Page 51 of Seduced

“Yes, exactly like what I did,” he said. “Do you know that you didn’t once fight me or my men? You barely spoke one word, Wyatt! It was the most frustrating, most horrible thing. It near scared the life out of me. Even I, monster that I am, had expected some kind of resistance, some sort of…But with you, nothing. It was as if you weren’t there, it was…I nearly lost my mind, Persephone. What is wrong with her, I thought, that she will not fight?”

‘What is wrong with her?’

His words cut her as if with a knife.

“I have learned not to,” she murmured, stubbornly.

“I know that now.”

Hades’ voice was uncharacteristically soft as he went down on his knee again. Why did he keep doing that? It was so strange; it made her feel as if she were floating. He lifted his eyes to hers, and there was genuine emotion in them for the first time.

And the emotion was pure, unadulterated fear.

“I know,” he repeated. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Promise me now that you will do your best to unlearn that, and to learn to fight. To defend yourself.”

“Oh,” she nodded. She knew all about learning. “I shall learn whatever you wish. I am good at that. Do you have a chapel in the Underworld?”

“What?” He looked affronted at the question—possibly even insulted.

“Or shall you make me kneel on the rice in this chamber?”

Hades’ face went white so abruptly, she bent down to catch him, for she was sure he was about to faint. But he didn’t. He swallowed once, twice, then shook his head, as if to clear it.

“No, listen, there will be no rice, all right?”

He climbed to his feet again, sighing shakily.

“I will simply teach you, like this. Tell me to stop whenever you feel tired, or uncomfortable, or…when you are no longer enjoying yourself.”

Enjoying myself?

She would laugh if she were not so confused right now. She had no idea how to interpret what was happening. Hades’ behavior made absolutely no sense, as did his words.

Enjoying herself indeed.

Hell might just as well freeze over.

fourteen

Poppy

He began by teaching her what he called ‘hand-to-hand combat’, which he said was essential when one wanted to defend oneself. Or to fight back.

Is that not a sin? Fighting back?

She almost said the words out loud, but his face was like granite, hard, still, cold. And white. He looked breathless and bloodless as he instructed her, and said nothing, except for uttering strangled oaths at regular intervals whenever their fingers brushed.

Poppy kept her thoughts to herself, and tried to focus on the movements of the training, which demanded coordination and concentration, as if they were the movements of a dance.

He taught her how to move her feet first of all, quickly and silently, and how to balance her weight correctly so that when she found an opening to attack, she wouldn’t stumble and fall.

“Bend your arm backwards,” Hades instructed, pretending that he was twisting her arm behind her back as an attacker would, “and apply pressure with your elbow. Yes, exactly like that.”

She did it, ‘exactly like that’, and pounded Hades right in the chest. It felt as if she were pushing her elbow inside a marble wall, so hard was his chest. He coughed, fighting for breath.

“Again,” he gasped. “’S was perfect. Now raise your other hand and claw at my eyes.”

“At your…?”

---