Hades explained nonchalantly.
“A millennia ago,” she shot back.
“Now you want something from me. Something my brother doesn’t give you, maybe never did. And I’m supposed to be thankful, eager even, that you deign to come down from on high and offer me my brother’s leavings. I should take his castoffs and be grateful for it?” Disgust was written on his countenance.
He knew that wasn’t how she’d intended it. “So, I’m forever to be something big brother didn’t want—a hand me down whore? Should I have been a virgin forever?”
“Yes.”
“What about Persephone?”
“What about her?”
“You would have fucked her seventy-five deviations from Sunday.”
“A hundred. A thousand,” he swore.
“What’s good for the gander, Hades,” Hera said defiantly.
“Obviously, it wasn’t good, was it? Because I was left with this.” He flung the box on the floor that held his heart.
Hades released her and stalked from the room. She sank to her knees to catch her breath and she saw that the box had sprung open and the husk of his heart had fallen to the floor. Hera reached out to touch it. It was so small—the sight of it dark and still twisted her insides.
She picked it up carefully like she would have had it been a baby bluebird. Hera feared it was going to crumble to nothing in her fingers, but it sat still and hard. She stroked her finger down the side of it in a tender motion and found it to be so cold it burned her. Hera brought the dark thing to her lips and blew soft, warm breath over it. Surely, if it was so hard, that wouldn’t hurt it. It was dirty, after all, and she didn’t want to put it back in the box that way.
A little bit of the charred edge flaked off and Hera gasped. For one horrible moment, she thought it was going to dissolve. Until she saw a bit of something beneath. It was ashen and gray, but it wasn’t black. Hera brought it to her lips again and this time, she touched that new place with her mouth as she blew.
Another layer peeled away, like the shell of a hard-boiled egg. What she held in her hand now looked to be a stone. It was heavy and bleak, but was solid. It wasn’t a fey thing of ashes and soot.
Hera placed it tenderly in the box and closed it. She put it back up on the mantle and traced her fingers over it lightly before turning to figure out where tall, dark and sullen had gotten to.
She crept through the long corridors carefully until she remembered which passage led to his chambers and was astonished when she heard a feminine voice. Well, the tart would just have to go, whoever she was. Hera had a plan and Hades was the lynchpin. Hell or high water, she would have her way in this. Hera hadn’t come this far to be thwarted by what was between anyone’s thighs.
“Hades, I can’t find the towels and I… Sorry. Didn’t see you were on the phone.” She heard through the door.
Oh, hell no. It was not happening like this. He’d left her to fend for herself to come up here and shag this hooker, whoever she was, while he knew she wanted him? That was too big of a slap to Hera’s ego to let it pass.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t already succumbed to her charms? Part of why she’d wanted Hades was because he was monogamous. If he had a woman, whether he loved her or not, he wasn’t running around trying to stick his dick or thunderbolt into anything that would stand still long enough.
Damn it.
One little look wouldn’t hurt, would it? She peered through the door and saw the same snarling gargoyle from the day previous and a woman’s voice issuing from its mouth. It looked just as pissed off at this day’s indignity. At first she thought the charade was for her, but she could see he actually was on the phone.
Thank the powers for cell phones. All that prophecy stuff was a colossal pain in the taco. Gods talking to each other through oracles, shit never came through clearly.
It was obvious he was talking to Persephone from his tone of voice,
“A millennia ago,” she shot back.
“Now you want something from me. Something my brother doesn’t give you, maybe never did. And I’m supposed to be thankful, eager even, that you deign to come down from on high and offer me my brother’s leavings. I should take his castoffs and be grateful for it?” Disgust was written on his countenance.
He knew that wasn’t how she’d intended it. “So, I’m forever to be something big brother didn’t want—a hand me down whore? Should I have been a virgin forever?”
“Yes.”
“What about Persephone?”
“What about her?”
“You would have fucked her seventy-five deviations from Sunday.”
“A hundred. A thousand,” he swore.
“What’s good for the gander, Hades,” Hera said defiantly.
“Obviously, it wasn’t good, was it? Because I was left with this.” He flung the box on the floor that held his heart.
Hades released her and stalked from the room. She sank to her knees to catch her breath and she saw that the box had sprung open and the husk of his heart had fallen to the floor. Hera reached out to touch it. It was so small—the sight of it dark and still twisted her insides.
She picked it up carefully like she would have had it been a baby bluebird. Hera feared it was going to crumble to nothing in her fingers, but it sat still and hard. She stroked her finger down the side of it in a tender motion and found it to be so cold it burned her. Hera brought the dark thing to her lips and blew soft, warm breath over it. Surely, if it was so hard, that wouldn’t hurt it. It was dirty, after all, and she didn’t want to put it back in the box that way.
A little bit of the charred edge flaked off and Hera gasped. For one horrible moment, she thought it was going to dissolve. Until she saw a bit of something beneath. It was ashen and gray, but it wasn’t black. Hera brought it to her lips again and this time, she touched that new place with her mouth as she blew.
Another layer peeled away, like the shell of a hard-boiled egg. What she held in her hand now looked to be a stone. It was heavy and bleak, but was solid. It wasn’t a fey thing of ashes and soot.
Hera placed it tenderly in the box and closed it. She put it back up on the mantle and traced her fingers over it lightly before turning to figure out where tall, dark and sullen had gotten to.
She crept through the long corridors carefully until she remembered which passage led to his chambers and was astonished when she heard a feminine voice. Well, the tart would just have to go, whoever she was. Hera had a plan and Hades was the lynchpin. Hell or high water, she would have her way in this. Hera hadn’t come this far to be thwarted by what was between anyone’s thighs.
“Hades, I can’t find the towels and I… Sorry. Didn’t see you were on the phone.” She heard through the door.
Oh, hell no. It was not happening like this. He’d left her to fend for herself to come up here and shag this hooker, whoever she was, while he knew she wanted him? That was too big of a slap to Hera’s ego to let it pass.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t already succumbed to her charms? Part of why she’d wanted Hades was because he was monogamous. If he had a woman, whether he loved her or not, he wasn’t running around trying to stick his dick or thunderbolt into anything that would stand still long enough.
Damn it.
One little look wouldn’t hurt, would it? She peered through the door and saw the same snarling gargoyle from the day previous and a woman’s voice issuing from its mouth. It looked just as pissed off at this day’s indignity. At first she thought the charade was for her, but she could see he actually was on the phone.
Thank the powers for cell phones. All that prophecy stuff was a colossal pain in the taco. Gods talking to each other through oracles, shit never came through clearly.
It was obvious he was talking to Persephone from his tone of voice,
Similar Books
