Page 28 of His in the Dark

When Hades realizes I’m not going to say another word, his eyes go black. A deep void of power that lies in the depths of his iris. It consumes me as I stare back. As if seeing through him.

It is clear he thinks he’s hiding his feelings from me. The desire and the need to have his hands on me. It is clear what he wants of me.

I do not know him. I do not know how he lives. I do not know how the Underworld was before I was brought here.

But Idoknow that the small twitches in his expression are a mirror of his mind.

He releases my throat, and I gasp in a breath. The lack of his palm on my throat feels like an immediate loss. I reach up and touch the place his fingers were.

My heart beats fast and hard. His footsteps retreat from me, and I hold my breath again, my mind filling with questions. Willhe turn around and come back? Will he move me to the bed? Will he bend me over it, locked in his chains?

Will he lose his patience?

Most importantly the question riddles in the back of my mind:Do I want him to?

There’s a push and pull within me that’s far too dangerous. Like playing with fire. But the bedroom door opens, and then slams, and there is silence all around me once more.

I’m alone. Nothing. I make myself nothing.

I remain still, all my senses tuned to the door. I no longer hear Hades’s footsteps. He has not called out to anyone. He does not seem to be waiting at the door, ready to come back in for me.

After a minute or two, I let my shoulders slump. I massage the rest of the heat from Hades’s palm out of my neck.

I regret it once it’s gone.

The windows that Hades threw wide open have been closed part of the way. There’s enough space to let in the blustery air, and it keeps the room cold. The room is dark as well, though I can’t tell if that’s because I am losing hope or because they are meant to be dark.

It’s black outside the windows as well. Late at night. It seemed like Hades was gone for weeks, but if I do my best to remember, there was daylight, and then darkness.

Should I keep track of the days and the nights? A prisoner… I’ve conceded that I am in fact a prisoner.

My muscles ache and my bones crack as I get up from the rug and move around the room, my legs shaking with weakness. I cannot find anything to make a record of the days.

I pause at the table and dig my fingernail into it until it makes a scratch.

While I wait to gather my strength and go back to the rug, the scratch vanishes as if it were never there.

It has been two days at least. Perhaps three. That’s what tonight’s darkness tells me. I will do my best to remember tomorrow, and the day after that, though I do not want to think far beyond another few days.

I could save you from your fate.

“What fate?” I murmur the question I had for Hades at the unsuspecting table. “You have made this my fate. You have made me a prisoner.”

The table does not answer. I go back to the rug and sit, curling into a ball and holding myself as tightly as I can.

I could save you from your fate.

Hades’s words repeat in my mind. No matter how many times I dismiss them, they repeat again and again. Chills follow the promise.

What does he know of my fate? And how did he know of my powers?

I hunch over my bent knees, resting my chin there. It’s so cold, and my stomach is hollow from the lack of food. I’ve only slept a little, and I can’t afford to fall asleep again. I’ll wake up next to Hades, and I won’t do that.

It is shocking that my mother and father haven’t sent someone. They cannot come themselves. The realms aren’t open for all to enter, even the Gods, but surely?—

Surely they should have sentsomeoneby now. Some word. Some acknowledgement that they know I am missing and are planning a rescue. If they even know who took me. My heart squeezes at the thought that they may not even know I was taken. They may think I’ve left of my own accord.

No, no, I refuse the thought. My mother knows I’d never leave her side. Not without telling her. Not without a goodbye.

---