He ran his hand over the neck of the hound beside him.
As if on cue, Tantalus, carrying a jug, approached Cerberus’s side and offered him a cup of nectar. Cerberus waved him away, and Tantalus moved on to the next guest.
The celebration would continue for seven days more until Persephone, his queen, returned to the Underworld and retook her place at Hades’s side.
Cerberus scanned the ballroom for his lord but didn’t find Hades amongst the growing crowd. He gave his hound one last pat and stepped back into the deeper shadows.
There he patrolled the party without being seen.
His canine companions prowled alongside him, always keeping a watchful eye on the individuals near the gates. No being, neither god, immortal, or undying could leave Tartarus without his knowledge and consent. Although, some could come and go as they pleased with contracts already in place. Though most of those who preferred the dark rarely left. But during the weeks before Queen Persephone’s reappearance, the undying often came and went.
He hated this time of year.
He wouldn’t be celebrating. He never celebrated with the others. His job was unending, eternal. He knew if he let his guard down, even for a moment, the gods and undying supplicants would know—they eyed him back with uncanny, devious intent.
Lord Hades had much in his kingdom that they desired. The souls of the dead only ended up in one place, regardless of their affiliation in life, and even gods detested losing their toys when they were not yet done with them.
Across the room, Hades appeared in a muted flourish, ignored by all but Cerberus, and sat on his throne. Cerberus stepped from the shadows again in solidarity for his lord. They shared a knowing nod. His lord was atop a slate and obsidian dais, seated on a thin, elongated throne that sharpened like needles at the top. Pieces of it glistened beneath the candlelight glow. Hades, in his dark majesty, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a cup appearing out of darkness to hang from the tips of his fingers.
The throne beside him sat empty—except for the dead and withered flowers strewn on and around it.
Despite their difference in station, they were one and the same, having been by each other’s sides for eons.
A woman dressed in black veils walked his way, drawing his attention. “Oh sweet Cerberus, must you hide from me?”
He bowed his head and did not meet the goddess’s eyes. “I do not hide to spite you, Melinoe.”
She smiled, beautiful and grim. Her hair, white as winter frost, faded in and out of her body as it swayed without a breeze. “My lord father has worked you hard. Spite or not, will you dance with me this year?”
Cerberus scanned the crowd above her head. “I do not dance, Princess.” And if he did, it would never be with her. Especially one as forbidden and horrid asher. Melinoe was one of the few that plagued his life, his eternal duties, day in and day out.
She plagued everyone. His mind warped painfully just knowing she looked at him.
He glanced her way. Sadness filled her eyes, but they didn’t affect him. Disgust, like always, crept over his flesh.
“Not even if I owe you a favor in return?” She faced the room of immortals. “No one will dance with me, and I have asked.Asked.A goddess born of a lord.” Melinoe turned back to him.. “You are my father’s servant. You cannot refuse me, Cerberus.” She reached out to take his hand, but he drew it away.
“I’m on guard.”
“Will you not even look at me?” she asked softly.
He refused. Instead, he caught the eyes of Hades from across the room.
Cerberus left Melinoe without answering her. He crept along the perimeter of the ballroom as he made his way toward the dais. The sound of the goddess’s cry followed him until he heard her run from the room. The immortals snickered in her wake. The fact that he never laughed like the others was the reason Melinoe thought he was her friend.
He had no friends. He didn’t want them.
He finished his circuit and approached Hades, who sipped nectar with hooded eyes. Cerberus moved to stand at his left side, not deigning to bow.
“The last night before the celebration begins,” Hades mumbled, lowering his drink. “Have you encountered any mischief?”
Cerberus’s lip twitched. “All is well.”
“What a shame. I see Melinoe pursues you still.”
“She will not be a distraction.”
Hades laughed low. “Very well. With what I have planned, such a boring distraction will not be worth it.”
