“And you expect me to believe that you’ll be okay with that?” I demand.
His expression tells me he won’t be okay at all. Yet, aloud, all he says is “Serapina’s needs are my priority. She wants you in the labyrinth. So I’ll grant you entry.”
I study him, noting the stiff lines of his shoulders and the not-so-subtle tic in his jaw.
He doesn’t want to accept me into his circle, let alone into the maze. But he’s putting Serapina’s comfort before his own.
As a good Alpha should.
“Will you come with me?” Hades asks, a note of exhaustion in his tone. “She needs to be properly cared for. And I trust you to succeed where I’ve failed.”
That’s not an apology. But for Hades, it’s pretty much the same thing.
“Where will you be while I ‘care’ for her?” I use his term, though we both know there’s another meaning behind the word.
“I’ll… I’ll either control my urges or lock myself up.”
A snort escapes me. “Control is impossible when your mate is in heat and releasing her mating call.” I take a step toward him, curious about whether he’s even thought this through. “Do you know what I had to do every time Persephone fell into an estrous cycle?”
The way he looks at me tells me he doesn’t know at all, that he probably hasn’t even considered that aspect of my plight.
“I felt the pain today watching her with Maliki,” he grits out. “I can handle it.”
I laugh humorlessly. “Oh, Cousin, that’s only a fraction of the agony you’ll experience. And you were able to watch, which would have taken out some of the sting as well.”
Fuck, I would have loved to observe Hades and Persephone during even just one of her cycles. It would have hurt, yes. But simply knowing my mate was taken care of properly would have soothed some of the burn.
“You’ll be a slave to her call when the time comes, Hades. Knowing someone else is there to care for her won’t be enough. Our beasts live to serve our mates. To not be allowed or accepted to do so is the most agonizing form of punishment you could ever imagine.”
He doesn’t respond right away, his gaze assessing. “If that’s true, then how did you keep yourself from misting to Persephone’s side?”
I smile, but it’s not a kind grin. It’s one born of exquisite pain. “Ares helped me.”
Hades’s nostrils flare.
It doesn’t take much thought to understand what I’m telling him.
Still, he utters the translation aloud by saying, “You spent time in Pandora’s Box.”
“Yes.” I don’t elaborate beyond adding, “It was the only place that could throttle my abilities.”
He has the grace to glance away, his throat working to swallow.
Whether that’s a response to his pending fate or a sign of guilt, I’m not sure. Something tells me it’s the former more than the latter.
Hades will never apologize for claiming Persephone. She was his.
But perhaps he’ll have more compassion in regard to Serapina. Or at least understand why I refuse to go through that agony again.
He clears his throat. “I suppose it’s my due.”
“Is it?” I wonder aloud. “Because of how you’ve treated Serapina?”
Rather than acknowledge my question, he says, “I need to rewrite the maze barrier, then you’ll be able to enter. It won’t take me long.” He starts to mist, but I grab his arm.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him.
The look he gives me expresses extreme discomfort with that idea.
