“I probably always will,” he said truthfully, “since I like seeing you blush.”
She covered her cheeks with a moan. “Will you stop it?” Her gaze narrowed. “Or is this your way of distracting for me?”
He said playfully, “Maybe.”
Ever scowled. “It’s not going to work.” She lifted her chin. “T-this is important.”
“Because you’re jealous?” he teased. “There is no need for it. You are my prophesied queen.” He expected her to argue or blush again, but instead her face paled, and Hades frowned. “What is it, milady?”
“Am I? Am I really your prophesied queen?”
“Why are you asking this again? Is it not enough for you that I say you are?”
She didn’t answer.
Hades became grim. “Persephone spoke to you of this, didn’t she? She convinced you that you are not who the prophecy foretells, did she not?” When she still didn’t speak, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. As their gazes met, he said fiercely, “You are my prophesied queen.”
And as soon as the words left his lips, Hades realized one thing.
He did want her to be his prophesied queen.
The...reason didn’t matter. All he knew was that he needed her to be the queen the prophecy foretold, and if what it required was speaking of the past—-
“What do you know of my story with Persephone?” he heard himself ask.
“The usual.” Turning on her back, she stared fixedly at the ceiling, mumbling, “That you fell in love with her at first sight, then kidnapped and took her to the Underworld. It caused Demeter to grieve for her, which then made the world suffer. Persephone felt torn because by then she had fallen in love with you, too. In the end, a compromise was reached, and Persephone gets to live with you half the year then the other half with Demeter.” She turned on her side again, facing him. “Did I get that right?” she asked with a fake bright smile.
The god’s answering smile was even more dazzling, but before she could even figure out whether the sight of it made her feel even more hurt, she heard Hades drawl, “You got it perfectly, but unfortunately only half of it was true.”
“You didn’t love her at first sight?” She held her breath hopefully.
Hades winced. “That, unfortunately, was true.”
She forced herself to laugh. “I knew that.”
“The part about Persephone loving me back, however, is not true.”
She said uneasily, “But when I talked to her—-”
“She seemed like she still loved me?” he asked shrewdly.
She nodded.
“That’s no surprise,” he murmured cynically. “It took me a humiliatingly long time to figure out that when it comes to self-preservation, Persephone can be extremely cunning. Contrary to what you’ve read—-”
“And I’ve read a lot,” she warned him.
“Then you’ve read a lot of inaccurate stories,” he retorted. “The truth is, I did fall in love with her because she was, at that time, everything I wanted.”
“Do you think I should know what that is?” she asked seriously.
“Not really.” He had the grace to flush as he spoke.
“Oh.” She tried very hard not to read anything from his words, but it was impossible. He may be a god, but he was, as he had once reminded her, also a man. And after meeting Persephone, it was quite easy to know exactly what it was about the goddess that had attracted him to her.
“Do you still want to hear the rest of the story?”
“Not really,” she admitted, “but I think I need to.”
Hades sighed. “You are a masochist.”
“I’m not.”
“Also, you blush even more quickly when you lie.”
“I do not.” But her heated cheeks were proving her wrong right that very moment.
“But if this is really what you want, let’s go back to the story then.” He reached for her as he spoke and placed her on top of him. When she tried lifting her head, he pushed her head back down against his chest.
“This way,” he murmured lazily, “I can comfort you every time you feel sad.” He paused. “Or jealous.”
The words made her laugh and choke, the way only this beautiful man could, and she whispered helplessly, “Be honest. You’re also the god of sadism, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” was the only teasing reply he gave Ever, and as his hand swept down her back, he continued with the rest of his story.
“After her party, we no longer spoke, we no longer shared a bed – we didn’t even share a life. By the time she decided to leave, I was just glad it was over. I couldn’t even make myself give a damn about the lies Persephone spread about me. She went as far as making historians rewrite our story – and that’s what you’ve been reading. Her version of the truth, because she’s so damn vain, she wants the world to remember her as the woman I found irresistible over everyone else.”