Neon Gods (Dark Olympus #1) - Katee Robert Page 0,72

akin to panic fluttering in my throat. “Don’t leave.”

“Persephone.” He reaches the bed and climbs up to pull me into his arms. “Little siren, I’m not leaving.” It takes some maneuvering to get us both beneath the blankets, but Hades doesn’t stop touching me the entire time. We end up on our sides, him spooning me from the back.

It’s only when I’m fully wrapped up in him that I can breathe again. “Thank you.”

“Where would I go? You’re in my bed.”

I want to laugh, but I can’t. Instead, I stroke my hands down his arms. “But you’re leaving eventually. Or I am, rather.” Eventually, no matter how good this is, it will end.

“Yes.”

I close my eyes, hating how disappointed his answer leaves me. What did I expect? We’ve known each other less than a week at this point. The entire reason I pushed this deal so hard was so that I could be well and truly free. Jumping from an engagement with Zeus into this bargain with Hades… That’s not freedom. I know that, and yet there’s still a strange burning in my eyes at the thought of this being over.

Not yet.

I have a little longer yet, and I plan to enjoy every moment to the fullest.

Chapter 17

Hades

I’m up with the sun. Opening my eyes to find Persephone in my bed does something to me that I’m afraid to examine too closely. I like her here. It soothes me, which is bullshit. I can’t afford to look into her eyes half begging me to stay through the night. She was coming down from the adrenaline rush of scening and sex. Even if we weren’t in my bed, I wouldn’t have left her hanging in that moment.

It doesn’t change the fact that I like seeing her golden hair spread out over a pillow next to mine. And the evidence of her being a restless sleeper, the sheet tangled around her waist, leaving her breasts bare to meet the morning light streaming through the windows. It’s almost enough to make me forget myself and wake her up with my mouth.

Almost.

I look down at my chest, at the mess of scars left from the fire that killed my parents. A memory I can never escape because it’s written on my very skin. With a sigh, I climb out of bed, careful to tuck the blankets up around Persephone so she doesn’t get chilled, and walk to close the curtains. A quick shower later and I’m dressed. I almost head down to my study on the main floor but hesitate. Will Persephone see it as a rejection, as me leaving her? I can’t be sure. Fuck, I shouldn’t care one way or another. No matter how great the sex, we aren’t dating. Forgetting that truth, forgetting the expiration date, is a recipe for disaster.

I keep telling myself that even as I drop into the chair in my barely used desk in the study off the bedroom. A quick check of my phone reveals half a dozen text messages. I scroll through them, stopping at one from Hermes.

Hermes: Mandatory meeting @9. Don’t miss this, Hades. I’m being uncharacteristically serious.

I knew this was coming, though I expected it days ago. I take a deep breath and open the laptop. It takes a few minutes to get everything booted up, but I’m still ten minutes early to the meeting. Unsurprisingly, everyone else is here.

The screen splits into four. One image is myself mirrored back. One is Hermes and Dionysus, who appear to be sitting on a hotel bed and eating Cheetos, still wearing their clothing from last night. The third shows Poseidon, his big, burly shoulders consuming the frame. He’s wearing a pissed-off expression under his red hair and beard, like he doesn’t want to be here any more than I do. The remaining square contains the other eight people who represent the remainder of the Thirteen seated around a boardroom table. Since Zeus is unmarried after the last Hera died, we’re one short.

The thought of Persephone sitting at that table makes me sick to my stomach.

Zeus sits in the center, and I don’t miss the fact that his chair is slightly higher than the rest of them. Even though technically the power lies in the group itself, he’s always fancied himself a modern-day king. To his right is Aphrodite, her skin flawless and her blond hair flowing around her shoulders in carefully curated waves. To his left, Demeter.

I study Persephone’s mother. I’ve seen her before, of