He spears me with a penetrating glare that makes fear snake down my spine.
How could I ever think he was normal?
I can practically feel the raw, unencumbered power radiating off him in malevolent waves. The delicate hairs on my arms stand straight up, as if the air is alive with electricity. Every instinct demands that I run away—and run far.
And the most terrifying part of all of this?
I don’t think Hades is truly mad. Irritated, yes, and undoubtedly annoyed.
But mad? No.
I can’t imagine what he would be like if he released all of that festering rage inside of him. I don’t think the world would survive his wrath.
“You do not come into my home and insult my wife,” Hades continues, his tone scathing.
“Our apologies,” Zaid says quickly—ever the diplomat. “We meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t mean disrespect,” Persephone pipes in, waving her hands at her eyes as if she hopes to dry up her tears. “I’m just sensitive. But I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
She offers her husband a timid, shaky smile, and he seems to physically deflate.
He may be the most powerful god in existence, but she definitely wears the pants in that relationship. She has him wrapped around her dainty finger, and he doesn’t even seem to realize it. It makes me a little sad to know that his love for her is unreciprocated—at least if the rumors are true.
But at the same time, he did kidnap her and force her into marriage, so fuck him.
“Now,” Hades continues, and the power permeating the room seems to dissipate, at least slightly. I can finally breathe. “Tell me everything.”
I exchange glances with my guys, debating. But at the end of the day, we came here for answers. Like with Athena, we have no choice. Keeping secrets won’t help us in this situation.
Everett nods, and Krystian grins encouragingly. Zaid gives my thigh another squeeze. Rafe doesn’t acknowledge me, keeping his glare fixed on Hades, as if waiting for him to make any sudden movements.
Taking a deep breath, I tell Hades everything.
He listens without interruption, his features carefully blank except for the nearly imperceptible tightening of his eyes. At one point, Persephone cries out, her eyes wide with horror. She places a trembling hand against her mouth as tears stream down her cheeks.
When I’m done, silence permeates the air, stiff with an acrimonious type of tension.
Hades’s long fingers tap against the tabletop.
“This…is concerning.” A frown tugs at his lips. “This could explain the soul imbalance over the last couple hundred years.”
“Soul imbalance?” I ask, confused.
Hades seems surprised, blinking slightly, and I realize he didn’t mean to let that little tidbit slip.
He tilts his head to the side, contemplating me, before seeming to come to some sort of conclusion.
Settling back in his chair, he folds his arms over his chest. “What I’m about to tell you five cannot leave this room. Do you understand?”
There’s an unstated threat in that question, one that promises pain, misery, and death if we don’t agree.
“We understand,” I say, answering for us all.
Hades studies us for another long moment, his eyes piercing, before he blows out a haggard breath, that one sound rife with an eternity of responsibility and pain.
“The Underworld is different from the realm above. The gods created it, yes, but we don’t maintain it. Up above, every god and goddess has a purpose to keep the world running. Poseidon is in charge of the sea and the creatures in it. Zeus took the sky. Demeter allows things to grow. Apollo is in charge of the sun. I could go on and on. It takes an entire pantheon of gods to run the living world. But the Underworld? It’s only me, and it’s just as grand as the world above—if not grander. It needs more than just my power to thrive.”
“The power of souls,” Zaid breathes, shock splaying across his face.
