a pair of buttery soft black leather trousers, hoping the former would entice her into gazing upon his body and the latter would make her want to touch it.

Hades stripped down to nothing, casting his clothes aside, and pulled on the trousers, lacing them over his crotch. He tugged on the tunic and buttoned it, and then stepped back into his boots and fastened them.

He looked himself over and then crossed the room to the full-length mirror near a side table and inspected his appearance. The outfit suited him, and revealed his physique. He tugged the hem of the tunic down over his thighs, his fingers shaking. He brought one hand up before him and glared at them. Flicked them. He had no reason to be nervous.

Telling himself that didn’t stop him from feeling it.

It felt as if a lot rested on tonight, and the closer he came to seeing Persephone again, the worse his nerves became.

He reached for the purple glass bottle on the side table, uncorking it and swigging the ambrosia it contained. A warm haze rolled through him as it slid down his throat and heated his stomach.

Drinking might not be wise, but each sip of ambrosia he’d had since returning to his chambers had taken the edge off his mood and chased away his nerves, and was even helping to mellow him out. He took another swig, savouring its effects and how the darkness he could feel lurking within him grew quieter, and then tipped the bottle away from him and stared at it.

He wouldn’t drink too much. Just a sip now and then.

---