Page 24 of His in the Dark

For some time in my sleep, the feeling of being with a God in bed is different. Something I’ve never experienced, something hot and heady. A sensation of warmth and even power flows through me as the dreams turn vivid and I swear a pleasure I cannot place hovers slightly over my sensitized skin.

Never in my existence have I felt such … sensations. Like my surroundings, it’s entirely peculiar and tempting in a way that I’ve not experienced before.

Some time later, I wake upwarm and flushedbecause I’ve rolled closer to Hades in my sleep. He is solid beside me. Hisbody hot and offering a pleasure I’ve taken for granted all my life. His scent wrapped around me, seductive and masculine. Anger at the unconscious act comes quickly enough.

It doesn’t take long before I realize he’s not breathing slowly and evenly, the way he might if he was dreaming.

With a start, I feel his eyes on me and I look up defiantly to meet his gaze.

He peers down at me, and Iknowthe look in his eyes. It’s curiosity and lust. It’s what drew me to his presence in the shadows. My breath hitches.

“You’re a bastard,” I snarl to avoid acknowledging anything else I feel.

Touch me. I have to bite back the words to keep them in my mouth.

I shove at him, but I only succeed in pushing myself away. There isn’t enough space between us. The reality of being a prisoner—beingheld—beingtakenfloods my mind, filling my lungs with panic and a need to escape that’s more animal than human. It’s nothing like the Gods must feel, and I want to run from myself as badly as I want to run from Hades.

Go,my mind says.Get away. Fight.

That feeling spills through me as heat in my chest and cold in my feet and a strange panic in my arms and legs. I cannot leave. I cannot get up and leave. The chains will never let me go, and I want to be out of its hold. I want to be free.

I pull against the chains on instinct and scream out my rage into the dark and when I look back down at him, Hades, the Unseen, has left me once again, taking the blanket with him.

HADES

With Minox at my side, nearly a shadow of myself, we stride down the hall. Torches burn on the walls, casting flickering patterns of light and shadow on the rough stone floor beneath our feet.

Ages of paths have carved themselves into the worn floor. I’ve travelled this path in all of the times, the hardships and wars, the depths of betrayal and the rise of power. It is my home and my sanctuary and yet I feel that it is not enough. That it is a path I’ve not yet travelled.

We walk in relative silence. The clicking of our footsteps echoes in the quiet of the Underworld. It is late, and my realm has settled around me. An uncomfortability stirs in the depths of me, churning with anticipation of what’s to come with my Persephone.

Her resistance was anticipated and yet the frustration is far more prevalent. To lie beside her and not enjoy her scent, her warmth, her touch… it is torture and it is futile. If only she would realize this I would not have to suffer and neither would she. My patience does not exist when it comes to her. Her arrival has affected far more than just my selfish thoughts.

It is the quiet that’s different. These halls have not been peaceful as of late. The calm that pervades the hallway now is almost eerie in its contrast. Even the flutter of the flames in the sconces whip loudly through the air.

I’ve become too attuned to every sound Persephone makes. All the noises that would have faded out of my notice are prominent. Her screams were an unwelcome disturbance to others though. Others far too close to the God of Thunder.

“The witch was able to cast the spell?”

Minox inclines his head. “Yes, my Lord. No one will hear her screams any longer.”

I give him a terse nod, unsettled from his tone. I’ve avoided my room all day to focus on the tasks at hand and be present for the questing souls, but that doesn’t mean I have avoided Persephone’s screams. At times, I think I can hear them even when it is impossible. Her sheer determination is a match for my own will, but she will bend to mine. She must.

“Can you hear them now?” I question him as she cries out profanity from the distance above us. Attempting spells of wrath that are useless. She must know this and yet her rage has not subsided. I fear it only grows with a simmer of hatred that was not there the day before.

“No, my Lord,” he answers and there’s a tone he takes as he stares straight ahead avoiding my gaze that I don’t care for.

It is no one’s business how I have acquired my Queen.

It’s not uncommon for souls to be shocked and grief-stricken when they arrive in the Underworld, but Persephone is not like them. She burns with hatred and there are whispers of the feminine screams from my chambers.

The sensation ofcaringabout a spell working to its intended effect—that is perhaps more unsettling than all the rest. Still, it’s an unholy mix in my gut.

They may not be able to hear her, but I can. I both revel in the fact that she’s here now, and loathe that she screams in agony. I should know the sound of each breath she takes. I should know the force of each sob that tears from her throat. I should know the rhythm of her heartbeat at every second.

Nothing should be kept hidden from me. Nothingwillbe kept hidden from me. This is my realm, and she is mine to do with as I please.

Regardless of the whispers and the fear and judgement from those under my control.

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