“I can command you to bring her here.” Hades worried his jaw with two fingers. “If she denies me, I can threaten to kill you. She’ll change her mind fairly quickly, I’m guessing.”
As Baden seethed with the urge to lash out, every muscle in his body locked up, preventing movement.
The king sighed. “But such threats usually only work for a short while. She’ll look for ways to escape me. No. I desire her loyalty.”
“Loyalty cannot be forced. Not even with the wreaths.”
Hades flicked his tongue over an incisor, an action Baden caught himself doing. “One conversation with the girl. That’s what I desire.”
If he resisted Hades in this, would the male force the issue? “You may speak with her as long as I’m present, but you must vow not to harm her or the pups in any way—or to allow anyone else to harm them—no matter her answer to you.”
A stiff nod, as if Hades had expected no less but still resented the restrictions. “So be it. Now. Your answers.” He strode to his throne and sat. Every inch the royal, he said, “You aren’t my son...yet. But you could be. The potential is there. Everything hinges on you. The bands start outside your flesh but burn their way inside as your will supersedes mine. Once they’re fully entrenched, I’ll have no anchor for my power and lose my tether of control.”
No anchor, but because of Destruction, Baden and Hades would be forever bonded—Destruction would forever be a part of him. “Branded, I’ll remain tangible to those with bodies?”
“You will.”
Baden reeled, and reeled hard. Both he and Pandora could supersede Hades’s will, becoming his children before the game ended. Hades would lose his control over them while they retained the benefits of the bands.
That. That was what Baden wanted. His life once again his own—with the exception of the beast. But he’d already learned to deal with the creature, thanks to Katarina; they weren’t two anymore, but one.
Hades waved him away. “I suggest you complete today’s task and prepare your woman for our meeting.”
Almost giddy, Baden anchored the necklace in place and hid the mini-scythe beneath his shirt.
“Oh, before you go,” Hades said. “Your methods have been a bit...rough in the past. You’re dealing with a royal this time. Try to be diplomatic.”
“As you wish. Daddy.”
Baden flashed. He ended up in a bedroom, the walls painted black. There were two windows, and both peered into the bottom of an ocean. The water was clear and smooth, coral glistening and fish swimming. Above, the domed ceiling also revealed an open view of the ocean—and the mers raptly watching whatever was taking place on the bed. A four-poster with wisps of black cloth shielding every side.
The race had always been big on public displays. Sex, punishments, disagreements, nothing was taboo.
When the mermaids and mermen spotted Baden, they beat at the glass in an attempt to gain Poseidon’s attention. Judging from the increased moans and groans that drifted through the air, the sea king assumed his audience liked his moves and grooves.
Baden debated leaving and returning a little later—bad form, interrupting a man before climax—but why risk flashing into an ambush after the people warned their king of his unwanted visitor?
Destruction still seethed from the encounter with Hades. Concentrate! Finish this and return to Rina. Protect what’s ours.
Yes. Striding forward, Baden tightened his grip on the scythe. He stealthily parted a section of the cloth and took in the scene. A naked woman was tied to the posts, spread completely, her body forming an X. Her eyes were covered with a mask and a ball gag was stuffed in her mouth. Not the forest nymph.
Poseidon knelt behind her, pounding inside her with wild abandon. Was this a punishment or a pleasure?
Either way, this was probably going to send Poseidon straight to Lucifer’s side.
No. The mer king will die first.
Cold-blooded murder wasn’t always the answer. But sometimes, in his world, it was.
Baden threw the scythe—and the king swung around and threw a dagger. The scythe nicked Poseidon’s biceps, and the dagger embedded in Baden’s shoulder.
He removed the weapon, dropped it to the floor, and like a boomerang, the scythe returned to him. He gripped the hilt and grinned as vibrations radiated up his arm. The weapon hungered for more; he could feel it.
The water king paled when the weapon’s identity clicked. “You are Hades’s enforcer.”
“I am.” Was that pride in his tone?
“The position won’t save you. Leave now or suffer.”