Right.
Because the cave-like entrance is riddled with magic, one that masks Hades’s cavern as an impenetrable landscape. All Sera would have been able to see was a beach framed by massive white cliffs.
And we just walked through one of those cliffs.
“It’s a spell that protects Hades’s hiding place in this realm,” I explain as I follow him down a rocky corridor. “Humans can’t see the entrance. We also just crossed through one of those veils like in Death’s Palace, so we’re heading to Hades’s personal wing.”
Which means Morpheus and the others won’t be able to follow us. But I don’t add that part as it should already be implied.
Hades is very particular about whom he allows into his space. I’m pretty sure Sera understands that already.
He leads us into a modern kitchen with dark marble countertops and an enchanted refrigerator.
“That’s no ordinary fridge,” I tell Sera as I gesture to the appliance with my chin. “You just touch the handle, and inside, it’ll create whatever you desire. Then you simply open the door and take out your meal of choice.”
The contraption—along with this entire cavern and all the magical wards surrounding it—was created by Hades and his powerful manifestation ability.
But I don’t tell Serapina that part. It’s not my place to explain Hades’s gifts to her.
The God in question glances back at me with an arched brow. “Are we giving a tour?”
“Are we staying here long?” I counter.
His jaw tightens, and he resumes walking without acknowledging or responding to my query.
It’s not like Hades to keep me in the dark. Not when it involves one of my tasks, anyway.
But I’m feeling oddly out of my element here.
Orcus arriving with his mate-circle suggests that some sort of plan was triggered—a plan I’m not familiar with.
Which indicates that I wasn’t factored into whatever is happening right now.
As for Morpheus, either his penchant for eavesdropping paid off, or he showed up here because he’s connected to Sera’s soul.
What I care about more iswhywe are here. As well as the comments regarding Sera’s heat.
I assume Sera feels similarly. Perhaps even more so.
So as we enter Hades’s loft area—one that leads to his bedroom—I say, “Sera needs answers, Hades. And so do I.”
He doesn’t acknowledge my demand, just continues toward his room.
And into the adjoining bathroom.
My gaze narrows when he opens a bespelled cabinet to pull out two fresh towels. When he sets them on the double-sink counter, he turns toward me and says, “Bathe Serapina. We’ll talk when I return.”
Hades vanishes before I can question him. “Cryptic arse,” I mutter.
“I don’t understand anything that’s happening,” Sera whispers. “I’m going into heat? We’re in the Human Realm? Alphas arehuntingme?” She phrases everything as a question, her eyes rounding more and more with each inquiry.
“You’re not the only one who is confused,” I admit, irritated. Not with her, of course. But with Hades.
“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Morpheus offers from the doorway behind me.
My eyebrows shoot upward. “How did you make it through the wards?”
He merely smiles. “I’m a God, Maliki. You would be amazed by what I can do.”
