Page 8 of His in the Dark

HADES

S he’s fucking gorgeous.

My heart races as I stare at her and the pounding in my chest grows louder and louder. The temptation to have her is realized. I’ve never felt such lust before.

Persephone lies on my bed, her pale skin almost glowing against the dark silk sheets. Someone with eyes less sharp than mine could mistake her for dead. That’s how deeply she sleeps. That’s how deeply she had to sleep so she could be brought to me. There was no fight, I was told. Lost in thought and casting a spell, it was the perfect time. Her soul open for the taking.

No time seems to pass while I watch her chest rise and fall, each breath a sign of the life that shines within her like the light of the worlds above. The faint clinking can be heard and I wave a hand to mute it. I need not wake my queen even if she is held there in chains formed from my power.

Faintly I wonder of her concern when she realizes she is bound to the bedchambers. I wonder if her power will allow her to break them, but the thought is quickly relinquished. She is held here by fate. She will not leave until she submits to this reality.

My chambers, already decorated in a dark, opulent scheme, seem even darker with her brightness in it. A deep hum of satisfaction rises in my chest.

When she is asleep, the chains are like shadows around her wrists and ankles. They do not carry weight, they do not have a feel to them whatsoever, but if she were to fight against them, they’d keep her in place. They darken in color when Persephone stirs, my power tightening on her delicate wrists to be sure she does not escape.

Again an odd sensation stirs in my chest, almost like doubt or regret, but how could I doubt her? How could I possibly regret finally having the perfect match to myself?

Persephone stirs again and my breath stills. It’s as if the entirety of the Underworld is holding its breath with me, waiting for her to wake.

A beat of my heart deepens lowly, almost painfully. She will rule them all beside me.

Thump , she is mine. And this world is hers. A gift she mustn’t take lightly.

Thump . Every second she lays there seems an eternity. She must wake. She must agree to submit and accept the honor I have given her. She will be perfect. Even if she fights first, I remind myself, is that not admirable? Does that not add to her allure?

Fuck, my cock hardens, craving the fight. Quietly, I pace back to the window, attempting to rein in the desire that lights its way through my veins.

I have not been able to sit for hours in my impatience. I haven’t felt this alive in years. I have never felt so alive. Because I’ve never had her. I’ve never had a soul so truly mine. My half in this world that I’ve been condemned to. The fates are never wrong. They said I’d have her.

I have her.

I have her.

The thrill is nearly too strong to contain. Only my years of self-control allow me to hover nearby without touching her. She will wake when she wakes and the anticipation is delightful. A feeling I’ve never experienced.

I stalk nearer to the bed, my pulse thundering in anticipation. The sound of my heartbeat drowns out the thick silence in the room. The Underworld is waking for the morning, and I am surrounded by its workings. New souls will be arriving through the River Styx. The dead are at peace in Elysium.

And I am here, waiting for my Persephone, my queen, my wife, my own heaven in this hell. It is much more difficult now that she’s within my sight. That is a paradox I did not expect. I was impatient before, but now I am ravenous for her presence. I crave to see the fear in her eyes. I desire even more so her submission.

My patience was hard-won. I will not rush this process. It has been foretold by fate itself, and I will not intervene.

Not when it comes to her waking, at least.

Persephone sleeps for another stretch, her body relaxing against the sheets. Her poor beautiful soul has no idea. The thought is thrilling. The chains binding her to the bed become translucent in the absence of her movement. When the daylight from the windows touches them, they seem to absorb it, turning the light into indestructible shadows.

The chains will keep her here. My power will keep her here. Her submission will keep her here and yet offer her everything else. Power, the entirety of the Underworld with every pleasure. No longer asking anyone, not even myself, for permission. My cock twitches with the excitement of unleashing her. Of watching what she will do and what will become of those who dare defy her.

I swallow thickly and again a near growl vibrates up my chest. Persephone stirs at the sound and I find myself in a new form of torture. One that offers both delight and despair that I must wait for such things.

I pace around the room, my body demanding movement.

When I arrive at the side of the bed again, Persephone begins to stir in earnest. Her long eyelashes flutter on her cheeks. They are fragile, those thick dark lashes, but they are relentless, wanting to let in the light. She makes a small sound deep in her throat. It sounds like an unconscious protest against waking.

Fuck, every little detail of her is divine. Her gorgeousness lost on all the worlds. I give gratitude that she is mine.

Grateful that she will rise.

In my kingdom.

Here, with me, where she will stay forever. Possessiveness lights my blood aflame and the embers of fire dance in the ashes of the fireplace on the far end of the room. Quickly I extinguish them with a wave of my hand. My magic and powers barely contained.

The room itself lacks warmth from the action and I watch as the chill greets her fair skin and she shivers, pulling the sheets up higher as if they can protect her.

My heart has barely settled from the satisfaction of Persephone’s arrival, but now it races faster.

Open your eyes, I order her silently. Open your eyes and let me see into the darkest parts of you…and the brightest. Let me see all of you.

I nearly raise my hand, I nearly make it a command. But I resist. I mustn’t control her. The Fates have warned and being so close to having what has plagued me in loss for centuries, the warning hisses in the back of my mind.

There is so much more to see. I am sure that beneath her smooth, creamy skin, a heart like none other beats. The thin gown she wears tumbles over her thighs, pushed up in her sleep. I do not touch the fabric, though I want to.

She will never know of this torture, none can conceive what stirs within me.

With a steadying deep inhale, I attempt to control the desire. It is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. In fact, it is beyond desire—it’s lust. A deep, unquenchable lust that renews itself like the souls in my kingdom. There are always more souls, and I will always want her more and more and more until I cannot want her any more.

I have not approached that limit. I haven’t even come close. There is only my self-control left, and once I let go of that?—

There will be nothing to hold me back.

Because she’s here .

In my possession.

She’s mine.

At that thought, Persephone’s eyelids flutter open, wide and full of shock.

Thump. Her heart beats with mine, both heavy, both of us still apart from the strain of blood rushing through our veins.

And so it begins.

I’m desperate to touch her, and I do not feel desperation often. I wrap the helm of darkness around me, and it covers me in a void that swallows all the light, rendering me invisible. It is almost a living thing, an extension of myself. More an echo of my power than a tool. Within the darkness, I have control.

I command everything about her life now.

Can she feel it, even as she wakes? Can she feel the depth of my control?

Wrapped in darkness, I approach the side of the bed.

Her pale blue eyes are wide and steadily watch me, although her body remains still. Panic drifts from her frail body. Fuck, the power she gives me in this moment is heady.

If not fueled by fear, I would drink it in.

“Persephone,” I murmur, tasting her name. Uttering it out loud for her to hear what it means to me. Her mouth rounds into a shocked o. She gasps, then bites down on her lip, attempting to control herself. The sheets rustle as her fist tightens around the cloth.

Her self-control is nonexistent in comparison to mine. Persephone is a lovely thing. Young in the world of the Gods. Pure. Untouched. No matter how much she wants to rein herself in, she will not be able to do it for long.

I relish the idea of breaking her. Of teaching her the art of control.

I relish it even more against this display—against her attempt to have some power, even as she lies in chains forged from my power.

Does she feel them yet? What thoughts ravage her mind in this moment?

Donned by my cloak of darkness, I can watch her all I want and she will not even know where I am.

Persephone’s eyes circle the room, then swing toward me. Her mouth presses into a thin line, what was fear morphing into anger.

Goosebumps run down my spine. Persephone cannot see me, not with my cloak removing sight from all those in my wake. But she seems to feel me, and a fire in her eyes makes me feel that she can see through the darkness and straight into my soul.

I want her to know she is looking at me. I want her to know exactly where she is, and who has possession of her now.

Still, I wait. As she rises, Persephone tugs at her bonds, her lips firming even more. Her body trembles a moment as she tests her ankles, making her gown ride up another few inches on her thighs. I want to lean down and kiss that newly exposed skin. I long to mark her with my teeth.

Instead, I drop the darkness that surrounds me, the hood falling back and the vision of myself forming in front of her in a single heartbeat.

This time, her gasp is much louder. Persephone’s mouth falls open in her shock, only making my cock harder. Color floods her cheeks. It’s a beautiful combination of surprise and anger, and the flush of her skin mirrors the heat within me.

Her body stiffens as she pulls back against the bonds that tie her to my bed.

I’ve never been more delighted at the defiance in someone else’s eyes. Never . It’s so bright, like a flame, and I want to feed it, to test it until I pinch it out between my thumb and forefinger. And I will pinch it out. She will be mine. She burns at my command.

But she burns with her own fire, as well. As sweet as Persephone may turn out to be, as submissive as she will one day find herself, she has strength inside of her. She has will , like the many forces of nature.

Her eyes locked on mine, Persephone pulls hard at the bindings at her wrists and ankles. She grits her teeth and yanks harder, the magic darkening and increasing its hold. The sounds she makes are addictive. They grow softer as she realizes that the magic will not release her.

Persephone gives one more hard tug, her delicate muscles straining and her face growing red, then lets her arms fall to the blankets, breathing hard.

I can’t help it, I show my delight with an upticked pull at my lips.

“Stop it!” she shouts. “Let me go! My father-”

“Your father will not intervene.”

“Yes, he will!” she screams. “You will regret this!”

“He will not. You are to be my queen,” I murmur, displeased at the hint of what came before me earlier returning. The concern, the doubt. I must extinguish it before it creeps and buries itself into something else. I keep my voice level, though the words are as good as a promise. It hangs in the air between us like the magic of the chains. She does not understand fully, yet, but she will. This is my kingdom, and she will rule with me.

“Let me go ,” she insists, her eyes sweeping around her, the strength dimming so very quickly. Fight me, Persephone , my plea is unspoken and yet, the powerful Goddess stirs weakly, searching for an escape but she will not find one.

“As if you have anywhere to run.”

Persephone glares at me. “Then why chain me?”

Again a smirk threatens but I resist. I hesitate.

If they know she is here, Zeus might intervene. Considering the state of our last conversation and what I’ve done in the cloak of the night. I do vaguely wonder if he’s aware yet. And if not at this moment… when. And if he were to intervene, he will not do so alone. It’s not his way to approach without several other powers at his back. Zeus is known for playing his little games, and he keeps his people close.

He might gather a few more to his cause and come for Persephone.

As my thoughts race and I debate on what to allow her to know, she lets out a scoff that drips with frustration and disgust, her eyes burning into mine.

Persephone is smart enough to know that Zeus could come from her. It’s as if she’s reading my mind. Looking into the future workings of my plans.

I saw that anger in her, and that defiance. Now I see her quick mind and her cunning. Fucking beautiful, if not deadly.

Yet, she’s already broken.

She blinks slowly, then stares at the ceiling, her eyes sparkling with tears. I do not think they are tears of despair. Not yet. They are tears of rage.

I reach for her wrist.

She draws her hand to her chest and then flings it out as if to strike me.

I catch her wrist as if it is nothing—it is nothing—and hold it halfway between us, my eyes locked on hers and her tension radiating through me. The heat of her skin on mine is electric. The fire raging between us. Persephone’s breathing quickens. Her glare is like a torch, bringing fire into the shadows at my core.

Does she feel this too? The heat that dances between the tension. Her eyes boring into mine and mine to hers. She pulls away, and it’s then I realize just how little power she has.

Every heave of her breath rings in my ears.

I tighten my fingers around her wrists.

Persephone gasps, her lower lip dropping ever so slightly, fear reflecting in her eyes. This is only a prelude to my true strength, and that gasp is only a prelude to the sounds I’ll draw out from her.

“Your magic is weak,” I tell her, keeping my eyes firmly on hers. She could close her eyes in an attempt to shut me out. She could try to look away, but she doesn’t.

“It’s not weak,” she snaps, her voice cracking with defiance. “It’s as strong as yours. Your chains prove nothing.”

It’s not her words that strike me, but her bravery. I smirk at her, unflinching.

“Weak,” I repeat.

“I’m not.” Her voice drops. “I’m not . You don’t know what I can do. You don’t know me.”

A huff of a laugh leaves me. I know everything about her. I’ve watched her for years now. Pined for her, obsessed with her.

“Show me your power,” I command as I release her and take a step back, “Free yourself.”

Her eyes narrow. After a beat, she turns her face away. A pain I haven’t felt before is sharp in my chest.

Of course she could not free herself. If she had that power, she would have done so already.

I reach forward with my other hand on her chin, I turn her face back to mine.

“Your power is weak,” I coax. “But I will help you.”

My whispered promise flashes in her eyes. I can practically see her thoughts change before me.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“Hades, Lord of the Underworld and your taker.”

Her breath seems to leave her. “I will aid you and your powers,” I promise her, allowing my admission to sink in.

“In exchange for what?” she whispers although she already knows.

Persephone is no fool. She knows that nothing in the Underworld comes without a cost.

I lean closer. Her eyelashes flutter. When my breath kisses her cheek, her body arches toward me ever so slightly.

“If you submit.”

Persephone sucks in a shallow breath. She cannot know that her body arches toward me more with every moment that passes.

The tension steals my breath as much as it is stealing hers. It would be a matter of a moment to lean down and capture her mouth with mine. I let her feel the closeness growing taut between us, alive with heat.

And still she fights.

All she would have to do to submit is to lay down her arm. All she would have to do is stop pushing against me. It is the most delicate fight.

And yet she resists.

“Submit to me,” I tell her. It is an order. Anyone else in the Underworld would know it for what it was, but Persephone bares her teeth.

“Never.” Her voice is cold. “I will never submit.”

It takes great restraint on my part to do nothing, because I want to kiss the pulse at her wrist, but I turn my back on her and stalk away.

Persephone does not call after me.

The silence stretches between us, charged with the tension of her every breath.

I can feel that tension behind me and within me—the heat of her defiance—but I ignore it and throw the windows open. Her powers… she will need time to regain them.

Time. Patience, I remind myself.

Cold from outside gusts in. The icy cold dispels the heat on my face.

It will do far more lovely things to Persephone’s body.

I inhale the fresh air and let the cool fill my lungs.

Then I turn and leave the room, leaving Persephone exposed to the frigid chill of my absence and the assurance that the room will turn cold as ice.

I will force her to need me. I will force her powers to return as well.

I do not crave her weak. I demand that she be mine as promised. The powerful queen by my side.