I can’t do this. Not like this.
Traffic has slowed. I don’t hear it—I don’t hear any noises from outside—but I see it in the blinking red brake lights.
Why did I think I could do this?
“Problem?” comes his deep voice.
Gasping, I jump. I didn’t realize he’d gotten up. Or that he’s so close behind me that when I turn, I crash into his chest. I can’t help but inhale his scent. Powerful and dark and reeking of man.
I can’t do this.
His gaze sweeps my face, pauses at my mouth before returning to my eyes. He raises his hand, fingers light as a feather against my temple when he pushes a lock of hair back. He doesn’t speak, not right away.
If I do this, I’m finished.
“She wasn’t the same when she came back,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.
“What?”
“Persephone. She was different.”
I lick my lips, swallow.
“Hades stained her,” he adds.
I blink, taking in his words, trying to breathe as his dark eyes devour me.
“Like you’re going to stain me,” I say weakly.
He studies me, and I see the past in his eyes. I see that night. The Halloween party. The drink. Jonas. Nora.
I remember him coming into the chapel. Remember the broken door slamming against the stone wall and the icy, wet wind. I remember shivering on that stone slab.
He’d looked like an angel that night. One who’d fallen lifetimes ago. The darkness that surrounded him, I remember that too.
I see how he looked at Jonas. And I see how he looked at me lying there. Being made to lie there.
Rage.
Like he would murder Jonas.
After he lifted me in his arms, there was lightning, then my memory goes dark for a while. I don’t recall the walk back to the house. Don’t recall him laying me in my bed or undressing me. I know I couldn’t stand my clothes, my skin burning, itching like a million ants were crawling over me.
But I do remember how he looked at me when I was naked.
And I can still see him afterward.
An animal licking his lips after feasting. Me beneath him my legs open. My body slick with sweat and chilled with rain at the same time on that icy night.
“What if I say no?” I ask.
“You won’t,” he says, and he’s not mocking me. Just talking. “It’s what you’ve always wanted. I’m giving you what you’ve always wanted. What you’re too weak to ask for yourself.”
“I’m not weak.” But he’s right.
Hades and I, there’s something that binds us. It’s always been like this with us. Like a moth to the flame.
Except that I don’t know which of us is the moth and which the flame that will burn the other.
He grips my wrists roughly, pushing them behind my back, holding them in one of his hands. His gaze burns with hunger. He’s ravenous. But does he know that hunger will devour us both?
“I made a mistake with you,” he mutters, eyes out of focus. I think he’s talking more to himself than me.
“What?”
He shakes his head and his eyes come back into focus. And when they do, they’re harder. He grips the zipper of the hoodie and his tone is different. “When I tell you to take off your clothes you take off your clothes.” He unzips me as he speaks and in moments, the hoodie is hanging open leaving me exposed in just a bra.
He doesn’t look down as he pushes his big hand into the waistband of my yoga pants.
“Hayden,” I start, trying to wriggle free of his grasp.
I should tell him now.
He slides his hand deeper and I gasp when his fingers slip into my underwear, into the neat mound of hair there before they curl around my sex.
Predator.
Run.
But he has me and I can’t. I wouldn’t if I could.
“You should…I…”
He flicks his thumb across my clit and my breath catches. He watches me, eyes locked on mine while two fingers slide inside me.
I rise up to tiptoe.
He pauses, a look of surprise crossing his features. He moves his fingers again, testing.
I grit my teeth, not sure what I expect him to do.
He tilts his head, a question in his eyes.
I swallow.
He tests again.
“Persephone?”
I just stare up at him feeling my face burn.
“Are you a virgin?”
Should I lie? Does it matter? I mean, he can tell, obviously he can tell.
He moves his fingers again, pressing against the barrier.
“Persephone?” His eyebrows furrow.
“Does it matter?” I’m trying to sound just a little in control but my voice quakes. “I mean, it’s proof I wasn’t lying about Jonas at least,” I try to sound casual while I’m anything but.
“Persephone—”
“Is it off? Our deal?” I’m not sure a man like him has much use for a virgin when he can bed any woman he wants and preferably an experienced one.
He studies me wordlessly and all I can do is stare up at him, at the green-gold ring around dilated black pupils.
“Is it?” I ask again.
He shakes his head, pulls his hand free. “No.”
7
Hayden
She’s a virgin.
Fuck.
This changes things.
The elevator dings.
Persephone gasps, turning as the doors slide open. I look at my brother’s face as he steps into my office. I register his momentary surprise, but he’s quick to hide it and a grin spreads across his face.
Ares and I are identical twins, each a mirror image of the other. I wonder if she notices the small details. The cleft in my right eyebrow, my brother’s matching one in his left. The dimple in my right cheek, his on his left.
“Didn’t realize you had company, brother.” Ares says. He doesn’t step back onto the elevator, and he isn’t subtle as his gaze sweeps a partially undressed Persephone before I can shield her from his view.
“What’s going on?” Persephone asks, panicked as she adjusts her yoga pants.
“I told you this wasn’t a good time, didn’t I?” I tug her hoodie together and zip it up. I lean into her ear. “Were you saving yourself for me?” I whisper so only she hears me.
“What?” She draws back, confused and embarrassed.
“You remember my brother, Ares?” I ask, stepping to the side once she’s covered.
She stares at him as if she can’t believe this is happening.
“Ares, Persephone,” I say to him.
Ares pours himself a whiskey and gives her a one-sided grin. “Percy Abbot. You were always a pretty thing. Although seeing this, I do have to wonder about your taste in men.” He winks.
Her cheeks burn red as she fumbles with the hoodie’s zipper, trying to tug it even higher.
I drink a sip of whiskey. “You’re early,” I tell Ares.
He shifts his gaze to me, and the playful smile vanishes. “I have shit to do. I don’t work for you, remember. Don’t expect me to appear at your summons.”
Persephone grabs her coat, puts it on and hugs it to herself. Her face is still fiery red when she turns back to me.