Page 89 of Hades and Persephone: Crown of Souls

“You think Demeter lacks power?”

“Well—” I stutter, because she is. Her scream is so vicious, it can burst the very organs that offer humanity life. “I mean, I know she is powerful. But she is no Leviathan.”

“No.” Hades nods again, darkly. “She is not.”

I shiver. “You, Zeus, and Poseidon are called the Big Three.”

“Yes.”

“I, like the rest of modern humanity, has always thought it was because of how—what—you rule.” I pause, waiting for him to nod. Agree.Anything. He doesn’t. I huff and set on again. “I thought it was because the three of you rule over realms unto your own. Zeus rules Olympus, Poseidon the Seas, and you the Underworld.”

When I pause again, Hades commands roughly, “Go on.”

I swallow hard and audibly. When I wet my lips again, it’s nervous. Hades devours the motion with a hunger that ripples like a physical touch over every inch of my skin.

His hands remain at his sides.

“That’s not the whole reason you’re seen as the Big Three, is it?”

“No.”

My inhale is sharp as a blade. There is a tremble awakening in the core of me, as though I am only just now becoming aware of the colossal reality ofwhatI stand before.WhoI stand before.

Who I am in love with.

My human mind had put restraints on the truth of what it means to be a God.

To be one of the Big Three.

The flesh of the man he wears has dulled the truth of what I face and made it wholly easier to digest.

Now, that beautifully crafted reality is shattering under the stress fractures of the truth.

“You’re going to make me say it.”

“I want to know if you’ve come to the truth.”

Oh, I think I’ve come to the truth, all right. It’s connected with my belly like a wrecking ball, slamming into me with the vicious weight of a tsunami wave.

I shiver, even as I stand in the circle of a deadly heat.

I ask, “What is Zeus’ Gods’ Form?”

Hades smirks, looking very much like the Devil I suspect he is. “He is what modern humanity describes as an angel. He rules on his throne high in the sky, a being of thunder and violence sheathed under the guise of impossible beauty. White feathered wings lined in the faintest hue of gold burst from his back, so big they dust the floor when he walks. His flesh becomes golden, as though dusted with a fine powder of lightning.” His lip curls. “To humanity, he is a sight so beautiful, they are brought to their knees.”

“And you?” This time, I truly do wheeze.

Oh, yes. His smirk is most definitely devilish.

“I bring them to their knees for a wholly other reason, little goddess.”

I drag my eyes over the length of him, before connecting with the flames that rage and roar behind his eyes once again. Every breath I breathe feels stolen. Every inch of my skin hums with awareness. Even my fingertips tingle with the need to reach out and touch him. To feel him.

To explore what liesbeneath.

The hunger in my core twists violently, stealing a stolen breath. His eyes track my every little movement, drinking me in as I sink my teeth into my lip. I’m buying myself another moment of silence to contemplate the reality of my want. The consequences I may face if I ask for what I want.

I want to see him.

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