Page 42 of Gods and Graves

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

THEA

I can’t seem to wrap my head around what I just heard. Maybe the minotaur pushed me a little too hard and I hit my head. Could I be concussed? Perhaps the “bandage” Athena placed on me ripped and I’m hallucinating again. Hearing things.

Because there’s no way in hell Hades is telling me I was once a member of an elite team of supernatural warriors.

That would mean I trained with them. Knew them. Cared for them. Maybe even…

I swallow, though it’s immensely difficult to do with the knot in my throat.

“How is that possible?” Krystian barks.

“We would’ve remembered her,” adds Zaid, though his expression is bleak.

“No,” Rafe simply says, that one word a low, guttural growl.

But Everett, surprisingly, is quiet. There’s a tiny crease between the shifter’s brows.

“We don’t remember a lot of things from our training,” he says softly, his eyes narrowing. “What if one of the memories we lost…was of her?”

“No.” Zaid shakes his head adamantly. “I have memories of the four of us training. Doing drills. Playing card games. Thea doesn’t make an appearance once.”

“Unless someone fucked with our memory of her. For all we know, she could’ve been with us during all of those events, and we just don’t remember,” Everett points out.

“Fuck.” Krystian’s face drains of color, his skin turning almost as white as his hair.

I want to demand answers, ask if there’s a way to receive missing memories, but my tongue feels like a huge, wet cotton ball in my mouth. I can’t speak. I’m paralyzed, a plethora of emotions I can’t name holding me hostage.

“I’ll give you some time to…digest this information,” Hades says, his lips firming. “But tomorrow, I will receive answers.”

He levels a cold, penetrating glare in my direction. I would’ve assumed that the God of the Underworld would have red eyes, like hell fire, or black, like the rocks in the River Styx. The molten silver is somehow more unnerving than anything I’ve seen. They’re so…simplistic. Normal, almost.

Which makes the coldness emanating from them exponentially more terrifying.

“Guards!” Hades snaps his fingers together. “Show them to their rooms for the night.” To us, he says, “We’ll reconvene in the morning. And you will tell me the truth.”

It’s a threat and a warning combined. If we choose to disobey him…

Well…

I imagine we won’t be walking out of this palace alive.

The guys still seem stunned, so I agree for all of us, nodding sharply.

Hades stands and walks gracefully away, moving towards a door directly behind his throne. Before he can reach it, however, it opens, and a petite woman steps through.

While Hades appears as if he’s in his mid-thirties, early forties, this newcomer can’t be older than twenty-five. Despite her youthful appearance, there’s an ancientness in her forest-green gaze, a primitive intensity.

Her rosy cheeks are flushed—almost as if she just ran a mile to get here—and her blonde curls cascade loosely around her shoulders, the top strands braided into an intricate crown that wraps around her head.

She wears a violet dress that hugs her curves, flaring at the waist in a poof of tulle.

She’s beautiful and elegant and staring at the five of us intently.

I narrow my eyes at her.

If this bitch even thinks of making a move on my men…

“Hades.” Her voice is soft. Sweet. Lyrical.

She places a hand on his arm to capture his attention.

Am I mistaken, or do his features soften when he stares down at her? Somehow, that’s even more terrifying to behold.

“Yes, my beloved.” He lifts a hand to rub the backs of his fingers against her cheek in the softest of grazes.

“Let me show our…guests to their rooms,” she says, her voice a near plea. She places her hand over his. “Please.”

Hades hesitates, his eyes searching hers intensely, before he concedes with a nod and a sigh. “All right. You know I can’t resist you.”

She beams and pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Ah. This must be Persephone, Hades’s wife.

What did I hear about her?

That Hades fell in love with her and kidnapped her from her mother, Demeter. Demeter’s grief at losing her daughter is what brought upon the four seasons. Persephone lives with Hades in the Underworld but is able to visit her mother every few months.

The little green monster that always makes an appearance when these beautiful, sexy, flawless goddesses are around my men is appeased, albeit slightly. But if this bitch tries anything…

“Hello! Welcome!” Persephone hurries towards us, her smile widening and tears glittering in her eyes.

I awkwardly wave. “Um. Hello. I’m Thea, and?—”

She pulls me into her arms, smelling of orchids and freshly cut grass.

I hold perfectly still, my hands loose by my sides, and she sniffles then pulls away, holding me at arm’s length. Her verdant gaze sweeps over me, more tears welling.

“Hi! It’s so nice to…meet you!” Persephone gushes.

“Likewise?” It comes out as a question.

“Come, come. Let me show you to the guest rooms.” She links her arm with mine and pulls me out of the room with single-minded determination.

I glance helplessly at the guys as we pass them, wordlessly asking, “What the fuck?”

They don’t have a response for me as they trail along behind us, all seemingly lost in thought. Well, except for Rafe. The psychotic bastard is focused on where Persephone’s arm is linked with mine, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Over my shoulder, I mouth, “Behave.”

He frowns and mouths back, “Make me.”

Umm…yes please. Especially if it involves ropes again.

I turn to face forward as Persephone rattles off random facts about the creation of Hades’s castle and her relationship with him.

She seems…nervous. Or maybe she doesn’t know how to talk to a living being.

My guess is the latter. Spending so much time down here, with only men like Hades and Cerberus for company, would make any person insane.

I tune her out when she starts discussing the difference between thread counts and instead think through Hades’s shocking revelation.

I…was once a member of the guys’ team.

I knew them.

What was life for us like back then? Were we friends?

Lovers? Did I get along with all of them?

Did Everett push every single button I possess?

Did Krystian continue to struggle with his identity?

Was Zaid still shy and sweet, always knowing what I needed before I did? Was Rafe psychotic even back then?

How different would my life—my immortality—be if I’d stayed there?

Sadness wraps around me like a weighted blanket, impossibly heavy.

Whoever is behind this stole not only my future away but the guys’ futures too.

“We need to speak to Ares,” Krystian is saying behind me, his tone uncharacteristically harsh.

“You don’t think he’s behind this, do you?” Zaid asks.

“If he knew about Thea, why wouldn’t he tell us about her?” Everett demands.

“Maybe he got his memories erased too?” Zaid suggests, though he doesn’t sound certain.

“He wasn’t put to sleep like the rest of us,” Krystian points out.

“Unless we lost our memories of Thea before we were put to sleep…” Rafe suggests, his tone low and dangerous.

“Here we are!” Persephone trills, either oblivious to our conversation or choosing to ignore it. She stops between two doors. “I figured you guys would want to remain close together. There’s a door inside that connects the two rooms as well.”

She claps her hands together and rocks back on her heels. I wait for her to say more or retreat, but she simply stands there, watching us with wide, guileless eyes.

The lights are on, but there’s no one home.

Definitely insane.

“Thank you, Persephone,” I tell her gently.

How do I tell a goddess—Hades’s wife, to be exact—to fuck off? Kindly, of course. To kindly fuck off.

“Do you need anything?” She keeps her gaze trained on me. “Pillows? More blankets? Towels?”

“We’re good,” Everett grunts, shoving around her to enter the door on her right.

The others follow, though Zaid lingers behind, unwilling to leave me alone with her. We don’t trust anyone at the moment.

“Oh.” Persephone’s face falls slightly. “It’s just…

It’s just been so long since I’ve been around a living person, you know?

But… But I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know if you need anything.

The guards will come to collect you right away in the morning, so be prepared.

” She stares at me again, her eyes strangely beseeching, but when I don’t say anything to that, she blows out a breath. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you later.”

She seems reluctant to leave, her feet dragging against the carpeted floor. A forlorn sigh escapes her as she disappears around the corner.

I watch her go with a strange pinch in my heart.

“What’s that look for?” Zaid asks softly, brushing his hand down my arm.

“I just feel bad for her,” I confess. “She seems so…lonely.” Then, in a quieter voice, I add, “I know what that feels like.”

Zaid’s expression creases in sympathy, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him.

He presses his lips against my temple. “Not anymore, you don’t. You will never be lonely again, Thea. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

My heart warms at his proclamation, even as familiar tendrils of terror coil around my heart, squeezing it like barbed wire.

“But what if—” I start to ask, wanting to voice one of my deepest fears.

Zaid places a finger against my parted lips. “You. Will. Not. Be. Alone. Wherever you go, we will find you. Can you believe that? Can you believe me ?”

I take in his beautiful face—pale skin, dark eyes, and midnight-colored hair—and find myself nodding.

Yes, I believe him.

How could I not, when he’s staring at me like he’ll pluck the stars from the sky if I asked him to?

And I realize, then, that all the guys would, in their own way.

Zaid would make a deal with Zeus, if that’s what it took.

Krystian would shoot the stars down, refusing to leave my side.