Page 1 of Seeking Hades' Ember

Chapter 1

Hades

I rolled my eyes in frustration. What the hell does this woman want? The first time she visited me in her entire existence was only to tell me that Persephone was not to be mine. Now, she comes to the underworld for a second time, to brag about it. The nerve of the damn woman.

For years I have heard of the ‘wonders’ that this woman has done to the supernatural world as well as the Olympian gods. She was granted the gift of finding the missing piece of every supernatural, and it was working so well, that she decided to expand her prospects into her own world with the gods. In my opinion, everyone was damn well happy before her. Zeus had his whores, Poseidon had his conquests, and I had Persephone. The one thing I ever fought over in this dull, rancid life that I had for my own.

Even though I was the oldest of the three major gods, I chose to be down here. To live in my own world away from Earth, the humans, and the Celestial glory of all the other gods. It was quiet down here when I wanted it to be. Now mostly you can hear screams in the night of those left in Tartarus.

“What do you want, Selene?” I spat out her name with venom. The woman better hurry up; I had better things to do than listen to the shit she has to say. She doesn’t even have her own mate.

“As I said, I’ve come to bring you good news.” She took a few steps forward and a poof of a cloud popped up behind her as she sat down. She laid on it and plucked a grape from a small bowl that had appeared.

My jaw ticked. “What of it? Speak up so you can show yourself out.”

Selene groaned in frustration as she sat back up and dusted off the invisible dirt from her hand. “Fine, you are no fun.” Selene stood up again and started walking up the steps to my throne. The demons beside me began to cower and back away, knowing I wasn’t in the mood to tolerate such insolence.

Once she stood beside me, she leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Your mate has been born!” Selene stood up happily and clapped her hands in excitement. The giddy cheerleader gig was not something I was a fan of. Gripping my glass tightly, I drank the whisky in one shot and put it down lightly on the throne. Servants continued to back away, knowing this was the calm before the storm.

“What. Of. It.” I growled each word individually.

“I just thought you should know! We got off on the wrong foot, and I wanted to make sure you knew so you could search for her. I can even show you who she is now.” She lifted her hand to make a magical portal appear, but I slammed my glass to the floor as I stood up.

“I’ll have NOTHING to do with you and your mate shit.” The castle grounds shook, and the servant demons ran in fear. Selene frowned and waved her hand, making sure I couldn’t see the child that was destined to be my soulmate.

Selene showed no fear because she was protected, protected by most of the gods on Olympus due to most of them have found their mates. I knew my outburst wouldn’t do anything to her, but my temper had grown throughout the years and even the concubines had grown fearful of me. No one had the aura of my Persephone.

Selene walked back down the throne stairs and tutted when I sat back down. “Do what you will Hades. You only get one soul mate.” I gripped my fist in anger, feeling my claws scraping against the palm of my hand. I could love no one more than I could have loved Persephone, of that I was sure.

As Selene neared the exit of the throne room, she grabbed the door and looked back at me. There was sympathy in her eyes, but I dared not look into her eyes any longer as she spoke. “The longer you take to accept that you have a mate to claim, the harder it will be for her to accept you.” With that, Selene walked out the door like she was never there.

20 years later…

Jillian

“Dammit girls, hurry up!” the pungently large man spoke as he continued to prod us like cattle. His name was Teddy Johnson, or ‘master’ as he liked us to call him. “This is getting ridiculous; how long does it take for you filthy whores to shower?!” Another smack was heard with his wooden police stick on the wall of our communal showers.

The new girls that had come in last week. They were scared, beaten, and broken, much like how I was when I arrived here at just nine years old, at least I think I was nine. Before that, I don’t remember much. When I woke up, I had lost all memories of who I was with no clothing or possessions to remind me of my past or where I came from. Just me, sitting in an empty cell with a large t-shirt that said, “Cheaters Anonymous, Gentleman’s Club.”

I was the youngest one of the entire group of women and did a lot of physical labor. Cleaning the cells, making food that I couldn’t eat, making beds that had been used in ways a nine-year-old should know nothing about.

From that age on, I was just a slave to Master. The large man with a gut that overflows the buckle of his pants. He is overweight, smells, and has a ridiculous bow tie he likes to wear on work nights and has a ridiculous fascination with me and hasn’t sold me to the highest bidder just yet. I keep wondering when he is going to finally get rid of me because I am not the most obedient slave he would want.

There were a few times he put me up on the auction stand in the back of his strip club. The area was for strict VIP members that wanted a taste of the merchandise on the poles. The people that lived outside the club didn’t know the difference. They thought it was a regular strip club with regular people. Even the town cops would come in when they were off duty to gawk at the girls.

Little did they know they were all stolen from their homes, their families, and their lives.

When I was up on the stand to be sold, I always threw a fit. I acted rabid, biting when he tried to touch me, slapping his hand away. He loved to slap, hit and punch my body when the buyers weren’t around. He often says that my skin was my best feature, with his bloody red handprints on it. My skin was alabaster white, mainly because I hadn’t seen the sun in God knows how long. My hair was long, blonde with a hit of red. The perfect strawberry blonde highlighted girl. Yes, girl. I looked no older than fifteen.

Since I was so young arriving at the club, I never got a proper meal. I was lucky to get the pizza crusts off the patrons’ plates as they left at 5 a.m. every morning. If I was lucky, someone left a fry our two along with half of a hamburger. Dancers always got a bit more food than me, because Master said he had to keep their tits ‘perky.’

I’m not sure what my true height would have been if I got the proper nutrition, but I’m close to 5’2” and far too skinny with breasts that finally came in the past year. Now, he has really been pushing me to be sold. Saying I’m the oldest virgin he has ever kept at twenty. “You’ll fetch a pretty penny,” he would say.

“Time’s up! Get out!” The water turned cold and all of us girls huddled together as we went back into the large common cell that held us. There were cots on the floor. Everything was completely minimal, no personal effects, a small blanket, and barely-there stripper attire or waitressing uniforms.

Since I was considered the senior, I helped the new girls get ready. Some were crying, some praying. I didn’t dare tell them I stopped praying five years ago because no help was going to come. Now, I was just in survival mode and helping those cope with what cards that we have been dealt with.

Some nights I would sit with the new girls, petting their hair, and singing some sort of lullaby. If I didn’t, their cries would call for unwanted attention which could lead to beatings, rape and other sadistic things.

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