A Touch of Chaos (26 page)

She summoned her magic, calling to the twisted limbs of the oak the dragon was cradled within. They lengthened and crawled, winding slowly around the slithering serpent until, all at once, the branches closed around it, coiling tight around its deadly mouth. Still it managed a muffled roar as it lurched violently beneath the bindings, its neck now bright white with fire.

Persephone looked at Hermes.

“Get the fleece!” she ordered just as Ares appeared before her, striking her with the face of his shield. The blow made her feel like her entire body had been snapped in two and sent her flying. When she hit the ground, she ceased to breathe, landing in the field, striking the golden spears left behind as she rolled. When she came to a stop, she inhaled violently, healing her broken body as she got to her feet, pain still lancing through her.

Ares came for her again, but this time, his blow was stopped by Hades with a shield that seemed to be made of shadow, only it was solid. The impact of Ares's attack sent Hades sliding back a few feet. Their weapons clashed again, and Persephone's vines shot from the ground, gripping Ares's arms and his spear, but they snapped under his great strength.

“I got it, Sephy! Let's go!” Hermes yelled.

Her head whipped to the side to see Hermes running with the fleece, and then Ares teleported. Hades and Persephone followed but Ares arrived faster, striking Hermes as he appeared and sending him flying across the island. Hades attacked from above with the intention of slamming his shield down on Ares, but
the god teleported behind Hades and drove his spear into his back. Another jerk, and it went through his chest.

Persephone screamed as Hades fell to his knees.

Ares shoved his foot against him, pulling out his spear as Hades hit the ground, following with a kick to the side that sent him onto his back, finishing with a final blow to his existing wound.

It had all happened so fast, Persephone had no time to act—to help her husband. Now she stood opposite them, watching as Ares released his spear, leaving Hades pinned to the ground. Then he turned and picked up Hades's bident.

“There is nothing more victorious than taking up the weapon of the god you have defeated,” the God of War said, twisting the weapon in his hand.

Persephone's heart raced, but so did her rage. Her gaze darted to Hades, whose head was turned toward her. His eyes usually held some kind of light—a hint of the life that burned within him—but it was gone.

Her gaze returned to Ares.

“You are despicable,” Persephone spat. The ground beneath her feet began to quake.

If Ares noticed, he did not seem to care. “This is war, little goddess,” he said. “Now, let's see how you fight.”

Little goddess.

That name only made her more furious.

He took a few steps and then came toward her at a run, thrusting Hades's bident at her only to drop it and his shield as a branch from his elm stabbed through his back and out of his chest.

Persephone flinched as blood from Ares's mouth
sprayed her face, but she held his gaze, his eyes wide with shock. The only sounds were his choked breathing and the steady spill of his blood as it pooled on the ground.

She considered saying something, but she felt like this all spoke for itself. Ares had become overconfident, and that had made him reckless.

She bent and picked up Hades's bident. It was heavy, a grounding weight. With a final, hate-filled look at Ares, she went to her husband.

“Hades!” She hurried to his side, dropping the bident and pulling Ares's spear free before falling to her knees beside him. Tears welled in her eyes and her throat went dry when he didn't respond. “Hades,” she said again, taking his face between her hands.

His lashes fluttered, and then he opened his eyes. When he saw her, he smiled and she wept, suddenly overwhelmed. She bent and pressed her forehead to his and then her lips, pulling back to meet his gaze, but his eyes were closed again.

“Hades,” Persephone said. “Hades!”

She yanked up his shirt. The wound to his chest had not healed, and the one on his side was far worse, oozing blood and pus.

“No.”

She placed her hands over each, trying to mend them with her own magic, but nothing happened.

Something was wrong. Was the infection preventing him from healing?

“Fuck!” she screamed. She had to find Hermes, but just as she got to her feet, she caught sight of him in the distance. He was running as fast as he could, arms
and legs pumping, his cheeks puffing as he breathed, the Golden Fleece gleaming in his hands.

“I got it, Sephy! I'm coming—ah!”

She watched as the god lost his footing and tripped, falling face-first on the ground.

She teleported to him.

“Come on, Hermes,” she said, and when he took her offered hand, she returned to Hades's side.

“Oh fuck,” said Hermes. “What happened?”

“He isn't healing at all now,” she said, spreading the fleece over Hades. “Is this how it works?”

“I think so,” Hermes said. “That is how I was able to heal when Ares tossed me across the island. Thank fuck it landed with me.”

They waited and Persephone smoothed her hands over the fleece, her gaze falling on Hades's face. Her eyes welled with thick tears once more.

“Hades,” she whispered. “Please.” When he didn't move, she chose anger. “You said you wouldn't leave my side. You swore an
oath
.” And then she begged, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Please, I will do anything. Just don't leave me.”

She felt him move, and then his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Careful with your offer, darling,” he said. “I might just ask for anything.”

She started to cry harder and then lifted her head and kissed him, reveling in the feel of his breath on her lips.

Then she sat back and dragged the Golden Fleece off him, revealing his perfectly healed wounds.

Hades sat up, his gaze shifting to the still-bloodied
tree Persephone had used as a weapon against Ares. The God of War had fled just as Hecate had predicted.

“Let's heal Harmonia,” Persephone said.

This time, it was her magic that surrounded them and carried them home to the Underworld.

Hades followed Persephone into the queen's suite where Harmonia lay near death, clinging to life by a frayed thread. He had sensed the change in her before they left but hoped the Fates would let her live for as long as possible. They did not like when their chosen allotment and destiny were disrupted, which was likely why she'd held on this long, but even they would not stop a thread from snapping if the soul decided it was time.

It was the only mercy they ever granted.

He did not approach the bed with Persephone, choosing to stand apart from the others, watching as Sybil, Leuce, and Aphrodite shooed Opal off the bed and pulled the blankets back, allowing Persephone to lay the Golden Fleece over Harmonia. They all silently waited for its power to take effect.

Hades had been able to feel it, a warmth that seeped deep into his skin. In truth, he felt better than he ever
had, even before his imprisonment in the labyrinth. He hoped the same would be true for Harmonia.

“She's taking deeper breaths,” Sybil said, voice rising with hope. She leaned over her, smoothing her hair. “Harmonia, we love you. So much.”

The color returned to Harmonia's face and lips, and then she stirred, and suddenly, everyone burst into tears.

When Harmonia opened her eyes, she frowned. “Why is everyone crying?”

Her question was followed by a round of harder tears and laughter and Opal yipping and chasing her tail.

Hades's gaze shifted to Hecate as the goddess approached.

“The fleece was not easy to obtain, was it?” she asked.

“I did not expect it to be easy,” said Hades. “But I have to admit, I thought Ares would be more moved by Aphrodite's plight.”

“Few among the gods have any love for Ares and his violence,” said Hecate. “He likely saw an opportunity to gain his father's favor.”

And in the process, he'd sacrificed the friendship of the only goddess who had ever offered him kindness.

“I do not know how he will retaliate,” said Hades. “It was Persephone who ended his bloodlust.”

“He will likely wait for the battlefield,” said Hecate. “He will want her distracted, given that he has lost to her one-on-one.”

Though he had already targeted her during battle before.

“Aphrodite will be devastated,” Hades said in a low voice.

“She will,” said Hecate. “But it will give way to her
rage, and that is the level of power we need right now.” They exchanged a look. “It will not be long now,” she said. “Once the first blow is struck before mankind, the war for dominion over Earth begins.”

That was what Zeus and his loyalists failed to understand. This was not just another attempt to overthrow the King of the Gods. It had become more than a fight for a single throne. It was a fight for every throne on Olympus, a fight for worship from a population that had been shown the neglect of the gods, and Hades feared that by the time they realized it, it would be too late.

“Enjoy tonight,” said Hecate. “It may be the last you have alone for quite some time.”

She left his side, and Persephone approached, her eyes swallowed by darkness. Her face was flushed, and he could feel that same warmth in the pit of his stomach.

They left, teleporting to their chamber.

Their gazes held, and so did the distance between them.

Hades could feel the tension building. It tightened every muscle in his body and thickened his cock.

“I have no intention to rest, no desire to sleep,” he said. “I want to spend every second making up for each day I was absent from you.”

His words were met with a pleasing shiver. It made her nipples hard beneath her shirt.

“Then why are you wasting precious time talking?”

His lips twitched.

Spoken like a true queen.

And then there was suddenly no space between them as they came together, their mouths colliding. Hades drove her back into the post of the bed, gripping her
hard as he ground into her, the friction sending a dizzying thrill straight to his head.

He smoothed his hands over her ass and then dragged her up his body, and as she twined her legs around his waist, he carried her to bed where he kissed her harder and deeper, until his lungs burned from drowning in her.

Only then did he move on, trailing his lips along her jaw and neck, pulling up her shirt for access to her breasts, which he lavished with his tongue while she raked her fingers through his hair until it was free from its tie.

As he made his way down her stomach, Persephone started to shimmy out of her jeans, and Hades chuckled.

“Always eager,” he muttered as he helped, stripping the jeans from her legs.

He took a moment to appreciate the way she looked before him—body flushed and open, her sex already wet, soon to be full of his come.

“Hades,” Persephone whispered his name, a note of worry in her tone.

He met her gaze, and he thought that she had never looked more beautiful—more
his
. The vibrant green of her eyes was swallowed by the darkness of her pupils, filled with a desire for him. Her lips were swollen from their kiss, her skin marked by his mouth.

“I want you to feel me inside you for weeks after this night,” he said. “When you are on the battlefield, this is what you will fight for, the pleasure of being beneath me again.”

Her eyes narrowed. He could not tell if she liked his words, but then she sat up and her mouth was level with his cock, which pressed, thick and heavy, against the rough material of his pants.

“And what will you fight for, King of the Underworld?” she asked.

Despite the layer between them, he could feel the warmth of her breath on him, and it made him regret that he was still clothed.

He stared down at her, trying to imagine how he must look right now. He felt rigid, and his energy was angry and a little violent, a storm that made the air between them crackle.

She unbuttoned his pants and took out his cock, handling it as if it belonged to her—though he supposed it did.

She shifted forward on the bed, jerking her hand up and down his shaft.

“Will you fight for this?” she asked as she licked him from root to tip, ensuring her eyes met his as she collected the come that had beaded at the top.

He filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly, fisting his hand in her hair as her mouth closed around him.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, throwing back his head for a moment as he focused on the warmth of her mouth, the pressure of her tongue, the feel of her hand wrapped around his flesh. Somehow, though she only held this one part of him, she managed to invade his entire being.

His fingers tightened in her hair, and she let him slide from her mouth between the firm hold of her lips, gazing up at him with those eyes, clouded with things he recognized—grief and anger and violence—and he wondered if they would ever have taken root in her soul if they had never met.

“I like your mouth, my queen, especially when it is
around my cock,” he said, brushing his thumb over the swell of her bottom lip.

“I am waiting for your answer, my king,” she said.

What will you fight for on the battlefield?

He studied her, very much aware that his heavy cock remained between them, wet from her mouth and aching.

“Do you ask because you do not know or because you wish to hear me say it?”

“It does not matter,” she said. “I gave you a command.”

“Oh, it matters, my love,” he said. His hand slipped to her neck, and she tilted her head back farther. “If the first, I shall have to remind you of my devotion, but I warn you, it will not be kind.”

He did not have that sort of control within him tonight, but she knew that. She could feel it just as much as he could feel the violent storm of her emotions.

“I did not ask for kindness, my king,” she said. “You promised to fuck me.”

He would have laughed, not at her but in disbelief that any of this was real, had her words not made his ears ring and the blood rush right to the head of his cock.

His mouth came down on hers, and he guided her to her back, kissing her with his teeth and tongue, ruthlessly claiming her mouth. His hand was still wrapped around her throat as he thrust his cock against her naked flesh. The friction felt so fucking good, but it did little to relieve the ache of his need for her, especially with the way she writhed beneath him.

He released her and slipped off the bed to remove his clothes. He liked the way she rose onto her elbows
to watch him, her breasts heavy, her nipples peaked and rosy, her legs open.

He looped his arms under her knees and jerked her toward the side of the bed. He bent over her and took her mouth, kissed between her breasts and her stomach, and then knelt between her thighs, where his lips and tongue caressed that sensitive skin, retreating when he came too close to her sex, enjoying the way her color deepened and her clit swelled beneath the teasing.

“Hades,” Persephone gritted out, digging her heels into his shoulders.

He chuckled, dragging his nose along the inner part of her thigh. Her frustration was palpable, her body wound so tight, he wondered if she would explode the moment his mouth touched her.

She glared at him, and he held her gaze, his mouth hovering over her heated flesh.

“I did not promise kindness,” he reminded.

He noticed how her skin pebbled at the feel of his breath.

“No,” she said. “But I will hardly remember the feel of your teasing on the battlefield.”

He didn't recognize the laugh that came out of his mouth.

“Oh, darling, I will never let you forget it.”

His hold tightened as his mouth came down on her.

At the first touch of his tongue, she sighed. The sound went straight through him to the head of his cock, which brushed against the cool silk draped over the bed. It made the roar in his head louder and his desire burn hotter.

Fuck.

Despite her eagerness, he started slow. Even if she did not realize it, he was at her command. Each deep moan, each choked breath guided him to continue with the pressure and pace of his tongue.

When he took her clit into his mouth, circling and sucking, he slipped his fingers inside her.

Fuck. She was so wet, she felt like silk.

He couldn't wait to feel this all around his aching cock.

He curled his fingers inside her and kept his mouth on her clit, setting a ruthless pace. She squirmed beneath him and seemed torn between grinding into his face and retreating altogether, both desperate and overwhelmed by the pleasure. Still, he held her there, tightening his grip. He could feel her rising toward release, tensing and easing until her muscles finally locked and her orgasm descended.

He kept the pressure on her clit, each pass of his tongue eliciting a harsh cry from her open mouth. When she finally relaxed, he released her and rose to his feet, climbing into bed and sliding between her legs.

He stroked the head of his engorged flesh through her slick heat.

“Hades, please,” she moaned, trying to shift closer.

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked.

“That you would not be kind,” she said, and then she reached and wrapped her fingers around his wrist—the same hand that held his cock at her entrance—and whispered, “I can handle you.”

Those words were enough, and he slid inside her with a single hard thrust.

Persephone gasped, and he bent to take her
mouth against his, setting a pace that had her rocking beneath him.

“Yes,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, her fingers digging into his back as she anchored herself against the onslaught.

She took him like a queen, like she was fucking made for him. He moved his hand to her neck and kissed her again, their mouths colliding in a jarring kiss before he sat back. His hand remained on her throat while he slipped the other beneath her knee. He did not cease moving inside her, pounding into her warm flesh, but he did increase the pressure on either side of her neck.

“Oh, fuck,” Persephone breathed, and her hands came down on his arm. Each word she spoke was punctuated by the slam of his hips against her. “It feels so good.”

Her fingers bit into his arm, and the sounds that came from her throat grew louder, a keen cry that made the bottom of his stomach burn.

Fuck, she was perfect.

“Look at me,” Hades commanded, and she opened her eyes, beautiful and green, clouded with lust and love.

He released her neck and bent over her, planting his hands on either side of her face. Their breaths were heavy, their bodies warm and slick, and Hades's cock throbbed inside her, but he had to say this.

“You asked me what I would fight for on the battlefield,” he said. “It is this. It is to have you look at me with these eyes. You worship me with these eyes.”

A smile curved Persephone's lips. “You are a romantic, my king,” she said.