Page 31 of A Goddess Unraveled (Olympus Rising)

He’d been thinking with his dick. It was the only explanation for allowing such a contemptible act to happen. He’d become so numb to his surroundings that he’d forgotten what it looked like. What it all meant to him.

He could have taken Lexi anywhere else in the palace. Anywhere but the very place he shared a bed with Persephone. If he couldn’t trust his own mind, how could he earn Lexi’s loyalty? But more urgently, how could he earn her forgiveness?

Dropping heavily to his knees, Hades gathered her hands together and gazed into her liquid blue eyes, shimmering with unshed tears.

“My careless error is inexcusable. I wouldn’t blame you if you refused me and left the palace as punishment. I assure you that no one would feel more pain than me. It was the excitement of having you to myself. There’s so much I want to share with you.”

Lexi put her finger to his lips, stopping his desperate rant. “I don’t blame you. Everything is happening so fast, we’re bound to have lapses. This room is very nice. Welcoming, even. But is there somewhere else we can go for refreshments?”

With guilt weighing him down like a slab of marble, Hades stood and tucked Lexi into his arms, loving her more with every kind gesture she showed him. He’d behaved selfishly, and she’d forgiven him without judgment. Even the wisest gods could learn from her compassion.

“You’re a merciful angel and a goddess of the highest caliber.”

“You might rescind that statement when I beat you at croquet again.”

He chuckled into her hair then inhaled deeply, imagining where they might plant an extra patch of lemon verbena. Could he convince her never to bathe?

“I’ll have the refreshments sent to the astronomy room. In the meantime, you deserve an explanation.”

Fiona appeared, clearing her throat as she walked toward them balancing a full tray. “Is everything all right, Your Graces?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Fiona, could you please deliver the tray to the astronomy room. I’ve already sent Blythe ahead to ready it. Lexi and I will explore the palace to give you and your sisters more time.”

“As you wish. That room does have a lovely view of the gorge.” Fiona bowed her head to hide an expression of relief as her eyes flitted to Lexi. His nymphs had always been more astute than he could ever hope to be.

“You said you don’t want any secrets in your home. Well, I’m going to tell you a secret.” Hades smiled at Lexi to cover his emotions. They’d been simmering dangerously close to the surface since her arrival. He was certain she’d noticed the moisture building in his eyes, and perhaps even the thrumming in his chest.

How could he explain that each time he saw an image of Persephone his guts twisted into knots, and he told himself a lie. It was the only way he knew how to cope with a truth that he didn’t want to believe.

But if there was ever a time to face his fears and speak the words he’d been smothering for more than a century, this was it. Lexi gave him hope, and she deserved the truth. With his pulse in his throat, he led her away from the painful reminder that she was not the first goddess to steal his heart.

“I’m a liar, Lexi. Not to you. To myself.”

She looked at him, her soft gaze offering only solace, and his mind tried to convince him he was just imagining it.

“Persephone’s duties in Olympus keep her away from her home here, from me, for much longer periods than the stories relate. Prior to her visit last winter, she didn’t come home for three winters. Before that, it was only December. Sometimes only January. She’s never been fond of the mortal realm, which means our only time together is spent here. And our correspondence is just as rare. Well, her correspondence with me is rare. I write her every month, even when I know it’s an exercise in futility.”

They had reached the staircase, but instead of taking it down, they walked up, treading a familiar path that led to his study.

“I’m telling you this not to gain your sympathy. The last thing I want is for you to feel obliged to repair my broken heart. Pity is not a good foundation to build a relationship on. You wanted the truth. And you deserve the truth. I’m just as flawed as anyone you might meet on the street. Moreso when it comes to love. I hope you’ll forgive me if you feel like I’ve led you astray.”

A smile slipped onto her face as easily as paint flows over canvas. “I never believed you didn’t have flaws. If I thought you were perfect, I wouldn’t have followed you here. It would have been too intimidating. I’d be spending all my time trying to measure up to some kind of lofty standard. Also, for what it’s worth, I’ve heard that it’s nearly impossible to maintain healthy long-distance relationships.”

He stopped their progress on the worn wool rug so he could stare at her. She didn’t bat an eyelash, meeting his gaze just as steadily. “I know you didn’t choose to come here solely because of me. And I support whatever decisions you make for yourself, even if they take you away from the underworld someday. There’s no gauge we use to measure success here, although Hecate will make if feel that way sometimes. As far as I’m concerned, you have the freedom to choose who you want to be, with no expectations.”

The chime of his seventeenth-century floor clock struck the ninth evening hour, and she glanced past his head at it. “That’s a beautiful clock, although it seems strange to keep time when you have eternity.”

“I thought the same thing too. But it was a gift from a mortal, and after installing it, I came to enjoy the reminder that the mortal world still exists outside of my immortal life here.”

Her attention swung back to him, and she pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “When you say things like that, it makes me want you even more.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. The feeling is mutual. Why don’t we continue the tour and let the anticipation build?”

“If we must.” She wrapped her arm around his, wearing a smile he knew was just for him. It felt almost blasphemous not to cater to her desires, but he’d been too reckless and had made mistakes. So, he started the tour.

“The palace was built by the Titans before the war. There were fewer gods back then, and the process was long.”

“But everyone in Olympus has supernatural powers, right? Didn’t that speed things up?”

“Not every gift is useful for building. Some are better for tearing down.”

“So you didn’t ask for Zeus’s help, I take it?” Lexi pantomimed an explosion with her hands, which made him laugh.

“He has spent very little time in the underworld since the war. When he decided to release Cronus from Tartarus, he gave the order to me, and I carried it out.”

He escorted her to the central tower, pointing out the pieces he’d collected on his travels. Her eyes lit up whenever she discovered they’d been to the same places.

“This looks like a relic of the Roman Empire,” she said of an archaic bronze bowl perched on a pedestal.

“Athens, actually. I was there when Poseidon and Athena competed for the city’s patronage. We all know who won that fight. As my obstinate brother sent the floods, I managed to secure this piece before it floated away.”

“Wow. It must be incredibly old.”

He lifted his brows, and his lips followed suit. “I’d take offense at that remark but there will come a day when you stop looking at the calendar, for your own peace of mind.”

She leaned in and kissed him. “It’s hard to imagine you being around that long. You have the best of both worlds—a youthful body and the wisdom of experience.” Before he could respond, she turned to glance up a spiral staircase, the steps eroded from centuries of use. “Where does this go?

“That leads to the dome room. I’m usually the only one who goes up there . . . when I need time alone.”

She smirked but stayed pointedly silent. He had to ask.

“What have you heard?”

“Only that you can get broody, according to Mnemosyne. I’ll remember never to disturb you up there.”

He took her hand. “You’re welcome anywhere in the palace, including the central tower. I just can’t promise I won’t be cranky if you find me there.”

The sky had darkened to indigo by the time they reached the astronomy room, and Hades cringed when he noticed the nymphs had used a twelfth-century Chinese vase as a door stopper. Inside, Blythe and her sister nymphs scuttled about, sweeping dust off the floor and covering the mattress with fresh linens. Fiona was the first to greet them.

“We’re nearly through with preparations. Does the young goddess wish to take in the fragrant waters of a bath? We have oils of rose, lilac, juniper . . .”

“No, thank you,” Hades said. “I prefer Lexi to smell exactly the way she does right now. However, I’d be grateful if you had access to lemon verbena oil.” His gaze flicked to Lexi, hoping he wouldn’t see disappointment on her face. There would be plenty of time for baths and all manner of luxuries. She reassured him with a smile.

“How lovely, your lordship. I’ll personally see to it.” Fiona’s eyes twinkled with purpose as she flitted away, reminding Hades why he loved his housemates. They were more like family than staff, and although the gods regularly consorted with nymphs, Hades found their minds too flighty for something as consequential as intimacy.

Sella was next to bustle over, her green eyes lit like Tiffany glass. She pointed at the bed, recently refurbished in ivory sheets.

“I laid out a nightgown for the young goddess,” Sella said. “I hope it’s to your liking.” She offered Lexi a cherubic smile, which Lexi returned without pause.

“Thank you. The room is beautiful. And everyone has been very kind. Excuse me if I seem a little dazed.”

Sella gestured to the teapot sitting on the table. “A cup of strong chamomile will set you right. And if that doesn’t work, Lord Hades has excellent taste in wine. Let me know if I can assist you in any way. My name is Sella.”

She skipped out of the room, which left only Blythe, who walked up to them and folded into a deep curtsy. Being a transplant from the palace of the gods, Blythe had never lost the ingrained formalities of Olympus, despite Hades’s insistence that her unyielding cheerfulness was all he required.

“I’m very glad you’re here, Lady Lexi. It’s been many springs since I’ve seen our lord look so happy. I hope you’ll be happy here too.”

Hades watched with some trepidation as Blythe waltzed over to the priceless vase and dragged it into the hallway, allowing the door to shut. When he turned to Lexi, she was taking in her surroundings with an open mouth, no doubt struggling with the enormity of her decision. Or perhaps it was the gadgetry that winked and spun from various locations in the room—an astrolabe that moved with the rhythm of the cosmos, a twirling mobile of planets, carved crystals set on glowing stands. He’d hoped she would be enchanted by it all and not overwhelmed.

He left her to explore and crossed the room to inspect the wine. The vintage was just as he’d requested, and the bottle had been uncorked, allowing the contents to breathe. He filled a teacup for her with steaming chamomile and poured a glass of wine for himself, smiling at his good fortune. The nymphs with their constant fussing were sure to make Lexi feel at home whenever his duties called him away.

He rejoined his dazzled goddess and handed her the cup. “Try this. You’ll find the potency rivals any vintage in the human realm.”

Lexi appeared to return to herself as she took his offering, and she tapped his glass in a toast. “Here’s to new vintages and choices that make us grateful for their potency.”

Hades chuckled then drank deeply, keeping his gaze on her face. He’d been in the same position before, looking into the eyes of a desirable female and wanting to possess her. But it felt different with Lexi. There was more at stake than a satisfying sexual experience. There was the potential for love. Perhaps, though he scarcely dared to hope, they’d build something potent enough to carry them through eternity.