Neon Gods (Dark Olympus 1)

She does that adorable lip nibbling thing again. “Is that presumptuous? I know last night was one thing, but I’m being pushy about this, aren’t I?”

Maybe, but I like the way she carves out a space for herself in my home, in my life. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you here.”

“Then yes, please.” She reaches for me. “Come to bed.”

I catch her hands before she can start unbuttoning my shirt. “Put your things away. I need to do my rounds before anything else happens.”

“Your rounds.” She stares up at me, seeing too much, just like she always seems to. I tense, waiting for her to question, to ask why I feel the need to check the locks when I have one of the best security systems money can buy and a staff of security people. Instead, she just nods. “Do what you need to do. I’ll be waiting.”

Even though I want to rush, I know I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve checked all the entrances and exits on the ground floor properly. Especially now that Persephone is here, trusting me to keep her safe. By all rights, the knowledge should add weight to my shoulders, but it just feels strangely comfortable. As if things were meant to be this way. It doesn’t make any sense to me, so I put it from my mind.

I pause in the security room to check in with my people, but as expected, there’s nothing new to report. Whatever move Zeus makes is yet to be seen, but it’s unlikely he’ll do it tonight.

There will be a time for me to make another move, but I’m hesitant to do so. Not yet, not when things are going so well with Persephone. Better to let things simmer a bit and see what Zeus does before we do anything else.

The excuse feels flimsy as fuck, likely because it is. I don’t care. I push the thoughts away and head back up to my room. I’m not sure what I expect, but it isn’t to find Persephone in my bed, sound asleep.

I stand there and stare, letting the scene wash over me in waves. The way she’s curled on her side, the blankets clutched to her chest with a loose fist. Her hair already a tangled mass over her pillow. How she has her back to what was my side of the bed last night, as if she’s just waiting for me to join her and curl my body around her.

I rub my thumb against my sternum, as if that will ease the ache there. It’s tempting to join her in bed right now, but I make myself go to my closet, strip, and head into the bathroom to go through my nightly ritual.

She’s exactly where I left her when I return, and I shut off the lights and ease between the covers. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. She’s fallen asleep, but she already said she’s not a big cuddler. Just because she’s here doesn’t mean it’s an invitation…

Persephone reaches back and grabs my hand. She scoots back toward me as she tugs me closer, only stopping when we’re sealed together from torso to thigh. She pulls my arm up to curl around her chest with the blanket and gives a sleepy sigh. “Night, Hades.”

I blink into the darkness, no longer able to deny the fact that this woman has irreversibly changed my life. “Good night, Persephone.”

Chapter 20

Persephone

A day passes, and then another, one week bleeding into the next. I spend my days alternately obsessing over when Mother and Zeus will make their move and sinking into the distraction that living with Hades offers. Each room is a new exploration, containing a secret to hold close to my heart. There are shelves tucked into every nook and cranny, all filled with books with spines weathered from many rereads. I conquer one room a day, drawing this journey out, feeling like I’m getting closer and closer to knowing the man who owns this place.

Several times a week, we revisit the winter market and Hades lets me tug him along like a well-loved stuffed animal as I explore. He’s also taken to showing me other hidden gems the lower city has to offer. I get to see dozens of the columns, each depicting a unique scene that relates to the business they bracket. I never get tired of the way his expression goes from guarded to a little awestruck when he realizes how much I value these experiences. I feel like it’s allowing me to get to know this part of the city, yes, but also the man who rules it.

And the nights? My nights are filled with knowing him in an entirely different way.

I close the book I wasn’t reading and look at him. He’s sitting on the other side of the couch with a stack of paperwork and a laptop. If I squint a little, I can almost pretend that we’re normal people. That he’s brought his work home with him. That I’m perfectly content to be a housewife or whatever label fits my current status.