I can feel my eyes going wider and wider as one of them sets up a little table in front of me and the other five place takeout food from five different restaurants on it. “What is this, Hades? Did you steal someone’s food to have it here this fast?” Then the sheer amount registers. “I can’t possibly eat all of this.”
He waits for his people to file out and then shuts the door. “You will eat some of it.”
“That’s so wasteful.”
“Please. My people love leftovers to a truly unholy degree. The remainder of the food won’t last the day once you’re finished.” He rearranges the cartons on the table and pushes the whole thing closer to me. “Eat.”
A not-insignificant part of me wants to resist just for the sake of resisting. But that’s shortsighted. If I’m light-headed, it means I need calories, and there’s a feast of them right in front of me. That’s simple logic. I still glare at him. “Stop staring at me while I try to eat.”
“Gods forbid.” He strides to the desk on the other side of the room. It’s smaller than I expected, though the dark wood and figures carved into its legs give it a dramatic flair. The first chance I get, I’m going to be on the floor trying to figure out what those carvings depict. To see if they match the style of the columns on the buildings.
This isn’t where he conducts actual work. There’s no way. Hades seems anal enough to prefer his work space clean and organized, but this is too pristine to be used day in and day out. More than that, his room is right through the door in the corner. No one conducts meetings that close to where they sleep. It would be foolish in the extreme.
Which doesn’t quite explain why he brought me here instead of to one of the many other rooms in the house.
I set the thought away, and as I examine my options for food, my mind goes back to the greenhouse. Annoyance at how overbearing Hades is or no, I can’t ignore the fact that he gave me the barest glimpse behind the curtain. That place is special to him and he allowed me access to it, plans to continue to allow me access to it. For someone as obviously closed in as Hades, it’s a gift of the highest order.
I’m not sure it means anything, but it feels like it does. If he can trust me that much, I suppose I can attempt to stop being such a pain in his ass, at least when it comes to taking care of myself. Even if I kind of like the way Hades gets overprotective and growly.
I’m sure I can find another way to poke at him.
In fact, I have several ideas already.
Chapter 13
Hades
Persephone has put me in an unenviable position. She’s right—we need to get the word out that we’re together sooner rather than later—but she’s also proving time and time again that she will put her health and safety last in her long list of priorities. Those fuckers in the upper city might applaud her for that, but down here, it means I can’t trust her to be honest with me. Which means I could harm her if I’m not careful.
I don’t want to be careful. Fuck, but I’ve never been so close to losing control with another person before. Every smart comment out of those pretty pink lips and sign of arch amusement in those hazel eyes makes me want to drag her down into the dark with me. To divine all her darkest, filthiest fantasies that she’s barely been able to admit to herself she wants…and then give them to her.
That doesn’t explain why I took her to the greenhouse, though. That place has nothing to do with reputation or sex. It’s one of my few refuges. I only took her there because it seems like she could use a little refuge right now, too. That’s it. Simple, really. No reason to look further into it.
I flip a page in the book in my hands and watch her eat out of the corner of my eye. Her motions are short and irritated, but she’s stopped staring at me like she wants to stab me with her fork.
It takes longer than I expect before she sits back with a sigh. “I can’t eat another bite.”
I ignore her and turn another page. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to go back and figure out where I actually was in this book, because I’m sure as hell not reading it right now. Persephone huffs out a low curse that almost, almost makes me smile and slouches back against the couch.
Within five minutes, she’s snoring softly.
I shake my head and stand. How in the gods’ name did she manage to make it this far while ignoring her most basic needs? Her mother has been Demeter for years. A person can only charge blindly ahead for so long before everything collapses around them. Apparently no one taught Persephone that lesson.