THIS WAS IT, THEN.

He was going to take me without consent, without remorse, without delay - revelling in my screams. There was no escape, no reprieve, no difference between him and those smug bastards who coaxed me out of my cave. He thought he could enchant me, trap me with his precious crowns and pretty dresses, when in truth: he was just more of the same.

Hades's eyes were dark and demanding, deadly, like a dying thunderstorm.

Perhaps if I lay still... maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. I could close my eyes.

Silently, slowly, my fingers pulled at the rich, embroidered belt of the dressing gown, fraught with fear to the extent where I could not make a sound. He did not move, did not touch me, but stood there. Leaning against the wall with the glass of champagne in one hand, my husband drank in every inch of me. Our eyes remained locked, like a battle of gazes that refused to back down, to accept surrender.

The robe came off, pooling to the floor - leaving me shivering in an ivory slip of pure silk that came halfway to my knee, leaving my back bare.

One by one did the goosebumps appear on my skin, the ready heat rising to my cheeks. I had never stood in front of a man like this, never felt so exposed, so vulnerable - especially when his eyes lapped me up and left behind a blazing trail of heat behind. His full lips curled slightly with something that looked like reverent admiration, like a worshipper in front of a deity.

Give him what he wants. Give him this night. Do what he asks of you. There has to be proof that you consummated, child - until that your union is not legal.

Fear ate me up as I quietly took in a deep breath and finally pulled down the loose sleeve over one golden shoulder.

"Wait," Hades called out at last. "Stop."

Frozen, I looked at him, eyes wide, questioning. He put down his empty glass, his eyes returned to light gray, less formidable, more humane.

"I will not take you against your will. Taking you by force makes me no different than the rapists I saved you from, Persephone."

Relief washed over me like a shower of silver rain, letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Thank the heavens for him, for even that tiny flicker of humanity residing in that stone cold heart of his.

"Dress. I apologize for my behaviour."

"But - if..."

"Dress first."

He quietly stepped to the other side of the lavish chamber, pulling the soft gossamer curtains to give me some privacy. I could hear him take off his boots on the other side of the room, with a sharp breaths and some more cursing. A clink of glass and another pop as he opened a second bottle. I finished tying my robe before stepping out from behind the curtains, mind reeling with a thousand questions.

"Could I have another glass, please?"

He raised an eyebrow askance, a quiet smirk on his lips, as if laughing on the inside. The fact of the matter remained that I was even badly shaken now - why did he let me go? Was there some other ploy at work here?

The warmth of the soft fabric and the heat of the alcohol, coupled with the fire blazing in the hearth beside us enveloped me in a sense of comfort, making me feel a bit at ease. I sat down on the bed with the chilled goblet of champagne clutched in my nimble fingers, watching him as he drew up a handsome chair of polished mahogany across me.

"You are unhappy."

I looked up at him, strangely mesmerised by the way the flickering flames of fire cast shadows on his handsome, cold face.

"I..."

"Are you scared of me?"

I breathe deeply, draining the rest of the glass at once, feeling strangely giddy at the magic of the tiny golden bubble fizzing on the tip of my pink tongue.

"You do not scare me."

"Then?" he leaned back, observing me with interest.

"This-" I motioned to the crown, the deep red curtains, the gilded doors, the diamonds sparkling from every corner "-this scares me. What will my mother say when she finds out?"

"So she disapproves of you having a husband, Persephone? Of having a kingdom to rule over? Of having riches beyond your wildest dreams and subjects begging to kiss your feet?"

The heat in my cheeks rose a little higher as I sann into the soft cushions behind me, the velvet cool to the touch.

"She doesn't even let me swim in the rivers or drink champagne. What do you imagine she will do to me if she finds out about this?" I breathed softly. "She loves me a lot. She does not wish for my life to be in danger."

"It is not danger she is keeping you away from. It is freedom. You think your father would even let me touch a hair on your head if there was danger here?" he asked, quiet, steady, holding my gaze.

I did not reply, instead, I flicked about the coverlet, tracing the delicate gold filigree on it.

"Freedom is like champagne, Persephone. You never know how good it feels until you taste it."

"How can you say that?"

"You do not believe me?" he asked. A moment passed as he noticed the tentative shake of my head. "Give me one month, then. Give me one month. I will show you every delight, every freedom that exists. I will show you the jeweled fields of Asphodel. I will show you the flowing rivers of the Underworld. I will show you the mines in the Vale of Mourning, filled with gemstones of every colour imaginable. You will never know true freedom until you watch the blood red sun set on the horizon while drinking glasses of spiced wine. Give me a month to show you what freedom looks like, Persephone. At the end of those thirty days, I will give you a choice. Either you go back to your mother and return to captivity, or you stay with me in eternal freedom till the end of time."

Too good - it almost seemed too good to be true.

"You are joking," I whispered, voice shaking.

"Look at my face and tell me that I'm joking," he said quietly, his face dead serious. "I swear it on the Styx. Do you agree?"

My fists clenched, unclenched and clenched again.

"Why?" I croak, voice hoarse from excess of wine, feeling it fizz and simmer at the tip of my tongue. "What made you change your mind? You carried me away from my home as if I were a basket of roses, and now you say you will let me go."

And at the back of my head, gnawed an obscene, villainous thought - what if I had displeased him? Had I failed to meet his expectations? Did he view me just as another toy, a plaything, to be discarded when soiled and used out? Away did I chase those traitorous feelings, washing them off like a tidal wave sweeping off towers of glass.

He drew himself up, a slight hint of temper flickering in the depths of his stone cold face, and I could tell that his feathers were ruffled.

"I admit..." he muttered, dragging his hand through his silky black hair, "that I stole you away - but you may have realised I am not exactly the type of man to show up at Demeter's cave with a box of chocolates to woo you."

And in spite of myself, I could not help but let out a laugh. He looked at me with something that resembled surprise, thinking perhaps of something clever to say as he scratched his chin.

"I decided to make you this offer," he said at last, "because I see. I observe. You are not happy here. Neither will be your mother. I don't trust my sister and her intolerable demands one bit."

"My mother only wants her daughter back. What is intolerable about that?" fire rose up in me, filling me with something that felt like panic - and yet I did not run.

"What is intolerable," he sneered, "is seeing you follow her like a lost puppy without purpose. She traces you, imprisons you, bars you freedom like a flower forbidden from seeing the light. Your mother could choke you to death and you would still call it love, Persephone."

"Do not," I snapped, feeling the anger, blood red, hot - filling me up like molten lava. Higher and higher up it went, until I could contain it no longer and raw tendrils of power exploded from my fingertips.

The blood red roses floating in a bowl beside the table shrivelled up instantly and died.

Hades looked at me, something like amusement stirring in his features, watching the dead flowers floating in the scented oil.

"Interesting," he spoke under his breath, tone low, a dulcet caress. "A daughter of she who gives life seems to enjoy taking it away..."

"What did you just say, Polydegmon?"

He grimaced slightly, tilting his head a bit as the annoyance in his eyes seeped into the darkness.

"I hate that title," he muttered quietly. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't call me that. It makes me feel old."

"You are old," I snapped at him, lips pressed in a thin line as he threw his head back and laughed.

"Well," he mused, "I suppose so. You really don't know much about me, do you?"

"You rule the dead. This is your kingdom. And you have enough gold to woo every maiden of Olympus three times over. Did I miss anything else, my lord?"

Hades laughed again, the silver sound of it like smoke rippling over water. A dimple appeared on his left cheek when he did that, I noticed.

"Fair enough," he shrugged. "I love my kingdom. I love the smoke of its halls and the glitter of its gold. I love my subjects and give them my promise of fair judgement. I am stern, yes, and my verdict always carries equal amounts of fairness and justice. I would not give up any of these even for the entire finery of Olympus."

"That seems like quite a description. But do you promise to hold up your end of the bargain?"

"I promise. If you want to leave, I will let you go - no strings attached," he said finally, hoarse.

This could be the only way, the only way out of this. I just had to stay for one month. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours.

"I agree," I said at last.

"So do I," he promised, getting up. Retrieving his cloak, he made his way to the door, pausing at the questioning look in my eyes. "I will sleep in the adjacent room. Tomorrow, we begin our trip as King and Queen of the Underworld."

And with those words, Hades left at last, leaving me alone in comfortable darkness.