jealousy, now that he was beyond the anger and the challenge last night had posed to his sense of control.
“Don’t pretend you don’t get jealous, Hades. Adonis kissed me last night.”
Hades slammed his glass on the table, betraying himself, and twisted toward her. “Keep reminding me, goddess, and I’ll reduce him to ash.”
“So, you are jealous!” she cried.
“Jealous?” he hissed, stalking toward her. He watched as the excitement of her triumph melted from her face, replaced by an expression he could not discern. He only knew it was not fear. “That…leech touched you after you told him not to. I have sent souls to Tartarus for less.”
He paused a few inches from her, his anger acute, radiating off him like the heat from Helios’ sun.
Until she uttered an apology.
The words fell from her mouth, quiet and breathy. “I’m…sorry.”
He was not sure why she was apologizing, but those words seemed misplaced on the heels of his speech about Adonis.
His brows knitted together, and he cupped her face, stepping closer, sealing the space between them. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not for him. Never for him.”
She covered his hands with her own, and as he searched her eyes, full of kindness and compassion, he felt a little of that fury dissipate and couldn’t help asking, “Why are you so desperate to hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly.
He could not sense the lie, but he could not reconcile why she would write that article about him, not when she did not hate him. He tore away from her.
“No? Shall I remind you? Hades, Lord of the Underworld, rich one, and arguably the most hated god among mortals, exhibits a clear disregard for mortal life.”
As he spoke, she seemed to cower, shoulders rising, growing smaller and smaller beneath her own viscous words.
“This is what you think of me?” he challenged.
“I was angry—”
“Oh, that is more than obvious,” he barked.
“I didn’t know they would publish it!”
“A scathing letter illustrating all of my faults?” He paused to laugh bitterly. “You didn’t think the media would publish it?”
She had used the article as a threat, knowing Hades valued his privacy. She was well-aware that it would be a coveted piece to the media, and yet, there was something troubling about her defense, and that was that he sensed no lie. Still, if she truly meant for it not to go live, why did she write it? And how had it gotten published?
His sarcasm did not win him any compassion from the goddess. Her eyes flashed, and her words slipped from between barred teeth.
“I warned you.”
“You warned me?” Hades raised his brows and offered a breathy laugh. “You warned me about what, goddess?”
“I warned you that you would regret our contract.”
They were words he remembered, spoken as she had straightened the lapels of his jacket and killed the flower in his breast pocket. He had no doubt then, and he had no doubt now.
“And I warned you not to write about me.” He dared to close the distance between them again, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, knowing that their anger only had one outlet.
“Perhaps in my next article, I’ll write about how bossy you are,” she threatened.
“Next article?”
“You didn’t know?” she asked smugly. “I’ve been asked to write a series on you.”
“No.”
“You can’t say no. You’re not in control here.”
He would show her control, he thought, bending into her body, feeling the way she arched with him. She was a viper, responding to his call, and when she struck, it would be venomous.
“And you think you are?”
“I’ll write the articles, Hades, and the only way I’ll stop is if you let me out of this godsdamned contract!”
So that was her game?
“You think to bargain with me, goddess?” he asked. “You’ve forgotten one important thing, Lady Persephone. To bargain, you need to have something I want.”
Her eyes sparked, and her cheeks turned rosy again.
“You asked me if I believed what I wrote!” she argued. “You care!”
“It’s called a bluff, darling.”
“Bastard,” she hissed.
It was the word that broke his restraint. He dragged her against him, burying his hand in her hair, and his lips closed over hers. She was soft and sweet, and she smelled like him. He wanted all of her, and yet, he pulled away, separating by mere inches.
“Let me be clear,” he said fiercely. “You bargained, and you lost. There is no way out of our contract unless you fulfill its terms. Otherwise, you remain here. With me.”
She stared up at him, eyes