Page 1 of Bride of Death (Netherworld Fae #1)

HADES

“What game are you playing now?” my cousin asks as he collapses onto my favorite couch.

“Why are you here?” I counter, my gaze narrowing at his sudden and very unwelcome appearance in my personal quarters.

This has become a regular occurrence over the last few months.

And I am not pleased.

“You know why I’m here,” he drawls, kicking up his expensive shoes to rest on my table.

A table made of ancient lava rock.

A table that is not made for shoes.

A table that’s meant to be looked at, not touched.

My jaw ticks. “Stop worrying about things that aren’t yours to worry about, Morpheus,” I tell my cousin. “And kindly fuck off.”

He snorts. “Are we truly going to have this conversation again?”

“You’re the one who insists on popping in uninvited every few days to discuss my mate,” I reply as I pour myself a shot of Hellfire.

I don’t offer Morpheus one.

Because he won’t be staying long.

“Go back to your dream world, Cousin,” I murmur. “That’s the only place you’ll ever be safely allowed to indulge in your fantastical ideas.”

“Mmm, dreams. An interesting conversation, that.” He cocks his head to the side, causing his long silver hair to cascade down over one shoulder. “Our mate still thinks you’re a figment of her imagination. Why?”

I still, the Hellfire grazing my lips as I pause mid-drink. “How do you know this?” I ask as I slowly set my drink down on the en-suite bar and give my cousin every ounce of my attention.

Morpheus merely grins. “How do you think?”

I take a step forward. “Stay out of her fucking head.” The words are uttered clearly. Slowly. Precisely . “She is not yours.”

“She’s not yours either,” he tells me, suddenly very serious. Too serious. “She doesn’t even know you exist. Not really. You let her think that first night here was a dream, and you’ve spent the last thirteen fucking months brooding over what to do with your precious little flower.”

My gaze narrows even more, a warning lingering on my tongue.

But my cousin isn’t done.

“I used to find it amusing.” He drops his fancy shoes to the ground and leans forward, his forearms on his knees. “I’m no longer amused, Hades.”

I stare down at him, evaluating. Because that’s a threat underlining those words. A threat I’m not sure I like. “What are you saying, Cousin?”

He gives me a look and stands. “Family terms won’t save you today, Cousin .”

“Save me from what exactly?” I press.

His blue-green eyes swirl with an emotion, one I identify far too closely with. Possession .

Serapina is my Persephone. My long-lost mate. Her soul knows mine, even if the human shell she currently wears feigns confusion. Our kind is destined—an Alpha with his Omega.

The problem is that my cousin seems to think she’s his Omega, too.

“Alphas form circles for a reason,” he tells me as he steps around the table and into my personal space. “I suggest you remember that.”

I arch a brow. “Are you threatening me?”

“Not yet,” he replies, a lethal note underlining his tone. “But I will if you let this progress.” A book appears in his palm, one I recognize as the Netherworld Fae Registry. He slams it against my chest. “Page four thousand and seven. Read it.”

My eyebrows come down. “Why?”

His vibrant gaze captures and holds mine. “Because if you don’t fix it, I will.” He takes a step back. “You have forty-five days, Hades.” He vanishes before I can reply, his essence leaving a permanent aroma in my space, like he’s marked my fucking office.

That is a threat. Just as much as his words. Forty-five days .

“To do what?” I ask the space he just occupied.

Part of me wants to magic the book back to where it belongs in the heart of the Netherworld Village. However, my interest is piqued.

“Fucking Morpheus,” I ground out as I walk over to my desk to set the book down.

I return to the bar to grab my drink, fully aware that I’m going to need it, and take it over to my chair. It faces a slate of mahogany stone, the texture similar to wood yet hard as rock. A unique craftsmanship, one I brought with me from my home realm.

Settling, I stare at the ominous text. The pages are encased in a silky, leatherlike black fabric— netherite . It’s a quality binding, one I’m very familiar with, as I created it.

Smoothing my hand over the skull etched into the front, I find the book’s hard edge and carefully flip it open to reveal the fiery scrawls littering the magically enhanced pages.

Numbers appear at the bottom, sifting before my eyes without actually turning the papers. The book knows what I want—page four thousand seven.

My cousin’s desire becomes clear as the script appears, the red letters revealing a name we both know very well.

Serapina Everheart.

“Lie,” I mutter. But my eyes linger on her false name for only a second before scanning the details scrawling across the page. She’s listed her next of kin as Alina Everheart , which is also false. They’re not related by blood. However, I skip over it and home in on the next line.

A line that has my heart stopping in my chest.

And my blood running cold.

Mate Status: Single.

A growl vibrates my chest and echoes out into my office.

“Single?” I repeat aloud, my voice deep and guttural and furious . “You are not fucking single.”

I suddenly understand my cousin’s threat. He’s giving me forty-five days to fix this .

“ Fuck .”

I’ve given Persephone time to grow into her accommodations and allow her soul a chance to come out to play. She’s an Omega and I’m her Alpha. It’s only a matter of time before she goes into heat and calls for me.

However, it’s been over a year since she arrived in my domain, and nothing has happened.

Nothing except this .

An entry into the Netherworld Fae Registry.

One whereby she’s marked herself as single .

Because she wants to join the Netherworld Kingdom ranks.

My jaw clenches. “And do what, my darling soulmate?” I wonder out loud, my gaze scanning the page once more. “Live in the Netherworld Village?” I huff a humorless laugh. “You have to be joking, love.” That’s no place for a Goddess— my Goddess.

No, this waiting period has lasted long enough. It’s time to act. And I know exactly what move to make.

“By the time I’m through, your mate status will be known by everyone in all the realms,” I promise my soulmate. “Because I’m going to mark you as my fucking bride.”