Page 17 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)
His black eyes gleamed with a knowing spark. Mal felt it, a pull towards understanding, but she could not yet grasp the truth he teased.
‘Why do you look like him?’ Her voice cracked on the edge of sorrow.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s cruel,’ she said, gaze hardening. ‘A twisted echo.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of him.’
Thanatos laughed, the sound both bitter and bemused.
‘Are you so certain?’ He licked his lips slowly, deliberately.
A movement that made her stomach tighten.
Her thoughts betrayed her, conjuring up Ash’s gaze, those golden eyes that once devoured her as if she were a fallen star, sent down by the gods to be his and his alone.
‘Perhaps,’ Thanatos said, ‘ he is the one who resembles me .’
From across the room, one of the Moirai gave a derisive snort.
‘Why?’ Mal asked, her brows drawn in confusion.
‘Well, because you—’ Thanatos began, only to be cut off by the Moirai’s sharp hiss, a sound laced with warning.
He merely waved a lazy hand, as if brushing away smoke.
‘No matter,’ he said smoothly, turning his attention back to her.
‘I don’t mind if you think of him when you look at me.
In fact…’ His lips curved, slow and serpentine.
‘I’d quite enjoy reminding you of him. I imagine I could make you scream my name just the same. ’
Mal’s hand curled into a fist. ‘Send me back.’
‘So soon?’ Thanatos drawled, his dark gaze sweeping across her face with slow, deliberate pleasure, drinking in the way her entire frame coiled tight with fury. ‘Are you quite sure you wouldn’t prefer I fucked you on this very table, Melinoe?’
‘Now.’ Mal rose with a scrape of chair legs against stone, dragging it back in a harsh movement. ‘Send. Me. Back. Now.’
‘Oh, stop tormenting the girl,’ one of the Moirai murmured, exasperated.
Thanatos laughed, a rich, echoing sound that filled the chamber like the toll of a funeral bell. He tilted his head, then crossed the space between them with feline grace, his fingers brushing the length of her bare arm. ‘I must say… I do rather like this dress.’
Mal cast a glance downward at the ridiculous garment the High Priestess had forced her into. Layers of white cotton and black lace that resembled a bridal gown more than anything else. It made no sense, and she’d loathed it from the start. ‘Hades insisted I wear it.’
‘I’m sure he did,’ Thanatos said, that infernal gleam igniting once more in his obsidian eyes. ‘Though I suspect you’d look far lovelier without it.’
‘Home,’ Mal snapped. ‘Now.’
Thanatos took a languid step back, hands lifted in mock surrender, though the smirk on his lips suggested anything but. She did her best not to notice how absurdly well the black leather clung to him, how the lines of his body echoed another’s.
‘Do send my regards to my father-in-law,’ he said silkily, leaning in until his mouth hovered far too close to hers.
Mal’s purple eyes widened. ‘Wait, what?’
Thanatos only wiggled his fingers in farewell, delight glinting like mischief incarnate in his stare. Before she could utter another word, the world tilted.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
She landed with a heavy thud upon a table, breath knocked clean from her lungs. Coughing, cursing, Mal sat up sharply to find herself once more in the very dining room where Makaria had slit her throat.
Hades still sat at the table, entirely unbothered, as though not a moment had passed .
Makaria, however, was nowhere to be seen.
‘I assume you’ve met him,’ Hades said mildly, lifting a goblet of wine to his lips, the crimson liquid catching the firelight like blood.
‘Why did you go to the High Priestess and demand they dress me like this?’ Mal hissed, crawling across the table with feline precision until her nose nearly touched his. Her voice was low and dangerous, her fangs bared in warning. ‘Answer me!’
‘I wanted you to look presentable for your wedding day,’ he replied with an insufferable shrug, utterly unbothered.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You can’t possibly object. I even chose someone I thought you might find... attractive. He does bear a certain resemblance to the Fire Prince.’
‘I’m already married!’
Hades rolled his eyes with theatrical annoyance. ‘Melinoe, you are a god. Marriage to a mortal doesn’t count. It was sweet, but meaningless.’ He stood and kissed her cheek. A soft, sudden gesture that stunned her more than any blow could have.
‘You want me to marry Thanatos?’
‘Naturally. Someone will need to rule the Underworld when I’m gone.’
Mal frowned, confusion knitting her brow like storm clouds gathering over still waters.
Why would Hades be gone? He was a god—eternal, immutable—a sovereign of shadows whose dominion was death itself.
The notion unravelled logic at its seams. What reason could he possibly have to abandon his throne, to relinquish a realm stitched so perfectly to his essence?
And why, of all beings, entrust it to her, when he could rule it still with a flick of his immortal will?
‘Let Makaria do it. She’s utterly mad. They’d be perfect for each other.’
‘Makaria lacks the strength you possess,’ Hades replied, his tone shifting to something heavier, laced with intent. ‘But you… your children will be something else entirely.’
The look in his eyes as he said it made Mal recoil. Not from desire, but from something deeper, darker. Beneath the lust for power, there lurked a shadow of fear. Fear of what, she could not say, but it chilled her bones more than any of his schemes ever had.
‘You brought me here just to… to breed?’ Her voice cracked with revulsion. ‘Is that it?’
‘Don’t be absurd. There’s plenty to do before then.’ He waved a hand dismissively. ‘First comes the wedding.’
‘No.’
‘Melinoe…’
‘I said no.’ Her voice rose like a battle cry, her fury sharp enough to cut glass.
‘I am married. And I will not be forced into your sick designs. Choose someone else.’ With a sweep of her arm, she knocked the goblet from the table.
It crashed against the stone wall, shattering into a dozen gleaming shards.
‘I came willingly,’ she spat, eyes burning. ‘But I will find my way back.’
Hades merely laughed, low and cold. ‘You can try.’
Mal didn’t waste another breath.
She ran.