know what she should do. Hades had caught a mortal with his hand on her face. And though she wanted to explain away what was happening, she really couldn’t. This mortal had reached for her, and she’d allowed him to touch her. She hadn’t even complained.
Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she turned with the mortals to see Hades had stalked up the beach behind them.
She’d never seen him look like this before. While Hades was usually put together, and very well, this time he looked like a mortal man. Sweat slicked his skin and the flat muscles of his bare chest. Dirt streaked his hands and forearms where he’d clearly been working in the earth. He had a few other smudges on his jaw, but it was the muscles of his arms that caught her attention most.
Powerful and flexed in anger, his biceps twitched with every movement he made. He was glorious. A warrior striding off the battlefield to claim his woman from another man.
If she hadn’t been warmed by his presence already, Persephone was certain she would have burst into flame seeing him like this.
Hades wasted no time. “Take your hand off my wife.”
Pirithous might have been mortal, but he had the bravery of a god. “It’s up to her whether she wants me to continue touching her. That decision is not yours.”
She might have been impressed with the mortal’s kindness if she hadn’t known Hades better. He would only take those words as an insult, as though he didn’t respect his wife’s opinions. And Persephone knew he did.
She took a healthy step away from the mortal. “My husband is my first choice. Always.”
Pirithous narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t about to say that. I could see you were willing to return with me.”
Persephone didn’t need to look at Hades to know his expression. She could feel the waves of anger rolling off him like a stormy sea. Words would be said about this moment, but she had a feeling he would not scold her first.
The thunderous sound of his footsteps pounding up the beach was her first warning. Persephone jolted to the side just as Hades pushed past her. He caught Pirithous around the throat and lifted him high in the air. The mortal’s legs dangled wildly as he struggled, though he wasn’t going to best the King of the Underworld.
“You think to steal my wife?” Hades snarled. “What’s next, mortal? You wish for the throne?”
“It might suit me better,” Pirithous croaked.
It was the wrong answer.
Hades let the man’s feet drop into the sand, then dragged him away from the Styx. The snarl on the King’s face was enough to send a shiver down Persephone’s spine. What was he planning?
She knew better than to interrupt. Both she and Theseus raced after them, but no matter how hard she tried to catch up, Hades was always a step ahead of her. On and on they raced behind the struggling man and the enraged god until a throne appeared out of the sand. It rose as though summoned by an unseen hand.
Black and jagged, it differed from the throne Hades sat upon, but it was no less intimidating. The silhouette looked like the open mouth of a beast from the deep, fangs outstretched and waiting for its prey.
Hades hurled Pirithous toward the throne where the mortal fell onto his hands and knees.
“If you think the throne would suit you better,” Hades snarled. “Then take it.”
If the mortal had taken the time to assess the situation, then perhaps he might have saved himself. He would have sensed the ominous nature of the air. He might have understood the danger of the throne itself.
Instead, he was overwhelmed by desire, or perhaps greed. Pirithous lunged toward the throne and sat down with a ragged thump that echoed through her mind.
She waited to see if the throne would leech out all the life from Pirithous. It did not. Instead, she watched his face slowly go slack. All the personality left his body as though it had never been there in the first place. Where once a vibrant, excited, charming man had sat, there was nothing more than the husk of a person.
“What did you do to him?” Theseus gasped. He took a step back, clearly deciding between running or saving his friend.
Hades arm darted forward and his hand latched around the back of Theseus’s neck. “You shall see, mortal. You’re next.”