Page 85 of Shattered & Returned

Her gaze flickered down, catching my bulging erection. A sharp inhale. The rose stem trembled in her grip.

“I—I should go,” she stammered. “Mother warned me about strangers.”

“We’re far past that, sweetness,” I purred, gesturing between us. My voice was silky, laced with dark promise.

She tilted her chin up. “We’re still strangers,” she insisted. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Hades.”

Her beautiful gray eyes went round. “ThatHades?”

A flicker of irritation coiled in my chest, and I fought back a growl of displeasure. Of course, my despicable brothers had spun their lies, painting me as the villain of Olympus.

I took my time with soft words, deliberate charm, until her wariness eased. And that day, I claimed my reward: a kiss.Not the bruising, possessive one I craved, but a whisper of lips against mine, feather light. Even that was enough to set my black soul on fire.

She swore to keep our meetings secret. And so it began. First, her resistance crumbed, then she sought me as fiercely as I wanted her. Until I took her, and there was no path back to the sunlit world she knew.

“I hate you,” she said, tears in her eyes, when she realized what she’d done, and what we’d done.

The same hatred now darkened Bloom’s eyes, the same devastatingly beautiful eyes that had ensnared me an eon ago. Only she didn’t remember.

It had to be Apollo, that fucking culprit who planted doubts and stoked her fury against me in every cursed lifetime. He’d coveted the virgin goddess from the start and resented it when she chose me instead. Now that she was cursed to be a mortal, he thought he finally stood a chance. That this time, he could win her and claim her.

My cold, furious stare cut to him. There he stood at her side, smirking provocatively, wearing his ridiculous mortal disguise and calling himself a stupid name:Sebastian.

I swallowed the fury thickening in my throat. If her hatred could spark even a flicker of memory, I’d let it carve into me a thousand times over. I’d tear open the same scarred wound again and again if it meant sheremembered.

Because that was the only way to break the curse.

A goddess reborn as mortal, doomed to die before her twentieth year—cycle after cycle, never escaping. She had to recall the truth herself, had toknowwhat had started this. No one could tell her. Not even my enemies. The blood vows bound us all.

She was brave this time. She was hunting for answers, unafraid of the terrible truth and the darkness it would bring.

Apollo, ever the fool, had no idea he was playing his part perfectly when he showed her that first image. I’dlethim break into my vault. Let him steal that single photograph, so he could—while I wasn’t allowed to—lead her to the rest, the gruesome collection I’d gathered over lifetimes. She needed to see. Needed to understand. Needed to be prepared.

I wanted to spare her the horror, but coddling her would only get her killed. Again.

Every past life, I had tried to save her. Every time, I failed. Now, she had to save herself. Saveus.

The stakes had never been higher.

If she failed this life, if her last breath left her in my arms, she might not return. The curse would claim her forever. I would break after losing her for good. And our enemies would finally win.

So she had to remember.

Persephone.

Goddess of Spring. Queen of the Underworld. My wife. My eternity.

I am Hades, God of Death, and I knew no fear until the day my queen was cursed. Until I watched her first mortal life flicker out like a candleflame in the darkest night.

Chapter

Thirty

Bloom

Haunting and Hellhound

---