Ever with Hades

But they could get taller than that, Ever thought sickly, if these creatures ever choose to rise on their hind legs.

What were these creatures? They appeared like donkeys and yet she couldn’t recall any kind of species that could be this big. Were they docile or aggressive? Should she risk jumping off or—-

The creatures suddenly went still.

A moment later, the creatures let out a keening cry before doing exactly what Ever feared the most. The pair rose up, and Ever screamed as she found herself tumbling back into the tent. The back of her head hit the bed, and she moaned. A moment later, she felt the creatures drop back down on their fours, and this time she found herself falling forward—-

Oh my God, she was going to fall out of the tent and before she knew it, the creatures would crush her under their hooves—-

A pair of strong arms suddenly swept her up, and when she opened her eyes dazedly, she found herself staring straight into the dark gaze of the god of the Underworld.

“Are you alright?”

She stammered, “H-how—-”

Hades took her back to bed, and as he laid her down, he said dryly, “You know who I am, milady. I’m sure you do not really need to ask how I came to you so quickly.”

Her lips opened and parted, Ever unable to make her mind what she wanted to ask first.

Logic told her that she could be just dreaming all of this. If not that then she was dead. Or Inception was real.

But—-

Her instincts, on the other hand, insisted that this was real – whether she liked it or not.

Realizing that Hades’ dark burning gaze was still on her, she began to feel self-conscious and hated herself for it.

He is a married man, Ever!

He may be your fictional boyfriend, but this is real now, and he’s not yours!

Seeing the ferocious frown that had furrowed her smooth forehead, Hades said honestly, “Whatever it is your thinking, I would willingly pay a king’s ransom to know.” He paused. “But you probably wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No.”

His lips twitched. “I figured.” Moving forward, he sat down on the edge of the bed and raised a brow at the way she immediately scooted away and practically plastered herself to the wall behind her.

“Are you afraid of me, milady?”

Unable to bear the thought of lying to him, Ever said reluctantly, “No.” But before he could ask any more leading questions which she truly didn’t want to answer, she changed the subject awkwardly by speaking the first thing that came to her mind. “The creatures carrying this tent...what are they?”

“Empousai,” Hades answered readily, remembering belatedly that such creatures were unknown to the modern world. “They’re gentle creatures, despite their appearances. I’ll introduce you to them later.”

“Uhh, thanks.” Her voice was weak.

“You will love them, I assure you. They are quite affectionate.”

“I’m sure.” Remembering how huge the empo-something was, Ever wondered uneasily if that was a good thing. She sneaked a peek at the god of the Underworld and with his attention seemingly trained elsewhere, Ever couldn’t help studying his appearance.

Everything about him felt both familiar and unfamiliar, she thought absently. He was much, much taller than she expected, and more powerfully built, too. If she had to be honest, he was also more beautiful than she imagined, and the way his hair and eyes were the purest shade of black was quite mesmerizing.

And as for those wicked lips of his—-

Ever’s face flamed as she remembered too late the way the god of the Underworld had licked and bitten her ear, and even worse, how much she had liked it.

How could you, Ever Carlisle, she chastised herself despairingly.

This man was married! Worse, to a goddess! Worst of all, no Greek myth had ever made mention of divorce—-

Shame washed over her upon realizing where her thoughts were heading, and Ever’s hands flew to cover her face.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.

Or husband.

Got it, Ever?

When she lowered her hands, it was to find the god of the Underworld smirking, and his tone was light and teasing as he asked, “Are you uncomfortable at looking your fill of me, milady?”

An embarrassed squeak escaped her.

Could gods read minds?

“No,” Hades murmured. “Gods do not read minds—-”

“But you just did,” she cried out.

He chuckled. “No, milady. I didn’t. What I did read was your face, which is quite expressive.” When he leaned towards her, she stiffened, and Hades frowned. “What is wrong?”

“I can’t believe you’re even asking that question,” Ever muttered.

He raised a brow. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because!” She threw her hands up in frustration.

“Explain,” Hades commanded, not liking the way she was gazing at him now. It was as if he had disappointed her. Which was crazy, he thought, since he had never met her before this.

“I can’t believe you’re making me explain!” Ever shook her head in dismay. “And to think you even bit my ear—-”