He’s not mine, not really.
He belongs to Hades.
I finally get to his blue eyes, and I rock back on my heels at the anger in them. Hercules drops his hand from my shoulder. “What the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck was what?”
“I know you’re pissed about earlier, but shoving Jasmine in my face felt shitty.”
A curious static rolls over my thoughts. I straighten. “What makes you think my finger-fucking Jasmine has anything to do with you whatsoever? I wanted her. End of story.”
“Maybe it started out that way. But the second I showed up, you did it to punish me. To hurt me.”
He’s a little right, but I’m not about to admit it. “I hate to be the one to have to explain this to you, but not everything I do has the slightest thing to do with you.”
But he’s not listening. Hercules leans down, his expression intent. “You’re furious at me.”
Something snaps in my chest. All my years of learning to control my words and expressions and this man cuts through my efforts without even trying. Anyone else in this building would be content to let me have my masks. Hades is content to let me lie when it suits him, to lock away the messy emotions.
Not Hercules. He just keeps poking and prodding until I feel like I’m going mad with it. I drag my fingers through my hair. “Of course I’m furious at you, you asshole! You rejected me, and it hurt.” The truth, stark and startling, colors the air between us.
“There you are.” He doesn’t move back, but some of his anger seems to abate. “I was following orders, Meg.”
Now that I’ve let slip a little transparency, I can’t seem to stop. “That’s bullshit. You chose Hades over me. That’s what you were doing.”
He jerks like I’ve struck him. “Is that what you really think?”
“That’s what really happened, so yes, Hercules, that’s exactly what I think. Because it’s the truth.”
He studies me, suddenly looking steadier than I’ve seen him since we met. Hercules shakes his head. “You’re upset about the rejection, but it’s more than that.”
Damn him. Damn him for seeing me even when I don’t want him to. I take a step back, but I can’t stop the words that are pressing against the inside of my lips. Words not meant for him, but that doesn’t seem to matter. “He’s replacing me.”
“What?”
My damn eyes are burning again, but I won’t let a single tear fall. “Hades told you what his plans are.”
Guilt flares on his expressive face. “Not exactly.”
“But he told you why he picked you.”
“Yes.”
It’s nothing more than I already suspected, nothing more than he’d already confirmed, but each word is a blow to my crumbling walls. I feel like a fool for thinking Hades and I could fix our relationship while Hades was scouring for someone to fill the shoes I used to walk in. “It’s been years since Hades told me even that much. He lets you in when he shuts me out. Hard to misconstrue that.”
He’s already shaking his head before the last word is out of my mouth. “You’re wrong. He loves you.”
“He used to.” I take a step back. “I’m going to go. You and Hades can continue your little love fest without using me as a buffer.”
A buffer. That’s exactly what I am to them. A way for Hades to avoid admitting that he wants Hercules. A way for Hercules to keep his pride even though he wants Hades back just as much. As soon as they get past that particular hurdle, they won’t need me at all and they’ll discard me just like Declan did.
I. Am. Done.
I manage one step before Hercules’s big hand closes around my upper arm. “Wait.”
“Fuck off.”
He hauls me to a stop. “You’re not a buffer.”
“Sweet of you to say, but that’s bullshit.” The burning in my throat is back, stronger than before. I have to get out of here, and I have to do it now. “Let go, Hercules.”
“What’s your safe word?”
The question shocks me to stillness. I look up into his face, but this man is nothing like the one I’ve dealt with to date. He’s downright forbidding. Something in my stomach flips over in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. “Cerberus,” I whisper.
He jerks me to him, the momentum slamming me against his chest. There’s no chance to catch my footing because he takes my mouth as if he has every right to it. There’s no tenderness here, just a special kind of brutality that’s so much better. He bands one arm across my lower back and drags me backward to Hades’s desk. I barely get a second to register his intentions when he lifts me onto the desk. “Hercules, wait.”
He hesitates, but seems to remember that no isn’t really a no. Not when you play like we do. His expression goes wild and almost desperate, and he shoves up my short skirt and pushes my legs wide. “I want you, Meg. I fucking care about you. If you won’t listen to my words, then you will listen to my body as I fuck you senseless.” He steps between my thighs and stops. “Condom.”