Page 64 of Seduced

“No, my brother. His voice in my head, saying hateful, horrible things to me, every minute of every day, no matter if I’m awake or asleep. Threatening me with starvation or kneeling on the rice, or…”

“Stop.” Rania’s hand was on her shoulder, its gentle weight anchoring her to reality. “Don’t think of that any more. There is food here, and not a grain of rice. You are quite safe.”

“From those two. But what about everything else?”

“Everything else,” Rania said, spreading out her arm dramatically, “is life. You are never quite safe from life, little one. But that is the beauty of it too.”

“You know that we are the exact same age, right?” Poppy said.

“I do,” Rania replied. “But I feel so much more worldly and important than you. Besides, you are so much shorter.”

“Why, thank you,” Poppy smiled.

And that was when they both realized just how good of friends they had become.

And then the door burst open and Hades came running in, his hair flying, his coat open, looking like all kinds of a malevolent Greek god hell-bent on revenge.

“Where is she?” he thundered. “What’s happened?”

His eyes found Poppy, and their stormy blue depths were transformed by an emotion hard and frightening. His voice dropped so low she could barely hear it.

It was trembling, broken.

“Poppy. What’s wrong?” he almost stuttered, looking down at her. “Did you get hurt last night? Did…Did I hurt you?”

He stood there, towering above her, shaking, completely shaking.

And for the first time since she had met him, Poppy thought that she might finally have a small glimpse into the enigma that was the Slavic prince of the Underworld.

Hades knelt in front of her, long, black strands of hair swishing down his jaw.

“Have I hurt you, Miss Wyatt? Answer me, please.”

And that was when Poppy realized it: the prince of the Underworld positively, absolutely hated himself.

Alexei

He could have sat there with Nikolaos all day, if he had his own way.

“Tell me what happened,” Nikolaos asked him at length, after they had spent at least ten hours eating, talking about theology and philosophy, drinking red claret and petting the bloody cats. “What brought on this existential crisis, my lord? It isn’t like you.”

“I have only just discovered,” Alexei replied, “that everyone calls me Hades behind my back.”

“Surely not only just. I knew that before I knew you,” Nikolaos smirked.

Alexei swallowed his distaste.

“I just discovered why, I mean,” he explained. “Apparently, I make people want to die.”

The declaration was so profound that Nikolaos let go of both his wineglass and the cat that had sat itself on his lap.

“It’s not you,” Nikolaos said kindly. “It’s the club.”

“Oh, well, that’s only slightly better.”

“Is it?”

“What would you have me do?” Alexei asked, and for once, he was not being sarcastic. He honestly did not know what to do. “Should I just shut down the club, and leave the entire staff to starve on the streets? The servants, the guards, the musicians, the dancers…? Not to mention, all those who use it, like yourself, to hide in and organize their revolutions?”

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