She swallowed and then managed, “Why did you help the mother tonight?”
“Because I wished to.”
“And Orpheus?”
Hades sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “It isn’t so simple. Yes, I have the ability to resurrect the dead, but it does not work with everyone, especially where the Fates are involved,” he answered. “Eurydice’s life was cut short by the Fates for a reason. I cannot touch her.”
“But the girl?”
“She wasn’t dead, just in limbo. I can bargain with the Fates for lives in limbo.”
“What do you mean bargain with the Fates?”
“It is a fragile thing,” he said. “If I ask the Fates to spare one soul, I do not get a say in the life of another.”
“But...you are the God of the Underworld!”
“And the Fates are Divine,” he said. “I must respect their existence as they respect mine.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
Hades raised a br
ow. “Doesn’t it? Or is it that it doesn’t sound fair to mortals?”
It was exactly that. “So, mortals are to suffer for the sake of your game?”
Hades jaw tightened. “It is not a game, Persephone.”
Hades voice was stern, and it gave her pause.
“Least of all mine.”
She glared at him. “So, you have offered an explanation for part of your behavior, but what of the other bargains?”
Hades eyes darkened, and he took a step toward her in the already-restricted space. “Are you asking for yourself or the mortals you claim to defend?”
“Claim?” She would show him—her arguments against his tricks were not for show.
“You only became interested in my business ventures after you entered into a contract with me.”
“Business ventures? Is that what you call willfully misleading me?”
His brows rose. “So, this is about you.”
“What you have done is unjust—not just to me but to all the mortals—”
“I do not want to talk about mortals. I would like to talk about you.”
Hades moved toward her, and she took a step away, the bookcase pressed into her back.
“Why did you invite me to your table?”
Persephone glared and looked away. “You said you’d teach me.”
“Teach you what, Goddess?” he asked. He stared at her a moment, eyes seductive and dark. Then his head dropped into the crook of her neck, and his lips brushed lightly over her skin. “What did you truly desire to learn then?”
“Cards,” she whispered, but she could barely breathe, and she knew that she was lying. She’d wanted to learn him—the feel of him, the smell of him, the power of him.