THE DARKNESS LOOMED ABOVE MY EYES LIKE A GALAXY OF DYING STARS, RICHER THAN A CASCADE OF MOLTEN GOLD.

The darkness. Unending, vast, relentless darkness.

It swallowed me like a heavy blanket - not unknown and terrifying, but warm and comforting, a looming oblivion that seemed to welcome me with open arms.

The silk of the oblivion rustled, whispering in a deadly, masculine voice, raw with ancient power.

“Persephone.”

The might, the sheer brutality of the powerful voice crushed the blooms of hope in my chest, almost taking my breath away. The voice was as enticing as it was dangerous, nearly driving me to madness.

“Where… where am I?”

No reply. Not a word, nothing.

“Answer me!”

The mighty being took his time to answer, letting my blood pool with heat, the anxiety grating sharply on my fraying nerves. Anticipation tightened in me like a coiled spring.

“Think,” the male murmured, amused.

The darkness. Ripples cascaded in that darkness, pouring a honeyed heat into the void. Darkness, unending darkness, everywhere.

No light, not even a sliver of it. No sign of the milky white skies. No sign of the blessed crisp breezes, no sign of the cinnamon sweet lullabies of the morning sparrows.

“Not Olympus, then,” my voice simmered in the eternal silence, standing out like a freshly cut crystal.

The silver ghost of his laugh lingered in the air.

“Neither is it the realm of Poseidon.”

Fear gripped my senses like a vise, sharp and unyielding and brutal. It broke my bones open like a cracked shell. A stampede of it broke open my blood and invaded it senseless, devouring it whole.

No.

“Come now,” the power in the void whispered. “You know who stands before you, darling.”

Not the skies, not the seas.

You know who stands before you.

The power thrumming in the vulnerable chamber - the power alone seemed enough to shatter open galaxies, letting a waterfall of starlight slip past the cracks.

I was aware of fear, but not the spine wracking fear that I knew. No, this fear was different, a fear not due to the power, but for the terrible truths of its owner. It was a fear exquisitely crafted to drive my nerves to madness, aided by itching curiosity to know if this was real, if he was real.

Say it, the steady power thrummed. Say my name.

“Why?” I whispered, and there was the slightest crack in my voice at the end.

The Underworld.

The Underworld.

“Your father has given you as a wife to the master of this kingdom, lovely goddess.”

That… was not possible.

Father would never do that.

“He did, my sweet Persephone. You will be my wife, and the Queen of the Dead,” he purred in a deep velvet caress. Yet something lingered under those words, the merest lining of a threat - a carefully disguised one, albeit one nonetheless. Something in it suggested he would tolerate no further argument.

A silent prayer for my mother left me.

He would never let me leave, not him.

He was a silver tongued deceiver, a lord that reigned over a kingdom of ruins, a wickedly clever god.

He would never let me go.

“Then have the courage to show yourself to me, immortal!” I mocked out loud, bitterness melting hot in my veins.

A deadly laugh rumbled in the air, graced with the sharpness of danger. Amusement dripped from every octave of his, bringing the fire in my blood to boil.

“Is it now? Would you like that?”

“If you don't, I'll… I'll wreck your gardens!” the outburst left my lips like spitfire, sizzling out before I had to chance to reconsider.

Another laugh from him, more sarcastic than the last.

“As tempting as the offer is, clever goddess… I don't think I'll be letting you out of this darkness anytime soon.”

I could almost hear the amusement in his tone, this was all a game to him!

“Why is that?”

“Ah. I will keep you in the darkness till you understand who is the master here, Persephone.”

The power stroked me, washing over my senses in a velvety caress, softer than raw silk. Unsatiated arousal began to lull me closer to the edge, and tornadoes of chaos spun in my blood.

“Take me back home. Take me to my mother.”

“Mother?” he echoed. “Mother? That mother who makes you wander in the orchards to find her more fruits, even when you wish to explore the ebony forests? That mother who coaxes you to bloom her a whole meadow, even when you wish to dance among the cemeteries? That mother who makes you her golden sunshine, even when you are a storm of ruins? Is this the mother that you speak of?”

Scalding hot tears of anger and anguish flowed a river down my cheeks.

“She is my family. The only family I have.”

The silence reigned once again supreme. The way the mighty power hummed and spun a cloud of shimmering mist around me was my undoing. The darkness threatened to follow my every step, the darkness which had now seeped into my bones. I had traded my freedom for this.

“You could have had anyone else,” a slight sob tore out of my throat. “Why me?”

A wave of sensation rippled in the eternal night looming in the chamber, and when he answered, his voice scraped gently across the edges of my brain, seducing my senses to the silver gleaming in his words.

“Forbidden fruit is more delicious, clever goddess.”

“If you really are who you claim to be, then prove it, spineless immortal!”

“Spineless immortal, is it?” Another chuckle from him. “Very well then, Persephone.”

The darkness began to shift.

The air simmered like a smoldering flame, crushing my anguish and fear to burned ashes. Death lurked around the corner. I had sworn to Mother to be virtuous, but all those promises came back to me, whispering you lied. Like bleaching a strip of silk, the room slowly began to fade back to colour, giving way to hues of rich crimson and quicksilver lining the obsidian coverlets. The tall, lean figure in the middle of the room was still cloaked in tendrils of black, the colour leaking out from him like ink in pure water.

Say it, the silver tongue seemed to taunt me. Say the name.

The shadows fell away from him, leaving only raw power behind.

Standing before me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

A storm thundered in the clever grey eyes, blazing with an intense fire, making adrenaline shoot right up my veins. Volcanoes erupted under my skin at his gaze, as those dark grey eyes travelled further down my neck. A sliver of amusement flickered in them as he watched me, like a powerful predator studying its prey.

Say the name.

His skin seemed to be carved out of finely polished marble, paler than ivory. In striking contrast, his hair was a mess of glorious black waves, dappled in the light of the nearby candles. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, making pure muscle ripple under his skin.The movement was just so smooth, so perfect, so lethal - I could only watch in astonishment the power, the danger emanating from him. His beauty was so perfect that it terrified me, making my blood run cold.

Lord of the Dead.

Terrifyingly, devastatingly handsome.

So young, so powerful and so lethal… so unlike anything I had ever imagined him to be like.

He was the tall dark stranger those warnings had prepared me for.

Say it, say it, say it.

“Hades,” I finally whispered.

The powerful god let out a sarcastic laugh, his voice was like molten whiskey, warm and husky, deceiving yet clever.

I couldn’t marry this man - I couldn’t. I’d die from fear alone, die from his devastating, midnight beauty. He was lies, he was a deceiver - he was death.

Then he flicked a finger, and it was all gone, him, his voice, his presence - everything.

Even as I could find my voice of protest, I heard him whisper to me before closing the door.

“Rest now, my love. I’ll see you again tomorrow. Would you like that… wife?”

∞