It occurs to me this is all I’ve ever wanted, this excruciating pleasure that tilts toward pain and back. The power coursing through me is primal, all earth and fire, some spell that Dinlas has cast on my body.
His smile sends a sudden rush of heat through my body. I let the sensation ebb and give him my hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. We are standing uncomfortably close, neither of us moving, just looking at each other.
“Alright, Bluebeard,” she quipped. “Telling the witch not to go somewhere is just going to make her want to look.” Her expression shifted as her eyes met mine, from mirth to reverence. “You have my word. I understand what sacred space means, Hades. I will not violate yours.”
It strikes me fully for the first time that this god I thought I knew, this known quantity, is more of a stranger to me than I realized. I’ve dealt with the King for most of our immortal spans. This is Hades.
Zeus walking away from his duty is almost as foreign to me as me walking away from mine. And yet, he did. The Bolt lies next to me as a reminder that all things change. I simply am unable to see how much, thus I will walk for him until he is healed.
The moonlight is a little too familiar tonight, the way it touches my face, caresses my mind. It summons the memory I want — the same one that stirred when Hades kissed me. The one that woke when I kissed him.