“Too tired for shower,” Aaren slurred.
“I’ll wash you. It’s fine.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know you like being clean when you get into bed. Let me help you feel comfy.” Hades set Aaren in the passenger seat and buckled him in.
Aaren lost track of time. They drove through Meadowfall for a while, before pulling to a stop. The car engine shut off; his seatbelt loosened. Then Hades was all around him, picking him up and setting him on his feet. The front door opened. Hades scooped Aaren back into his arms and carried him to the bedroom.
In the bathroom, Hades stripped Aaren with practiced ease. More clothes rustled. Something big clattered in the shower.
What was it? Aaren cracked his eyes open.
It was one of those plastic-and-aluminum stools for people who couldn’t stand up in the shower. Hades guided Aaren over to it and helped him sit down.
“Lean back against the wall,” Hades said. “You can sleep if you’d like. I’ll wash you.”
“‘Kay.” Aaren leaned back and dozed, warm shower spray on his skin and large hands smoothing over his body.
The water cut off. Hades dried him gently with a towel, before carrying him to bed.
“This was the easiest shower I ever had,” Aaren mumbled. “I closed my eyes and everything happened.”
Hades laughed.
They snuggled under the covers together, facing each other. Aaren curled his fingers over Hades’ hip.
The words fell out of his mouth.
“Why haven’t you been stolen by a hot omega?”
Hades frowned. Then it melted away, and he raised an eyebrow. “Ihavebeen stolen by a hot omega.”
Warmth bloomed across Aaren’s cheeks. “You know what I mean.”
He hid his face against Hades’ chest, knowing that Hades wanted him here. All the same, a little knot of worry gnawed in his stomach, that Hades might remember there were other omegas out there.
“Sweetheart.” Hades cupped Aaren’s nape. “Back when I was in prison, I never thought I would find someone like you. The omegas I met always minded that I had committed crimes, and they always turned me away.”
And that was the other thing they had been dancing around—whatever Hades had done to land himself in prison. Aaren swallowed. “Will you tell me what you did?”
Hades’ smile was lopsided. “I’ve done a lot of things. No one names themselves Hades for being a pillar of virtue.” Then his smile faded. “It’s why I’ve been... wary about telling you. I don’t want to drive you away. This is not something you bring home and tell your family about.”
Aaren trailed his fingertips over Hades’ tattooed chest—a hawk in mid-flight. There were other tattoos on his body: guns down his sides, knives on his hips, a bow and arrow on his thigh.
Between those tattoos were lighter patches of skin, older scars that were starting to fade.
“Tell me anyway,” Aaren said.
Hades’ eyes, when they met Aaren’s, were full of hesitation. “What would you like to know?”
25
HADES’ PAST
Aaren wet his lips,his heart thumping. “Were any of these scars from yardwork?”
Hades huffed. “Nope. Well, maybe a couple of small ones. The rest of them were from fights.”
