Page 94 of Queen of the Underworld

But they crested the highest point on the pass and her breath left her in a rush.

The whole of the Underworld stretched before her.

She could see miles into the distance, across a plain where jagged mountain ranges jutted into it to divide the flat land and villages and what looked like another barracks. Her gaze darted over everything, her fear forgotten as they turned and headed downwards, the narrow road leading them towards one of those villages. Wind whipped against her, making her dress flutter around her legs and her hair slap her in her face to obscure her vision. She released the chariot and gathered the scarlet lengths, twisting them together and holding them at her shoulder.

And only realised what she had done when Hades’s hold on her tightened.

She leaned into him, warmth rushing through her as she trusted him to keep her safely on the chariot and savoured the feel of him against her.

They passed at speed through the nearest village, a collection of black stone buildings with dark tiled roofs, and she didn’t miss how the souls in it stopped to watch Hades pass, moving to one side of the road. Not Hades, she realised. They stared at her, their gazes curious.

She locked eyes with one woman, turning in Hades’s arms to track her as they passed her and she drifted into the distance.

Unmistakable hope shone in her eyes.

There had been fear on the faces of many of the villagers as they had approached, but that fear had disappeared when they had seen her. Why? It dawned on her. Hades ruled this realm and the impression he had given her was that he wasn’t a kind king, that he ruled with an iron fist, and hadn’t even separated the good souls from the wretched, evil ones.

But Nyx had said he was changing.

She looked at him, wanting to confirm her suspicions about the reason the villagers had looked at her with hope, and maybe even a little gratitude. “Were any of those people bad souls?”

Hades didn’t take his eyes off the route ahead as he shook his head, his deep baritone holding a hard note. “No.”

She stared at his profile. “Have bad souls lived there in the past?”

She had wanted to ask if they had lived there before he had met her, before he had started to change, to shed the darkness and step towards the light—because of her.

He slid a look at her, a brief glance that sent a thrill down her spine together with his words. “Once. I have since separated them. The souls of the wicked now reside in another area of the realm.”

“All the wicked have been moved?” She frowned at him now as she struggled to tame her hair again and pin it to her shoulder. “Not just from this village, but from all the others too?”

“From many of them now. I am still working on moving them.” He urged the horses onwards with a snap of the reins and flicked a brief glance at her before his eyes darted back to the animals.

He felt awkward again, and it wasn’t because she was staring at him. It was because he had done something kind—something to improve the lives of his people—and he feared she might pick him up on it.

She wanted to say it sounded as if it was a lot of work, and now she understood his long absences, but instead pointed towards a glow in the distance. “Is that a fire?”

He shook his head again. “A lava lake. It lies beyond the next range.”

“Can we go there?” She slid him a hopeful glance. A lake that emanated such a glow sounded intriguing.

He met her gaze, caught it and nodded, and then pulled on the reins, guiding the horses around to the right and picking up a faint track that cut across the black earth in that direction.

They passed through another village where the same thing happened. People stopped what they were doing and stared at her, several of the men even drifting forwards to the edge of the road.

Hades loosed a vicious growl and pinned her closer to his side, the dark power he emanated growing stronger, and she gasped as shadows fluttered around her. They danced in front of her face at first, but when a large male packed with muscle and wearing only thick leather trousers moved out from the shelter of what looked like a blacksmith, his body streaked with soot, the shadows grew sharp.

Like swords.

Persephone gasped when Hades drew the horses to a sudden stop and momentum threw her forwards. Her stomach slammed into the curved front of the chariot, knocking the wind from her lungs and ripping a grunt from her lips. She clutched the edge of the chariot and pushed herself upright.

One look at Hades was all it took to know something was wrong.

Very wrong.

He stood beside her on the chariot, his features rapidly darkening, as if a storm cloud was rolling across them. She stared at him, transfixed by the changes that came over him as he glared at the blacksmith, but shocked by them too. As crimson flooded his irises and then seeped into his pupils to transform them into fire, and onyx invaded his irises in its wake, she could almost see his humanity being stripped from him.

The light severed from his soul to leave him drenched in darkness.

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