When Zofie entered the apartment, she was smiling, only to falter when she noticed Hades standing in Sybil’s living room.
“My lord!” she exclaimed and bowed quickly.
“You don’t have to do that here, Zofie,” Persephone said.
“But…he is the Lord of the Underworld.”
“We’re all aware,” Hermes said. “Look at him—he’s the only goth in the room.”
Hades glared.
“Since everyone’s here, let’s play a game!” Hermes said.
“What’s the game?” Helen asked. “Poker?”
“No!” Everyone said in unison, eyes shifting to Hades, who glared as if he wished to incinerate them. Persephone could just imagine the amount of work she was going to have to put in later to make up for his suffering.
“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!” Hermes said, he reached over the breakfast bar to the kitchen counter, clasping several bottles of various liquors between his fingers. “With shots!”
“Okay, but I don’t have shot glasses,” Sybil said.
“Then you’re all going to have to pick something to gulp,” Hermes said.
“Oh gods,” Persephone mumbled.
“What’s never have I ever?” Zofie asked.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Hermes said as he sat the bottles on the coffee table. “You make a statement about something you’ve never done, and if anyone has done it, they have to take a shot.”
Everyone filed into the living room. Hermes sat on one side of the couch while Ben had taken up the other—until he noticed Sybil settling on the ground beside Persephone. Then, he abandoned the spot to squeeze beside her. It was awkward to watch, and Persephone averted her eyes, finding Hades staring. He stood across from her, not quite part of the circle they had formed. She wondered if he would find a reason not to play this game—and she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to see how he would respond to every single one of these statements.
She also dreaded it.
“Me first!” Hermes says. “Never have I ever...had sex with Hades.”
Persephone’s gaze was murderous—she knew because she could feel the frustration eating away the glamour she used to dim the color of her irises.
“Hermes,” she gritted his name from between her teeth.
“What?” he whined. “This game is difficult for someone my age. I’ve done everything.”
Then Leuce cleared her throat, and his eyes widened as he realized what he had done. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.”
Persephone liked Leuce, but that did not mean she liked being reminded of her past with Hades. She made a point not to look at Leuce as she drank from a bottle of fireball.
Ben went next. “Never have I ever stalked an ex-girlfriend.”
There was a collective awkwardness that preceded the false-prophet’s statement. Was he trying to prove he wasn’t a creep?
No one drank.
Sybil was next.
“Never Have I Ever...fallen in love at first sight.” It was a jab at Ben, who did not seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care, so confident in his abilities as an oracle, he took a shot.
Next was Helen. “Never have I never…had a threesome.”
To no one’s surprise, Hermes took a shot, but so did Hades and something about it made the color drain from Persephone’s face. Perhaps it was the way he did it—eyes lowered, lashes fanning his cheeks, as if he did not wish to know that she saw him. Still, she tried to rationalize that they had discussed this before. Hades would not apologize for living before her, and she understood that. She expected Hades, God of the Dead, to have had many, varied sexual experiences—and yet she still felt jealous.
Finally, Hades lifted his eyes to hers. They were dark, a hint of fire igniting the irises like a sliver of a moon. It was an expression she knew well—not a warning so much as a plea—I love you, I am with you now. Nothing else matters.
She knew that—believed it with all her heart, but as the game continued, the instances where she was able to take a shot were few and far between—and nothing compared to Hades’.
“Never have I ever...eaten food off of someone’s naked body,” Ben said, but added with a direct look at Sybil. “But I’d like to.”
Hades drank and Persephone wanted to vomit.
“Never have I ever...had sex in the kitchen,” Helen said.
Hades drank.
“Never have I ever had sex in public,” Sybil said.
Hades drank.
“Never have I ever faked an orgasm,” said Helen.
Persephone wasn’t sure what came over her—but at that statement, she tipped her drink back and swallowed a gulp of wine. As she sat the glass down, Hades raised a brow and his eyes darkened. She could feel his energy against her own, demanding. He was eager to have her speak—to taste her skin and confirm she had lied.
She didn’t expect Hades to challenge her in front of everyone.
“If that is true, I will happily rectify the situation.”
“Oh,” Hermes teased. “Someone’s getting fucked tonight.”
“Shut up, Hermes.”
“What? You’re just lucky he didn’t carry you away to the Underworld the moment you lifted that glass.”
It still wasn’t out of the realm of possibility with the way Hades was looking at her. He had questions and he wanted answers.
“Let’s play another game,” Persephone suggested.
“But I like this one,” Hermes whined. “It was just getting good.”
She gave him a scathing look.
“Besides, you know Hades is just making a list of all the ways he wants to f—”
“Enough, Hermes!” Persephone got to her feet and made her way down the hallway to the bathroom. She closed the door and sank against it. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she exhaled—it was a failed attempt to release the strange feeling that had been building inside her. She couldn’t describe it, but it felt thick and heavy.
Then the air stirred, and she tensed, feeling Hades’ body cage her own, his cheek touched hers, his breath tickled her ear as he spoke.
“You had to know your actions would ignite me,” his voice was raw and rough, and it made the bottom of her stomach tighten. His body was rigid, a force barely contained.
“When have I left you wanting?”
She swallowed hard and knew he wanted the truth.
“Will you not answer?”
He lifted his hand to her throat—not squeezing but forcing her gaze to his.
“I’d really have rather not found out about your sexual exploits via a game in front of my friends,” she said.
“So you thought it better to reveal that I had not satisfied you in the same manner?”
Persephone looked away. Hades’ hand was still at her throat, and then he leaned forward, his tongue pressed lightly against her ear.
“Shall I leave no doubt in their minds that I can make you come?”
He lifted her skirt and tore at her lace underwear.
“Hades! We are guests here!”
“Your point?” he asked as he lifted her off the floor, leveraging her weight against the door. His movements were controlled but rough—a peek at the violence awake beneath this skin.