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“I was hoping to avoid it altogether.”

“Telling me?” she asked. Her frustration had not ebbed.

There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, both as a distraction from her anger and from this topic, but he knew he had to face it now that it was before them.

“No, Zeus’s approval. He makes a spectacle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

He wanted to groan, thinking of all the times his brother had arranged marriages, most of which had failed miserably, all because his oracle predicted some kind of potential that would end his rule over the skies and the earth.

Aphrodite and Hephaestus came to mind first, but there was also Thetis, a water nymph, who both Zeus and Poseidon had once courted until a prophecy foretold that she would give birth to a son more powerful than either of them. It was then that Zeus arranged her marriage to Peleus, and that wedding was a catalyst of the Trojan War.

That was often Zeus’s way, though—forsaking the lives of thousands of mortals to protect his throne.

While Hades knew there was no child that could be born of their union, he did fear what the oracle might have to say about the unity of their power. Persephone was life and he was death. They were a cycle that could give and end life, which made them powerful.

How powerful was yet to be seen.

“He will summon us to Olympus for an engagement feast and festivities, and he will drag out his decision for days. I have no desire to be in attendance and no desire to have you suffer through it.”

“And when will he do this?”

He knew by the sound of her voice that she was worried, and he hated it.

“In a few weeks, I imagine.” He tried to keep his voice light to minimize her fear, but it didn’t work because when she spoke again, he heard the emotion in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? If there is a chance we cannot be together, I have the right to know.”

His chest hurt knowing how much this scared her. She’d had to face the guilt of loving him despite her mother’s wishes, only to be faced with the fact that Zeus might ruin it all.

He rose onto his elbow so that he could look at her, silent tears gliding down her face. He brushed them away.

“Persephone,” he said. “No one will keep us apart—not the Fates, not your mother, and not Zeus.”

She swallowed and shook her head. “You are so certain, but even you will not challenge the Fates.”

“Oh, darling, but I have told you before—for you, I would destroy this world.”

Her gaze was unwavering, and he knew what she was searching for—any hint that he was not being truthful, and when she did not find it, she took a breath.

“Perhaps that is what I fear the most.”

Her comment took him back to his conversationwith Hecate.Since when have you worried over carnage?she had asked.

Since I decided to marry the Goddess of Spring.

Perhaps he would not have to worry. By the end of this, she might not want him at all.

But right now, that was not the case. He wasn’t sure what shifted between them. Perhaps it was part of this desperate feeling that everyone outside this space wanted to tear them apart, but the air grew thick between them, and wordlessly, Persephone drew her legs apart, and Hades shifted so that his body rested against hers.

He was so easily aroused by her that his cock was already hard.

Fuck, it hadbeenhard, and only within a few minutes of his last release. He felt so foolish, but he was also desperately in love, and all that really mattered was that Persephone did not mind and felt the same.

He claimed her mouth for the hundredth time tonight and kissed her deep and slow, giving the same attention as he made his way down her body, tongue swirling over her skin and hardened nipples, teasing her hips and inner thighs, before he licked the wetness that had gathered there. He could not really describe how she tasted, sweet but also sharp. Whatever it was, he liked it and wanted more. He buried his face farther into her heat, his eyes meeting hers from where he worked. She writhed in his grasp, her hands all over—pulling at her nipples and rubbing over her clit. She did not seem to have any control over her movements or the sounds coming out of her mouth.

He worked in tandem with them, stroking her with his tongue for every breath and moan she took. Whenhis fingers joined, her hands tangled in his hair and her legs came up to brace his head. He pushed down on her to hold her in place, to drive her to the brink of release, and when she came, she whispered his name and took him into her body once more.