Pandora struggled to connect Alerion with Hades, even though he sat across the table from her. He didn’t look like Hades, but those mannerisms belonged to him. The slight quirk of his brow when confusion crept in. The perpetual scowl carved into his features. Even the way he steepled his fingers whenever he was deciding how to deliver terrible news.   

It was him, even if her mind couldn’t accept it.     

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Hades—no, Alerion—bent towards her in his seat. He tucked a stray lock behind Pandora’s ear before following the curve of her neck to the strap of her dress.     

Fire ignited her veins as she pressed into his touch. She longed for more. Needed it. When he pulled away, she caught him and held him there. A smirk tugged at his lips, and she yearned to reach out and kiss him.     

He read her mind and cradled her head in his palms. He guided her until he could take what they both craved. His tongue teased hers, sending waves of warmth through her body. She tightened her hold, begging him not to stop. Teeth grazed her bottom lip as he chuckled into her mouth.     

“My darling pixie, if you keep this up, I won’t care about onlookers,” he warned. Green and blue irises sparkled with mischief. “I will drag you over this table and feast upon you until you’re screaming my name.”     

Her cheeks burned scarlet as a flustered gasp escaped her. Pushing his boundaries after so much time apart was not a good idea. Hades rarely seized what he wanted, but the hunger in Alerion’s eyes promised he would.  He was bolder in this disguise.   

“Why now?” she asked.     

The playfulness between them shattered, replaced by unease. He released her and leaned back.   

“Hade…” She stopped herself from uttering his name. Her stomach twisted with fear. His silence terrified her. “Alerion?”     

“I was hoping to enjoy you before getting to the serious part,” he said, chuckling darkly. His palm pressed against her cheek. It was familiar, but the calluses were rougher. She recognized these hands. “I always ask for more than I should.”     

“What is happening?”    

“I love you so much, Pandora. You’ve been my heart and soul since the first moment I saw you.” He sat forward again and touched his lips to  her forehead. “I made another decision without asking you. Don’t hate me. Not yet. Please?”     

Her panic surged. Each heartbeat drove through her like the point of a spear, sharp and unrelenting, piercing deeper until breathing became an afterthought.     

She knew not to trust this. His being here was too good to be true.     

“Alerion,” she warned. Another slice struck her, and her vision wavered. “Please.”    

“My darling, there’s no good way to explain this. I beg you to listen before reacting.” He steepled his forefingers beneath his chin. The illusion unraveled, and Hades looked back at her. He could have broken her heart as Alerion. Instead, he did it as himself. “I am going to impregnate Persephone.”   

Every muscle locked, desperate to suppress her horror. His admission drove through her. It was the final strike that broke her heart in two.  

“What?”   

She jerked away from his touch, unable to bear the searing sensation. She needed distance. Stumbling backward out of the booth, she never took her eyes off him.  

“Why?” Her voice cracked. “Why would you tell me that?”  

“Because I can’t do it if you don’t know first.” His body went rigid. Blue fire crackled across his skin, betraying the turmoil he refused to show. A tremor shook his hands. “Even if you won’t remember any of this afterward.”  

“What does that mean?” she begged.  

“I bargained your memories of me for your freedom.” His features shifted once more until Hades vanished behind Alerion’s face. She knew it was still him, but that only made him feel more like a stranger.  

“You’re a bastard!” The words tore from her throat. “Stop doing this!”    

If she didn’t move, her knees would buckle. She took another step backward and collided with something solid. Athena towered over her, silver eyes fixed on Hades. She had recognized him despite the disguise.  

She fled.    

Neither followed.     

***     

Athena stood at the base of the Sinner’s Club. Lights strobed through the stained-glass windows and projected onto the waiting bodies below. She had exchanged her robes for a fitted, striped suit. Four undone buttons exposed the black-and-brass harness beneath. Twin owl wings clipped into her braided chestnut hair.    

Lucile, the club owner, was a close friend. They were strategists with an eye for opportunity. Two birds of the same feather. Tonight, Lucile was hosting a gathering of powerful female allies, and Athena had every intention of attending.     

The crowd that stood in line regarded her with curious intent. They whispered among themselves. Some with excitement, others with disdain. She was indifferent. If they spoke her name, she could feed on their energy. No publicity was bad publicity, especially in the world of deities. She waved as she stepped through the entrance.    

Preternaturals instinctively moved out of her way. Too scared to approach her, but too awestruck to run. The nymph guarding the rear stairs smiled but remained silent as she opened the curtain. Darkness enveloped her as the thrumming music dulled.    

Only a handful of people lingered on the top floor. Occupants filled four of the ten booths, and a couple watched the bodies below from the balcony.  The rear of the lounge housed Lucile’s office and conference room.  

A commotion at the furthest table drew her attention, and she stopped. She hadn’t sensed it before because her excitement preoccupied her. Pandora’s aura was unmistakable. She paused, her attention drawn to the man facing her. The mask was impeccable, but she’d seen who he truly was.     

Hades.     

With her Champion.    

Pandora had lunged out of the chair as if she were on fire. She  had failed to notice Athena behind her until she stumbled back. Panicked eyes widened. Then she was gone. Hades stayed motionless and tracked her disappearance down the darkened stairs.     

“What have you done, Uncle?”  

***  

The warmth of Persephone’s head on Hypnos’ chest was gentle, her slumbering breaths a soft, heavy sound. Her copper tresses lay tousled on the pillow, with sprigs of baby’s breath entwined throughout. He ran his fingers over her cheek, relishing the silkiness of her skin. She stirred, and he withdrew.     

Gods below, she was gorgeous.     

“I think I love you,” he whispered.     

She was asleep and wouldn’t hear him. He needed to say it before he had to let her go. At least once. He had long ago accepted that she would never be his permanently  

The Fates visited the Underworld yesterday. They presented her with an opportunity to alter her destiny. Hades told him it would come after his first conversation with them. A child would change everything. Her secret desires left no space for him.  

She rolled over, arms encircling his waist, and he put aside his spiraling emotions. He curled into her embrace and drifted into Slumber.     

The summer sun shone above them, heat pounding on the sandy beach beneath him. Persephone lounged on a white lounger. Her bikini left little to the imagination. He savored the moment, admiring each dip and contour of her luscious caramel complexion. A massive hat shaded her face, which had shifted towards him. Those sunset eyes crinkled as she beamed.    

“Took you forever,” she laughed as she sat up.    

“I was marveling at how gorgeous you are when you aren’t talking,” he responded with a smirk.     

“You’re terrible,” she cried, smacking his biceps when he bent down to press a kiss on her forehead. The brim of the hat made the attempt awkward.     

She tilted her face up and captured his lips. This part was tender and slow, a familiar pattern. They pulled apart, flushed and panting.     

“Were you speaking before you came?” she asked as she stroked his hair. He succumbed to the sensation as gooseflesh erupted across his limbs.     

“No, Seph. Just admiring.” If he put it into words, the pain would cripple him. “Always.”     

Her smiles were different now. No anger or defiance. Only radiance that shone brighter than any sun. Soley for him. She never regarded Hades with this amount of…    

Adoration.     

“I’ve missed you,” she said, still stroking his neck. “It isn’t the same without you.”    

“How did your meeting with Hades go?”     

That was a stupid thing to ask. He knew it was. Her face fell, and all that affection disappeared. Nails bit into his skin, and she trembled. He reached for her, but she felt so far.     

Purple hyacinths erupted from the sand, blanketing the ground beneath him. Their bittersweet fragrance clouded his senses, forcing him to retreat a step. A tide of petals surged after him, their rich violet paling as grief washed over the landscape.   

“Persephone,” he yelled, desperately trying to reach her. Waves of flowers held him at bay.      

He descended into darkness as he plunged below the surface. His lungs burned, and his arms ached. Through the onslaught, he spotted her entangled on a bed of thorns. Beads of blood bloomed pink carnations.  

He recognized every bloom; he’d been studying floriography for her.   

Motherhood. Loss. Anguish.    

One after another, their meanings settled over him like stones. If he failed to get to her soon, she’d create a tear in her dreamscape. He’d be incapable of helping her then. She wasn’t his.     

“Snap out of it!” His grip closed around her wrist. He yanked her out of the spiral she had fallen into. She fell into him, shivering and sobbing.      

“I sold him,” she screamed as she clung to him. “He hasn’t even been born yet!”    

Her grip on his shirt dug into the space between his shoulder blades. He welcomed the bite of pain. It grounded him. She was his to comfort, and he was hers to destroy.    

As suddenly as it had shifted, the beach returned. Clouds rolled past a cerulean sky, and seagulls screeched. Sea salt blurred with the tears that crystallized down her cheeks. She collapsed onto her chair and drew in a shuddering gasp.     

“Sorry,” she said as she fixed her bikini. A sheepish look crossed her face. She winked, an ineffective distraction. “Thanks for being my hero.”     

“If you want to talk,” he let the sentence hang when she shook her head.     

“I need your body, not your words.”     

“Of course.”     

He picked her up. Her legs clasped his hips as he settled onto the seat with her on top of him. Heat poured from her, and he nuzzled her throat. Red and orange roses snuffed out the remnants of her outburst. Her lust mingled with his abandonment.     

Their relationship was constantly like this. She claimed what she needed, and he gave her everything until he had nothing left. Sometimes, he went beyond empty. Only for her; always for her.    

One day he would regret this.     

Currently, he wouldn’t allow himself to grieve.     

He would revel in her flesh because her heart would never belong to him.     

And that hurt more than anything.   

Editor: Lucy Cafiero