Chapter Four

"You're cheating."

I glanced up past my hair to see Atros staring at me intensely, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I narrowed my eyes, but couldn't resist laughing at how he'd managed to catch onto my bluff so quickly. I lifted the cup to reveal the dice on the bed and Atros shook his head, reaching out to snatch them from me.

"You've won every single game by cheating. Is playing fair too much to ask?" He asked, tossing the die into his cup and taking mine. I shrugged, leaning back on my hands and distracting him from putting the game away as his eyes stared at my crotch.

"Playing fair is ridiculous. If you can find other ways to play, I say play them; otherwise, why are they there?" I asked. Atros cocked his head, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

"Is that how you justify it?"

"There's no justifying the truth. Anyway," I added, waving a hand idly in my face as I rolled onto my side and stretched my foot out to poke him in the chest, making him roll his eyes and wave it away, "We should find something else to do. I can only play board games so long before I get, well, bored."

"We could do that thing that you're supposed to be paying me for." Atros offered, climbing off the bed and heading to the nightstand to put the dice and cups away. I rolled over to watch him, frowning up at him. There was an odd look on his face. In fact, I noticed that he'd been acting strange for the past few days. It'd been almost a month that we'd been sleeping together. It was a good thing I was a god, or I'd be dirt poor by now with how much I was forced to pay for Atros because his employer refused to give him up. Not that I offered to buy him. If I did that, it would make this relationship much more than client and employee.

Something I couldn't risk.

I'd already gotten too comfortable with Atros. It was at a dangerous level. I found myself unable to go one day without visiting Atros twice or three times a day. Each time we had sex, but each time we ended up talking. Actually, Atros did most of the talking. I didn't want to risk ranting, else I'd fuck up and give away my real identity.

But I think that's what was driving me insane.

When Atros went off, he always ranted and blamed me without even knowing it. He'd never officially met Hades, but he swore up and down that he was the epitome of all that was evil and cruel. He hated Hades for ruining his life, for causing his wife and son's deaths, for why there was so much poverty, why people were bitter and cruel. It was Hades's fault everything in the world was bad. And Atros swore that, if given the chance, he would rip Hades apart and bathe in his blood.

All the while, I sat there and listened quietly. His words didn't hurt me, or surprise me. I was too used to people saying things like that about me. A dozen millennia and it was the same thing, over and over again. Everyone was a broken record trapped in the past. They needed something to focus their hatred on, and I just happened to be it. I'd grown accustomed to that thought process, and I thrived on it. If it wasn't for the hatred built against me, I wouldn't be who I was and I was fine with who I was.

I wasn't nice. I wasn't friendly. I wasn't romantic or good or loving or any of that.

But, I was strong. I was independent. I was intelligent.

It was worth it.

"Your hair smells wonderful." Atros murmured half an hour later as he spooned himself behind me, his nose buried in my hair. I wasn't sure what to say to that. Personally, I thought it smelled like ash and soil. The things I was surrounded by. Hell, maybe even sulfur considering how often the stench of it wafted up the Phlegethon, which passed through the mountains my home was built into.

"And your skin is soft." Atros breathed, running his hand up and down my arm. I frowned now, glancing over my shoulder at him.

"Why are you saying that?" I asked. Atros's eyes flickered up to meet mine, glowing with a sudden passion that caught me off guard. He leaned in and captured my lips in a deep, sensual kiss that had me rolling onto my back, and he on top of me as he sank his fingers into my hair and cradled my head as he kissed me at a dizzying pace.

Why was he saying all of that? No one said those things. We weren't in love. That wasn't what this was. This was just scratching a biological itch. And yet, Atros was murmuring things other whores had never said to me in bed. The others had rolled away from me to collect my money after we were finished. Atros just pulled me against him and sometimes even fell asleep breathing against the back of my neck, his arm draped around my waist, his leg nestled in between mine. It was far too intimate.

But I couldn't bring myself to tell him to fuck off. Something was oddly okay with the way he wrapped himself around me.

I didn't want to like it, though. It was dangerous.

Atros hated me, without even knowing it. I couldn't just abandon Hades for Hector.

Because one way or another, I was Hades.

I would always be Hades, and the rest of the world was there to remind me.

Atros and I went another round before I made up an excuse to go to work. Worst of all was that whenever I started out the door, he'd pull me back and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips before I left. It was like a typical married couple thing that you only saw on movies or romance novels. It was disgusting, but I couldn't tell him no.

I hated how much control Atros had over me without even knowing it. He'd managed to quell my urge to be nasty and cruel. I'd even stopped calling him a whore, which is exactly what he was. It wasn't an insult. It was literally his occupation, one he was beginning to lose sight of by having this relationship with me, or at least, trying to have with me. I was just making things worse by not telling him there was something wrong with it.

I wanted to figure out what to do, but there was no one to talk to. Persephone didn't want to hear about it. She didn't say it, but I knew she was thinking it. I wasn't stupid. I knew she was hiding her own relationship with someone. Demeter had informed me in an email that Persephone was seeing a man named Edward, who was visiting Scotland from London on a school trip. He was very young, and friendly. Everything I was not. And apparently Persephone adored him.

"I'm not doing this to hurt you, Hades," Demeter had told me in her email, "I just want you to know that Persephone's happy. You told me to tell you if she smiled. And she's smiling a lot."

And I was grateful for that. Persephone deserved someone to make her smile. And while she smiled around me, she was only doing it because she thought it made me happy. It did, but I wanted her to truly be happy because she was happy. Not because she thought it made me happy.

Nothing made me happy.

Except maybe churning the innards of everyone I hate, which was quite a long list.

I arrived back at the palace half an hour past five, transforming back into my original form and walking toward my room when, once again, I passed that cold black door. Or at least, I tried to walk passed it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I stopped to face the door and touched my gloved hand to the frame, before reaching down to twist the black handle. Lack of use caused the door to creak obnoxiously as I opened it to peer into a room that hadn't been used in quite a long time.

The walls were painted a deep navy color to a black ceiling decorated with little dots that were meant to mimic stars, but no longer glowed due to always sitting in the darkness. There was a double bed with a half canopy over the pillows that were layered with dust, just like the sheets. Drab black dresser and matching bookcase with books on history and war. An empty space where a stereo once sat, a closet that was bolted shut.

A stab of guilt made me slam the door shut, my teeth clenching so tight, I swore they would shatter any minute. They probably would have if I wasn't interrupted with a frightened squeak. I snapped my head around to see the hybrid slave trembling a few feet from me.

"M-Mmy l-lord. Z-Z-Zelios. Sent oracle. Come see you in throne room." He managed to finish without stuttering, but it was any wonder he hadn't pissed on the floor. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I rather speak to Zelios, not his oracle."

"S-Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you idiot," I snapped impatiently, then brushed past him and he almost fainted, but managed to scurry after me, probably scared of what would happen to him should he faint around me, "I'll speak with him. It's probably important. God forbid someone visits to actually chat."

"I c-could chat."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"K-Kay."

I rolled my eyes. Why did he have to stutter so much? I wasn't going to kill him. Persephone would be furious if I killed another servant for the sole reason of simply annoying me. Not to mention, hiring another one would just be a huge hassle. I wanted to stay on the downlow for now what with the hospital being built and Atros taking up a portion of my day.

I ordered the servant to buzz off and find something useful to do before I teleported to the throne room. Sure enough, Zelios's pathetic little lover/second-in-command was standing under one of the cherry blossom trees to gaze up at it with child-like wonder.

Noe was very small compared to Zelios and the rest of my children. He was barely six foot with dark, dark hair unbrushed and just sticking up in certain places. He'd managed to get some of it cut, on one side, so the other was longer. His bangs swept over a pair of periwinkle eyes. He wore a long sleeveless coat over a maroon turtleneck and black jeans to a pair of high heels that were the only explanation for why he looked slightly taller than usual.

After a series of unfortunate events, Noe had gone from sniveling water daemon to a powerful oracle that belonged to none other than my piece of shit nephew, Apollo, who I knew for a fact was using Noe to spy on me.

The moment I entered the throne room, Noe turned sharply and gave me a look of such raw hatred that it was comparable to that of my brother's. Who knew someone with such soft purple-blue eyes could conjure up so much hate? It was amusing.

"Zelios sent me to give you a report about the Titans." He stated, voice brittle. I gave him a smug look, folding my arms over my chest.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you rather be in a cage with a Titan." I replied. Noe's eyes glowed hatefully.

"You have no idea." He answered heatedly. I smirked. His reason for hating me was logical too. Because Zelios had betrayed me, in more than one way, I had taken his voice into custody as punishment. He'd gone without it for over a decade now, using his strange computer device to speak for him or sign language. Part of me wanted to return his voice, because he'd suffered enough, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. If I did, everyone else would see it as mercy and begin to take advantage of it. I'd already shown enough mercy towards plenty of people. Too much and people would start dropping orphans off at my home thinking it was a safe ground.

Like Hell.

"All right, let's get this over with." I said at last. Noe looked more than happy to oblige.

"So far, all the Titans are subdued. Most of them are unconscious and according to the oneiroi, there's been no dream or astral movements."

"Most of them." I repeated. Noe narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"Cronus doesn't sleep. He sits in the corner of his cell and mutters obscenities while ripping his fingernails off in the walls. Epimetheus is always awake whenever Prometheus is asleep, and vice versa. Phoebe was awake for a few hours yesterday, then went unconscious after her meal. Aside from that, they're all asleep."

"And Rhea?"

"She's also out cold. She woke up for a few minutes to feed Cronus, then went back to sleep."

"Has she eaten?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't think you're in any position to question me, oracle." I warned. Noe clenched his teeth. I could just see the fantasizes flashing through his mind in which he killed me in every single one. I took them in stride as he took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

"She eats two meals a day. She's fine, if that's what you're asking."

"That's not what I want. Have you broken her bones?"

"She killed one of the guards who tried."

"Of course she did," I muttered dryly, "I want her bones broken. Even if it's just her legs. We're still on red alert. Do everything in your power to keep them contained." Noe just gave me a short nod, then vanished. I was relieved to have him out of here. I was getting a headache from how intensely he glared at me. I left the throne room to go check the papers Alexion had probably piled on my desk haphazardly. I walked down a short hallway to my secluded office near an empty recently tended courtyard.

The courtyard was large and square with flowers scattered in their plots, vines climbing up toward the crevice above that allowed sunlight to bleed in for them. There was an opening carved into one side of the walls to lead to Persephone's garden. I could see the glorious coloring of flowers and foliage through it even from my office.

My office was on the opposite end of the courtyard. Dark and relatively small with only a desk and chair, work papers and files scattered across it. A few file cabinets built into the walls on one side and a bookcase filled to the brim with books of all kinds, most of which I haven't touched in years. I sat at my desk for a couple of hours, scanning the papers and growing incredibly bored with them. They were mostly registers of citizenship, marriage, and other things I couldn't give two shits about.

Most of this garbage I had passed onto Charon, but since Alexion had shoved his nose into our business, he's been sending the papers back. Giving me bullshit about how busy Charon was. Yeah, too busy to fuck him, and that's just what I wanted, but not what Alexion wanted. And apparently his wants far out-reached mine.

Fed up with paperwork, I decided to descend into Persephone's garden. I had purposely constructed the garden to have large openings in the top, creating a valley in the mountains that separated my realm from the realm beyond it. The garden was gigantic and filled with real plants and flowers from the mortal realm, all growing bright and powerful due to the light of the artificial sun and rain that fed down to them.

There were only dirt paths, a few cobblestoned ones, that led through the grassy garden overrun by flowers of all different shades of colors. Blues, purples, yellows, pinks. The list continued far beyond that of the rainbow spectrum. But the vivid greens of grass and tree leaves, vines and flower stems, were a constant. There were four benches set around a large pomegrante tree. It was any wonder Persephone allowed this thing to keep growing after I'd fed her the fruit from it.

I paused before the tree and reached out to it, plucking a bright red fruit from its branches. It rustled for a moment, then went still as I sat on one of the stone benches beneath it. I split the fruit in two, bringing one half to my mouth to suckle the seeds and juice out.

It was far too peaceful here for my liking. I was used to chaos and noise. The garden was silent and gentle. The only real sounds came from the occasional gust of wind from up above, causing leaves to rustle. A small stream ran through the center of the garden, feeding water to the plants. It trickled ever so slightly, fish darting around inside as silent as ghosts. I heard a couple of bees swirling and dancing around a bundle of daises in a far corner, a small green garden snake weaving around stalks of sunflowers in another corner.

And oddly enough, I found myself thinking of Atros again.

And I hated it.

Why did he repeatedly come to mind?

Unable to resist the pull, I left the garden, dropping the fruit for the insects to devour. I transformed back into Hector before teleported to Styx again, surrounded by noise and bright lights. Gone with the peace of a beautiful garden wonderland, in with the rowdy city sounds of music, pots and pans clanking, people shouting and laughing and talking, a dog barking somewhere, and bells ringing as people went in and out of shops. I made my way to the redlight district, telling myself I should just go home and sleep or wait for Persephone's next call, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around.

Atros had invaded my mind. I regretted every coming to Styx in the first place. I should've stayed home. I should've just ordered one of my servants to let me fuck them... but I wanted something else. I wanted something new. And I'd stupid let my instincts lead me to the Rajama.

Bright purple lights flashing, neon signs glowing, prostitutes, male and female, pawing for attention. And yet, the only one I cared for was the one that was always asleep when I arrived. I paid the woman at the desk and Atros once again drew me into his room.

"You don't work very long." Atros commented as we laid on his bed, my back resting against his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair and I studied my nails, trying to appear as if I didn't care much for his presence. When really it was one of the few things I craved in this world.

"I'm self-employed." I replied, running my thumb across my index fingernail. Atros reached down so he could clasp my hands in his, his thumbs stroking my knuckles. I frowned at his movements, studying the way his large soft thumb swept across my knuckles tenderly. The way his index fingers slid between mine and my middle fingers. It was a light tickle touch, gentle and loving. It made my skin crawl and my heart hammer against the inside of my chest.

"You're getting goosebumps." Atros murmured, moving his hand away from mine so he could run it down my bare arm. I glanced at the movement, then tilted my head back against his chest to stare up at him.

"Why do you keep touching me like that?" I asked. Atros stared down at me for a while, then shrugged and looked up, continuing to touch me. It wasn't so much as sexual as it was... normal. I wasn't sure I could describe it and it frustrated me.

"Have you ever been in love, Hector?" He asked after a while. I tried not to laugh at that. Love? The few times the emotion had tempted me, I was slapped across the face with it. Love was a game for fools.

"Haven't we all?" I asked instead.

"Do you love your wife?"

"Unfortunately."

"Does she love you?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"She told me."

"I'm sorry for that," Atros admitted, leaning in to kiss my ear, chills erupting up my spine, "I loved Gloria... I still do. I'm sorry if that offends you." I laughed.

"Why would that offend me? She's your wife. I'm just your client. I'm sure if you had a choice, you wouldn't be fucking me. You just do it because I pay for it." I replied, picking up his hand to study his long fingers. They were large, powerful hands. I could easily see him in the military, taking down people who were ten times his size. He had good strong hands. Even though they were soft, and showed no signs of long hours of manual labor, they had known work.

"You think I sleep with you simply because you're a client?" Atros asked me. I snorted.

"Why else would you sleep with me?" I asked dryly. What was he getting at?

"Maybe I love you." Atros admitted. I stiffened, then tilted my head to give him a dry stare.

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't making a joke." Atros replied. I looked back down at his hands against mine, feeling a chill creep through my bones. But this time, it wasn't sexual arousal. It was a sensation I knew all too well and I loathed it. I wanted to get up and run out of the room and actually pay the woman to send Atros to some realm far, far away.

I shouldn't be here. Especially if he was harboring feelings for me. This was getting dangerous the longer I stayed here. What if he acted on those feelings? All the sex up until now has been just that. Sex. There was nothing behind it, except getting paid and getting laid.

Now he was throwing in feelings.

No, he was suggesting love. Love wasn't just an emotion you could push away so easily. He was going to start taking care of me. He was going to be gentle and loving. He was going to keep touching me like this, for no other reason than enjoying the feel of my skin, my hair. He would talk to me about anything and everything, because he trusted me, because he loved me.

And it burned.

"Does that scare you?" I snapped out of my thoughts, frowning at Atros's voice against my ear.

"I'm not scared of anything." I muttered dryly. Atros stroked the hair back from my face, tilting my head back so he could lay his soft lips against my throat. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I clenched my teeth, shutting my eyes tightly for a moment. My muscles all stiffened for a moment, then loosened as I breathed out.

"You look scared." Atros said softly, kissing at my cheek now. I managed to turn my head away, but he took that chance to bury his nose in my hair.

"I'm not scared," I repeated coldly, "I don't want you to mistake our relationship for more than just what it is."

"I'm not," Atros answered, making me roll my eyes, then hesitate as he took my hand into his so he could lean down to brush his lips over my knuckles, then my fingertips, "I know what it is. But that doesn't mean we should stop just because I have feelings for you."

"Yeah. I think that's what it means."

"No."

"Yes," I repeated tightly, snatching my hand back from him, "You can't do this. You'll expect me to do the same thing. You'll expect me to trust you, to love you. You'll start treating me differently. You'll do the whole flowers and cards and jewelry thing. You'll tell me you love me every time we have sex or expect me to rescue you from this cesspool, to take you away like I'm some kind of white knight. Then when I get you home, you'll probably rob my ass and leave. Or even worse, you might actually love me and try to treat me like I'm..." My voice trailed as Atros leaned down to kiss at my ear. I hissed past clenched teeth and went to shove him away, but he spun us around so he was pinning me to the bed.

I glared at him, tempted to claw him so he'd get away from me, but I was suddenly stilled by the scorching hot stare of dark eyes on mine, large hands planted on the bed on either side of me, legs tossed on either side of me, hot breath blasting down on my face.

"I won't let you run away from me like you ran away from your past, Hector. You can ran away from the pain. But the only way to heal it is to let someone else in... Let me in, Hector. I swear to you that I won't hurt you." He murmured. I clenched my teeth. He went to kiss me, but I turned my head away, so he kissed my cheek instead, brushing his nose against my skin as he made his way down to my throat.

My body trembled and ached. I suddenly wanted to feel him inside me so bad. I wanted to feel him invade me completely. I wanted to feel his arms around me and his nose in my hair, breathing me in like I was some kind of intoxicating aphrodisiac. My instincts screamed at me to stop and get away, but when he grabbed my jaw and forced me to look at him so he could kiss me hungrily, I was gone.

He kissed me fiercely, stealing my breath away as he hoisted my legs up and sat back, pulling me into his lap. He ran his hands up and down my back, groped at my ass, suckled my throat and nipples. He stroked our cocks, made my head spin. He filled me abruptly, making me hiss and groan in relief at finally having something deep inside me.

He kissed me senseless, fucked me senseless, left me breathless and aching for more.

Before I realized it, we'd had sex three times before collapsing on the bed with Atros's arm draped across me, his breath in my ear.

"I love you, Hector."

Son of a bitch.