While he thought it over, I took a bite of honey cake and almost groaned at the sweetness. It was so good after endless days of stew.
“I have many favorites. My current, though, would be that only I can provide your nourishment. To see you lick your fingers like that…” His heated gaze held mine. “Speak my name and yield to me what is mine.”
I stopped licking my finger and picked up another bite of cake.
“And your least favorite?”
The heat left his gaze.
“You seek a new way to torment me.”
Pity flooded me, but I knew denying it wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t believe me anyway.
He looked down at his plate, and I saw his food for the first time. The small block of golden cream wasn’t a honey cake and glittered slightly in the light. He noted my attention and picked up the square, lifting it toward my mouth.
“Eat. Renew yourself. You tire too easily.”
“What is it?” I asked, not leaning forward to take a bite.
“Has it been so long that you no longer recognize ambrosia?”
I looked at the square again, noting the way it gave a little under the pressure of his fingers. It looked so simple. Denser and more golden than a marshmallow. That was the food of the gods said to be the source of their immortality?
“I would like to keep eating the honey cakes.”
He gave me a disappointed look but nodded before eating the little square himself. His already enhanced perfection magnified. It wasn’t that there was any one thing that changed. Yet, his inner source of power that called to me in the first place felt even stronger.
I had to take a few steadying breaths then force myself to look away and focus on something else.
“Last night, you said this room will stay as it is today. Did you mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Would you mind making a few more changes for my comfort?”
“I will provide you with what you desire.”
As soon as we finished eating, I explained the concept of a water closet. He made a waist-high mini shower that drained into a basin after listening to my description of a sink. The toilet he created wasn’t as great, but it was a step up from using the pot, and I thanked him for it.
“If I’ve truly given you what you desire, then thank me with your body.”
I shut the door in his face.
From just outside, he mumbled about hating and loving the games that I played. The hating part was a sentiment we shared. Because of the twisted games that he and Persephone had played, Hades was a mess, one she’d left behind that I needed to deal with. And I didn’t understand him well enough to do so safely.
He seemed calm enough for now, but how long would that last? While I used the primitive toilet and sink, I debated how badly I wanted to shower. Not badly enough to risk upsetting him more since it seemed like everything I did led to some kind of suffering for Hades, intentional or not.
When I opened the door, he stopped his pacing and turned toward me. The way his gaze kept shifting to my arm had me looking down. The bangle from last night hugged my bicep. It gleamed in the torchlight, and I had no doubt it was real gold. Never having worn anything of that much value before, I reached up to touch it.
“Do not remove it,” he said.
I hadn’t intended to, but the warning in his tone made me nervous.
“Why?”
“If you truly wish the contract to end, my gift must be openly worn for a month. You know this.”
“Even when I shower? I don’t want to do anything to wreck it.”
