Page 33 of A Goddess Unraveled (Olympus Rising)

The imposing iron gates swung closed behind him as he took the enchanted path leading home. The number of arriving souls had been steady, with only a handful needing to be rounded up as they tried to escape into the darkness.

Hades had had enough of Thanatos’s brittle wit and discomfiting methods for one day, having long ago given up on softening the god of death’s abrasive manners. He slipped his hands into his robe, contentment sweeping over him as the foliage adopted the colors of autumn.

For nearly two seasons, Hades’s heart had felt lighter than usual after a day’s work. The weight of greeting hundreds, sometimes thousands, of souls didn’t linger as long, dogging him until he laid his head down or drowned in too many glasses of scotch. Not to mention the monotony.

Now he had a sounder reason to hurry home than a silk-lined pillow or bottomless liquor cabinet, and this thought put a spring in his step as he left the path to follow the tree line north.

He kept his gaze on the western horizon, hoping to catch a glimpse of the source of his contentment, and when he saw her in the distance, riding bareback on one of his horses, he stilled for a moment, his chest feeling like it might open and release an explosion of blossoms.

Hades watched the young goddess, her hair waving like grains of wheat under a golden sky, commanding the horse as if she’d been born to do it. Even without a saddle, the auburn beauty rode with poise and confidence, wearing her self-assurance like a longsword, exercising her godly nature with ease.

Since joining Hades in the underworld, this particular goddess had demonstrated her intense spirit—testing his stamina and reminding him of his youth—and he gave daily thanks to Gaia for placing her in his care.

Her family had taken her departure rather poorly, but he’d expected as much. They had kept her too close, protected her from anyone or anything that might lead her away from the path they’d chosen for her. Ultimately, she’d chosen her own path, although under duress, and Hades refused to entertain the possibility that her conscience—or any guilt she felt—might one day become a burden to her.

There were marvels in the underworld that rivaled anything she could find in Olympus, and Hades had only begun to show her these wonders. His biggest challenge would be keeping her happy while fulfilling his duties as god of the underworld, a task he rarely received a reprieve from.

The underworld gods had been welcoming, as they should; Hecate with her motherly wisdom, Thanatos’s grim humor. Of course, there was Melinoe, who often used her position to pop into the palace during mealtime. The goddess of nightmares always made sure conversations were awkward and exhausting. He was still waiting for her to reveal more of their private affairs and had to assume she’d been holding back solely to keep him on edge.

Still, like a seedling blessed by Demeter, Hades knew this bright young goddess, the focus of his waking thoughts and the subject of his dreams, was destined to flourish regardless of the conditions. He could already see her powers flowering under his domain. He simply needed to nurture her, a job he desperately hoped he was equipped to do.