His face hardened. “I do not destroy lives.”
“You only make the terms of your contract known after you’ve won! That is deception.”
“The terms are clear; the details are mine to determine. It is not deception, as you call it. It is a gamble.”
“You challenge their vice. You lay their darkest secrets bare—”
“I challenge what is destroying their life. It is their choice to conquer or succumb.”
She stared at him. He spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone, as if he’d had this conversation thousands of times.
“And how to do you know their vice?” she asked.
It was the answer she had been waiting for, and at the question, a wicked smile crossed Hades’ face. It transformed him and hinted at the god beneath the glamour.
“I see to the soul,” he said. “What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it.”
But what do you see when you look at me?
She hated to think he knew her secrets and she knew nothing about him.
And then she snapped.
“You are the worst sort of god!”
Hades flinched, but quickly recovered from his shock as it melted into anger.
“Persephone—” Adonis warned, but Hades warm baritone quickly drowned him out.
“I am helping these mortals,” he argued, taking a deliberate step toward her.
“How? By offering an impossible bargain? Abstain from addiction or lose your life? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Hades.”
“I have had success,” he argued.
“Oh? And what is your success? I suppose it doesn’t matter to you as you win either way, right? All souls come to you at some point.”
His gaze turned stony and he moved to close the distance between them, but before he could, Adonis stepped between the god and Persephone. Hades eyes ignited, and with a flick of his wrist, Adonis went limp and collapsed to the floor.
“What did you do?” She started to reach for him, but Hades
grabbed her wrists, keeping her on her feet and drawing her into him. She held her breath, not wanting to be this close, where she could feel his warmth and smell his scent. His breath caressed her lips as he spoke.
“I’m assuming you don’t want him to hear what I have to say to you—don’t worry, I won’t request a favor when I erase his memory.”
“Oh, how kind of you,” she mocked, craning her neck to meet his gaze. He bent over her, his hold on her wrists the only thing keeping her from falling onto her back.
“What liberties you take with my favor, Lady Persephone.” His voice was low—too low for this kind of conversation. It was the voice of a lover—warm and impassioned.
“You never specified how I had to use your favor.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction.
“I didn’t, though I expected you to know better than to drag this mortal into my realm.”
It was her turn to narrow her eyes. “Do you know him?”
Hades ignored the question.