Page 22 of The Queen & the King

This must be a mistake. A dream. A nightmare.

“I said strip,” Adonis growls, moving to stand in front of me again, his mud-brown eyes now almost completely black.

I back away from him, deeper into the living room. “No.” The word is stronger than I expected, and I am surprised by the unrelenting rage that seems to simmer under my skin.

Adonis takes a step forward and lifts his arm, slamming the back of his hand against my cheek hard, forcing me back onto the couch. His gold ring slices my cheek. “You are mine. You will follow my orders.”

I bring my hand to my cheek, protecting it. Thick gold ichor coats my palm. My eyes sting with tears, but I will not let them fall. I will not show him any weakness.

Adonis moves to me and grabs the front of my corset, yanking it hard and ripping the stitches. “I want to see if you are worth the price.”

The fury bubbles more to the surface, roaring within me, and I shove him back hard, making him stumble over the rug.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me,” I snarl, standing and covering myself with the ruined material.

“You will learn to respect me, Persephone.” He narrows his eyes, practically spitting my name like a curse. Adonis looks me over again, and the blood in my veins feels like fire. Beneath my skin, I feel sharp spines, spurred by his words, his leering gaze, and the ichor trickling down my cheek from his hit. Theirpurpose is not to harm me but to protect me and do harm to others.

“I will be sure you are worth the trouble,” Adonis growls. “I will not get on the wrong side of Hades for just anyone. Your mother better be right about you.”

The anger dissipates a little at the sound of his name, and my face relaxes a little, my body humming for him.

Hades. Hades. Hades…

“Hades?” I ask, frowning.

Adonis snarls, “Demeter! I’m leaving!” Adonis storms out of the room, slamming the front door as he leaves. I flop down on the couch, thinking.

“I will not get on the wrong side of Hades for just anyone.”

What could that possibly mean? Well, one thing is for sure: Hades is real, and he has been visiting my dreams. That simple thought makes everything a little lighter.

“What did you do?” my mother hisses, stomping into the room. The serene Goddess of the Harvest is long gone, replaced by the one I’m more familiar with.

I don’t look at her, I can’t. I choose to stay in the daydream of my meadow. Of Hades. My dream man.

“You’ll be lucky if he’s still considering you.”

Considering me?

My brows furrow. “Considering me?” I slowly look up at my mother, unsure of what my expression reveals. “Mother, are you selling me?” I worry that my voice will waver, that she’ll hear some emotion that she will disapprove of, but it doesn’t. It is strong and fierce.

“Selling is such a cheap term, Persephone. I am finding you a match,” she replies, but her furious gaze locks on me.

“Match?”

“Don’t you want to get married? Have a family of your own?” she asks. Her voice changes, going softer. It is a manipulation tactic that I have more than learned to identify quickly.

“Who is Hades?” I ask, and I can tell it takes everything within my mother not to physically recoil.

She grabs my face roughly, her nails digging into the slowly healing cut on my face, making it bleed again. “Where did you hear that despicable name?” she hisses.

I feel that rage again, that fury, and I clench my fists, trying to push it down. “Adonis.”

Mother digs her nails in harder, gold ichor streaming down my face once more. “You willneversay that name again, won’t even think it,” she snarls. “He is a monster, the worst kind of evil.”

I study her face, looking for any deception, but there is none.

Mother slowly relaxes her grasp on my face and steps back, wiping her hand free of my blood. “Go clean yourself up. We won’t speak more of this.”

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