Her cheeks heated, retort dying on her tongue as he watched her struggle. No one had ever spoken to Persephone so crudely.Demeter would have had him hanged on the peaks of Olympus. It was a scandal. Forbidden.
So… Why did it spur the butterflies in her belly?
“You’re so beautiful when you blush,” he huffed a laugh. “Your cheeks color like the softest of pink peonies. I wonder if they deepen when you come.”
Persephone’s breath caught, heart fluttering as she stared into his eyes. They were so deep and inviting, their points fixed on her. They weren’t searching for Demeter. Just, her.
“I’ve never–” she stammered and cleared her throat. “I am untouched.”
“Untouched? Even by your own hand?”
“Yes,” she responded, her voice breathy. The admission shocked her, but she didn’t have time to regret it.
“Can you show me?”
Her stomach dipped at the implication. He looked down to hide his wolfish grin and twirled a daffodil, plucking it from the dirt and tucking it into the brown curls behind his ear.
“Not that, silly flower. Show me your magic. I always watch it from afar. The way you push your fingers into the dirt and pull the most beautiful buds from its surface is mesmerizing. I’d like to see such enchanting chaos up close.”
Persephone swallowed, the edge of suspicion still cutting through the smiles and innuendos like a sharpened blade. Though Persephone wasn’t allowed to meet the suitors, she heard their reasons.
Power.
Beauty.
Alliance.
Bloodlines.
Never had they asked about the delicacy of her chaos nor the manner in which it was used. They never wanted details about her hobbies or the way she liked her herbal water inthe morning. Not one saw the wonder in the world the way she did or cared to know her enough to ask. The man in the brook, though? He wondered how her face tinted if he gave her pleasure and how she connected with the soil as she encouraged it to hold life. He was curious abouther, and not what Dememter could give him.
The small, defiant flame in Persephone’s belly sparked. At that moment, the decision was hers. Not Demeter’s.
Against her best senses and her mother’s warnings, Persephone stepped toward the handsome man wading in the brook.
“I am the Father of Darkness, the Void Between the Stars, Creator of your Gods and the Eater of Souls. I am Chaos the Deathless God, and I will find you.”
His promise to Xia rang through the night like the ticking of a timer, and Brooks was terrified it was at its last second. When he broke from the Asylum, Brooks scoured the universe through the intricate webbing of chaos powering the world. Everything had changed since his capture and it was obvious he had a lot of catching up to do.
Locating Club Hel took only moments and evaporating into the darkness took even less. With a thought, he was standing on the craggy black shore of Anthemoessa, the island that was both home and prison to his Siren.
A breeze rolled in icy waves off the ocean as Brooks studied the world he’d left behind. He thought Earth to be his greatestachievement, capable of creating and retaining even the most delicate of lifeforms. And what was there to show for his pride? Tainted land that was nothing but a sad remnant of its origin.
Silhouettes moved against the outside of Club Hel and Chaos rumbled in his chest.We will make them all pay, starting with the sick son of a bitch who left our Siren weeping on a dirty floor.
“Agreed.” He stalked forward, eyes set on the catalyst of his rage.
Power caressed the island, shadows bending and writhing to reach the vengeful god striding toward Hel. Bass thrummed over the crashing waves at his back, electricity sparking through the air as he searched for that endless well of chaos in his chest. He reached, and when his senses felt nothing, he reached further.
“What the fuck?” Brooks faltered. “Where is it?”
What used to be endless felt… drained.
We are not powerless. But we are not powerful.
“What does that mean?”
If I knew, we wouldn’t be powerless, Chaos growled.
