Hades makes his way back over to me, a half-smile on his face. Oh, he understands. He understands. My heart cracks open with relief. I know he’s a bad man. I know he doesn’t care about me and never will. That doesn’t mean he’s incapable of all empathy. He must see in my face how much I need this. My thoughts become more tangled, more knotted with every step he takes.
He puts a hand on the top of my head, and I let my eyes flutter closed. A comforting touch. I thought I’d never feel a comforting touch again. Tears come free of my eyelids.
His thumb rubs over my temple, smoothing back my hair. I need this. I need this so much. I clench my teeth to keep my chin from quivering, because I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want—
Hades digs his hand into the back of my hair, twists his fingers in hard, and tilts my face up to his. It pulls a gasp from my mouth. I’ve never seen a harder, more narrowed set to his eyes, not even when he was killing Decker.
“We’re not going to do this.” Nothing about him is loud, which makes his voice sound far deadlier. This is a man who doesn’t have to shout to keep people in line. “I’m not going to pet you and indulge you at every doorway. You need to know what happens? You already know what’s going to happen, sweet thing. You’ll do anything I say, and maybe, maybe, I’ll let you live. But let’s get to the truth at the very heart of this, the one you keep flirting with and trying to get me to deny. If I want you to die, you’ll die. You belong to me now.”
I stare, open-mouthed, caught halfway between abject terror and disbelief at how beautiful he can look when he’s being so mean.
Hades gives my hair a shake, and I cry out at the pain.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” My voice is high, pained, and he doesn’t care.
“That’s not good enough, precious. Tell me what it is you understand.”
“That I—” I suck in a deep breath, hoping it’ll give me enough momentum to get the words out. “—I belong to you now.”
“Again.” He pulls my hair, harder, yanking my head back. Hades leans his head down until his lips are an inch away from my pulse. He could bite me now, break the skin, and let me bleed out on the floor. All I feel is his breath as he exhales, and then he stands tall. “I said again. How many times do we need to go over this? Or are you truly begging for punishment? I promise you, Persephone, I can make it so you’ll never, ever forget what I’ve told you.”
“I belong to you now.” This time, my voice is low and frantic.
“I can’t hear you.”
“I belong to you now!” His hand digs in, and the pain of my scalp blooms into something sharper, all-encompassing. “I belong to you now! I belong to you now! I belong to you now, please! I belong to you now!” I scream the words, sob them. Hades pulls my hair upright, toward the ceiling, and lets me fall.
My knees hit the floor with a bruising blow, and I put my hands to the back of my head, expecting to feel blood. A hand cups my chin and pulls me up to my feet. His hand. I can’t catch my breath. His hand steadies me. Something else does too—Conor, pushing against me. Almost like he’s pushing me up. The dog makes a low noise, and for the life of me, I can’t tell if he’s comforting me or trying to get me back on my feet to do Hades’ bidding. Conor presses his nose against the crook of my arm, the rest of him warm and solid. Everything is upside down. I should not feel any safer here with Conor at my side. But I do.
Hades eyes trace my face, following my tears down to my chin.
“Excellent,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how much I loved that.”
“You’re sick.” I shouldn’t say it, not if I want to keep breathing, but the lingering pain overrides what’s left of my good judgment. “Disgusting. Vile—”
“That’s it,” he prompts.
“You’re a terrible man!” I shout.
“Well, yes.”
“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.” The last tears fall and dry on my cheeks. The air here is not still or stuffy, despite the lack of windows. It’s always moving, always whispering against my skin. “I hate you.”
“Good.” Hades pats my head again, a light in his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. What the hell? “I intend to strip you down to the very core of you, Persephone, and make you mine in every possible way. But this bullshit of yours, these little fits of terror over things like doors? Save them.”
“Save them?” I cross my arms over my chest to hide the shake in my hands. “Save them for what? This is all very, very bad.” My throat tightens with the urge to cry, so I clear it roughly.
“Save your pretty fear for when I have you naked over my knee or tied spread-eagle on my bed.” He swipes his thumb across the remnants of my tears, the salt tracks that seem to be a constant fixture on my face now. “That’s when I want it. Don’t waste it on things like entering a room. You’ll exhaust yourself, and that will limit the amount I can enjoy you. That’s not what I want. Say it one more time, so I know you understand.”
His words echo in my brain—naked over my knee, spread-eagle on my bed—and I imagine stuffing them into a closet and shutting the door. It’s the only way I can make myself say it. Because I don’t belong to him. I’ll never belong to him, not in my heart.
“I belong to you now,” I repeat, voice level.
“That’s right.” He whistles. “Conor, go in.”
The door swings open at his touch like it was waiting for him to open it, and Hades sweeps one hand around my back and pushes me into the room. Conor shoots past us and disappears down one hallway. One of my bare toes catches on the smooth floor, and I stumble, but this time there’s nobody to catch me. He’s behind me, and there’s no way for anyone to—
A hand flies out just as I catch my balance, and I take it like it’s the last life preserver on a sinking ship.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” The gratitude dies on my lips as I straighten up, the new information falling into place.
Someone reached out to catch me.
Someone has been inside this room the whole time, hearing what happened, hearing me scream.
I lift my chin and look, only because I can’t stand the wait any longer.
Five women in black uniforms, their hair combed back in sleek buns, wait in a semicircle in the entryway to the most enormous room—no, it must actually be a set of rooms, because this is no bedroom, or a living room. To call it a living room seems like a ridiculous understatement. Thick pillars separate an enormous sunken sitting area from the rest of the room. It looks ancient and modern at the same time, like you could curl up at the base of it and stare into a screen or sit around the edges and attend a performance. My heart zigzags frantically at the thought of what kind of performance that would be. Knowing what I know of Hades, it could be....
The blood drains out of my cheeks, and I take a step back toward Hades. He nudges me forward with a sharp exhale. I’ve annoyed him again.
One of the women—the one who put out her hand to break my fall—looks to be in her forties, with silver hair and red lipstick that makes me feel utterly naked in its perfection. I look ridiculous, here in this room. A linen dress, handmade for me by an old lady my mother pays by the season? I want it off. If I could have anything else to wear, I’d wear it.