back. “Let me go, you bastard!”
All around, my vines waved in the air—responding to my distress, no doubt, because I certainly wasn’t controlling them. I wanted to. I wanted to use them to grab Hades and toss him into the air.
But I couldn't. Not after the way I’d just lost control.
Still, the vines seethed around us, a threatening dance of death that made a shudder run down my spine.
A low growl sounded from Hades’ throat. He had one arm wrapped over the back of my thighs like an iron bar, but he lifted the other. It was impossible to see from my position flung over his shoulder, but I could just imagine him with his arm outstretched toward the plants, his hand wrapped in thin black leather. The plants would obey him, even though they were mine. He could control objects with his mind, and they would be no different.
He’d done the same when he’d commanded the night wolves and when he’d forced boulders aside to save our lives at the Temple of Shadows.
All around, the vines began to drop, docile and calm as they curled up on the ground.
“Stop controlling my plants.” I tried punching him in the kidneys—or at least, where I thought the kidneys were. He didn’t so much as budge.
“You certainly can’t be trusted with them,” he rumbled.
Well, that was true. But still, I didn’t like him controlling what was mine.
“Put me down,” I demanded.
“I have no idea why you think I would ever listen to you.”
“I’m going to get you for this, you bastard.”
“No, you aren’t.” He turned and strode back toward the castle.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But you’re still a fledgling god and no match for me.”
I hissed, so angry that I couldn’t get so much as a word out.
His long strides ate up the ground, and my stomach bounced painfully against his huge shoulder, reminding me of all I’d suffered the last two weeks. I punched him again, getting nothing but sore knuckles in return.
He stopped at the back door to the castle, and I gave the garden one last look. The sight of the massive, coiled vines sent a shiver down my spine.
I’d nearly killed Lucifer with those vines.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Hades yanked open the castle door and strode inside. He took a convoluted route through the castle, making so many turns that I lost track. Every step made me angrier, and by the time we reached another door, I was a seething mess of rage once again.
He swung open a door and set me on the ground, then stepped back. With horror, I realized that I stood in a dungeon.
A dungeon.
3
Hades
Seraphia stood in front of me, so beautiful that it hurt to look at her. Humans described looking at the setting sun to be painful yet glorious, an agony worth suffering for a glimpse at incredible beauty.
It had to be like staring at Seraphia.
It wasn't just the alignment of her features or the glow of her skin, the sweep of her hair or the curve of her form. It was something that shone within her, and I couldn’t identify it.
The memory of her pressed against me burned, an inferno that had imprinted itself against my flesh. I wanted to shake the feeling away, peel the skin off if I needed to.
It weakened me, this insane obsession.
She crossed her arms and glared. “This isn’t my room.”
I raised a brow, resisting looking away from her. “You forfeited that room when you ran away.”
“Of course I ran away, you bastard.”
“Well, there will be no running now.” I stepped back, needing the space from her, and reached for the door handle. “Unlike last time, this door has a lock.”
“A lock?” Shock echoed in her voice.
“I’ve neither the time nor the desire to chase you.” Lie. I had the desire to chase her across worlds, and I hated it. “Therefore, you will remain locked in this room until we come to an agreement.”
She huffed out a breath, staring at me with such fiery anger that it lit something inside me as well. Her scent wrapped around me, floral and fresh, reminiscent of things I’d never seen. Never cared to see.
Until her.
“Don’t look so pleased,” she said. “Just because your little plan to drag me back here worked.”
“Pleased? You put a hole in my stomach when you left.”
“I didn’t leave. I escaped. And you were collateral damage. Which I’m fine with, by the way.”
That might hurt if