“No,” she replied, pushing past him.
Hades followed close.
As she returned the book to its place on the shelf, she spoke. “Although, I would rather you want me as queen because you love me, not because the Fates have degreed it.”
Hades waited until she faced him to speak. He was frowning. “You doubt my love?”
“No!” Her eyes widened at the conclusion he’d come to, then her shoulders fell. “But...I suppose we cannot avoid what others may perceive about our relationship.”
“And what do others say, exactly?” He stood so close she could smell spice and smoke and a touch of winter air. It was the scent of his magic.
A shoulder rose and fell as she said, “That we are only together because of the Fates. That you have only chosen me because I am a goddess.”
“Have I given you reason to think such things?”
She stared, unable to answer. She didn’t want to say that Yuri had planted the idea in her head. The thought had been there before—a seed planted early on. Yuri had merely watered it and now it was growing, as wild as the black vines that sprouted from her magic.
Hades spoke faster, demanding. “Who has given you doubts?”
“I have only just started to consider—”
“My motives?”
“No—”
He narrowed his eyes. “It seems that way.”
Persephone took a step away, the bookcase pressing into her back. “I am sorry I said anything.”
“It is too late for that.”
Persephone glared. “Will you punish me for speaking my mind?”
“Punish?” Hades tilted his head to the side, and he moved closer, hips leaning into hips, leaving no space between them. “I am interested to hear how you think I might punish you.”
Those words wound her tight, and despite the heat they inspired, she
managed to glare at him.
“I am interested in having my questions answered.”
Hades jaw tightened. “Remind me again of your question.”
She blinked. Was she asking him if he had only chosen her because she was a goddess? Was she asking him if he loved her?
She took a deep breath and peered up at him through her lashes. “If there were no Fates, would you still want me?”
She couldn’t place the look on Hades’ face. His eyes were a laser, melting her chest and her heart and her lungs. She couldn’t breath as she waited for him to speak—and he didn’t. Instead, he reached for her with one hand and clasped her jaw. His body vibrated—she could feel the violence beneath, and for a moment she wondered what the King of the Underworld intended to unleash.
Then his grip softened, and his fingers splayed across her cheek, eyes lowering to her lips.
“Do you know how I knew the Fates made you for me?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, a tone he used in the darkness of their room after they made love. Persephone shook her head slowly, ensnared by his gaze. “I could taste it on your skin and the only thing I regret is that I have lived so long without you.”
His lips trailing along her jaw and across her cheek. She held her breath, leaning into his touch, seeking his mouth, but instead of kissing her, he stepped away.
His sudden distance left her unsteady, and she leaned against the bookshelf for support.
“What was that?” she demanded, glaring at him.