A long,coldshower.
Fucking Hades.
CHAPTER FORTY
THEA
The dining room is just as grand and extravagant as the throne room. A large table that’s easily able to seat twenty dominates the space, constructed out of rich mahogany wood. A three-tiered chandelier dangles from the ceiling, but on closer inspection, it appears to be made of bones. The skull in the center emanates a radiant white light.
Only two of the twenty seats are occupied. Hades, of course, sits at the head, with Persephone in the seat to the right of him.
“Oh! You’re here!” Persephone’s hands flutter to her throat as she stares at me. “How did you sleep? Were the beds comfortable?”
Instinctively, I snap my gaze in Zaid’s direction, feeling a blush heat my cheeks.
“It was…great,” I say, forcing my attention back on Persephone.
She appears pleased, her smile broadening. “Fantastic! Do you want it to be your permanent room here? We can add some color to it, if you want! Maybe some nice blinds? Blankets? Decorations? What do you think about?—”
“Seph!” Hades admonishes, though he doesn’t even flick his eyes her way.
His features remain entirely impassive as he sips what appears to be coffee.
Do the gods even need to eat and drink? I suppose I never really thought about it before, but now I wonder?—
“Sit.” Hades waves a hand in the air, and five chairs are pulled away from the table simultaneously.
I exchange a glance with my guys, steely determination bolstering me, and sit in the seat beside Hades, opposite Persephone. Everett glares at me, obviously not pleased with my choice, but I stick my tongue out at him.
Yes, my disappearance impacted all of us, but I was the one locked away for hundreds of years. Tortured, if you think about it. I have questions, and Hades may be the only one who can answer them.
Before I can even begin to voice one of the thousands of thoughts percolating in my head, Hades snaps his fingers. Seven servants hurry into the room, each carrying a silver tray. Plates of the fluffiest-looking pancakes I’ve ever seen are placed in front of us, followed by scrambled eggs and strips of bacon.
“We can’t have this conversation on empty stomachs,” Persephone explains, though she doesn’t lift a hand to eat her own food. She just continues watching me, her eyes abnormally wide and doe-like.
It’s…unnerving. A little freaky.
Before I can dig into my breakfast, Zaid stops me, placing a hand on my knee.
“Don’t,” he warns, his voice quiet but his eyes sharp.
But…pancakes.
I must give him a pathetic, puppy-dog look because he sighs heavily. “Certain foods eaten in the Underworld can make it impossible for you to leave.”
Hades scoffs and gracefully cuts off a piece of his pancake. It’s so strange to see. He’s a terrifying, powerful guy, yet this makes him seem almost…normal. Domesticated.
Even if he does eat like a goddamn horse, his teeth nibbling at each bite he brings to his lips.
“As if I want you five here longer than necessary,” he says, his tone carefully apathetic.
“It’s perfectly safe,” Persephone is quick to reassure.
“Isn’t food how Hades trapped you here to begin with?” I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously as I recount the legend of her entrapment.
I feel a little shitty when her face falls, her eyes misting.
“Enough!” Hades slams his fist down on the table, causing it to rattle.
