Page 3 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

“Wow.” I breathe, shifting through another hot cramp that prickles my skin. “Um…”

“I’ve always shared in the past.” He studies me, a small frown playing at his brow. “I told myself I preferred it, even. But with you—” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I would enjoy sharing you, Persephone. Not with anyone.”

My interest is piqued despite the clench of discomfort I feel in my belly at the idea of sharing Hades. Of him sharing me. It feels wrong.

This isn’t serious. It’s a summer fling, for frick’s sake. Get a grip, girl!

Summer fling or not, I don’t want to share him.

Still, I have to know. “You shared in the past?”

“Yes.” He nods easily, openly. The man has no shame or fear.What it must be like to live as he lives.

“What does that mean?”

His chest expands with a breath. “I’ve always had multiple lovers at any given time.”

I blink. I’m—well, I’m not sure what I am. Scandalized? Disgusted? Interested…

Slowly, I press, “Your partners have always been okay with this?”

“Yes.”

I force myself to take another bite of toast, sip my coffee. I need this moment to process thoughts that clearly can’t be processed, because my moment hasn’t made them any more clear.

“Have you never had a serious relationship?”

“I have.” Hades watches me carefully. “A very serious relationship. She was—she was my life partner.”

I frown. I hadn’t found any evidence of a woman in Hades’ life while I’d researched him onGoogle.

“You’re thinking,” Hades observes when I say nothing for long moments.

“Yes.” The word falls hoarse between us.

“Share with me,” he commands, as composed as ever.

I don’t know why it bothers me that he had someone in his life whom he cared so deeply about that he considered her his life partner. I don’t know why I feel this awful sting of ugly jealousy. I’m his employee whom he’s fooling around with. It won’t last—can’t last. In a few months, I’ll go home and he’ll move on. I might never forget him, might live the rest of my life with the scent of woodsmoke tailing every breath, but he will likely never think of me beyond this summer.

It stings, my reality. Like a whip lash to my battered heart.

I straighten in my seat, reminding myself that I’ma big girl now. I’ll have to learn to armour up my heart, or suffer the pain of a break. I tell him, “I never found evidence of a serious relationship onGoogle.”

“Ah.” He smiles, as though he anticipated my reply. I hate how sexy he is when he grins.I wait, not breathing, ignoring the twist of attraction in my belly, for his explanation. “We weren’t public.”

“How can that be? You’re all overGoogle.”

“When your life is as broadcast as mine, you find ways to keep the intimate pieces from spilling into the hands of the public. Our relationship was known only by those closest to us.”

“Was she like me?”

His eyes sharpen, voice deepening. “How do you mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You have a question, Persephone. Ask.”

I suck in breath. It doesn’t help me feel any more brave. I’m a mess inside. The man has rattled me. “Was she also your hired companion?”

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