Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The thoughts race around my mind, growing and spreading until my breath comes shorter. I felt the heat of my palm on the crystals, but now they are like ice under my fingers. Ice. The chill spreads all through my body and to my head, freezing my thoughts.
With no way to anchor myself, I’m lightheaded and lost in the dark. It only grows deeper. I drag in one final breath, and then even the darkness is gone.
HADES
She’s fucking gorgeous.
My heart races as I stare at her and the pounding in my chest grows louder and louder. The temptation to have her is realized. I’ve never felt such lust before.
Persephone lies on my bed, her pale skin almost glowing against the dark silk sheets. Someone with eyes less sharp than mine could mistake her for dead. That’s how deeply she sleeps. That’s how deeply she had to sleep so she could be brought to me. There was no fight, I was told. Lost in thought and casting a spell, it was the perfect time. Her soul open for the taking.
No time seems to pass while I watch her chest rise and fall, each breath a sign of the life that shines within her like the light of the worlds above. The faint clinking can be heard and I wave a hand to mute it. I need not wake my queen even if she is held there in chains formed from my power.
Faintly I wonder of her concern when she realizes she is bound to the bedchambers. I wonder if her power will allow her to break them, but the thought is quickly relinquished. She is held here by fate. She will not leave until she submits to this reality.
My chambers, already decorated in a dark, opulent scheme, seem even darker with her brightness in it. A deep hum of satisfaction rises in my chest.
When she is asleep, the chains are like shadows around her wrists and ankles. They do not carry weight, they do not have a feel to them whatsoever, but if she were to fight against them, they’d keep her in place. They darken in color when Persephone stirs, my power tightening on her delicate wrists to be sure she does not escape.
Again an odd sensation stirs in my chest, almost like doubt or regret, but how could I doubt her? How could I possibly regret finally having the perfect match to myself?
Persephone stirs again and my breath stills. It’s as if the entirety of the Underworld is holding its breath with me, waiting for her to wake.
A beat of my heart deepens lowly, almost painfully. She will rule them all beside me.
Thump, she is mine. And this world is hers. A gift she mustn’t take lightly.
Thump. Every second she lays there seems an eternity. She must wake. She must agree to submit and accept the honor I have given her. She will be perfect. Even if she fights first, I remind myself, is that not admirable? Does that not add to her allure?
Fuck, my cock hardens, craving the fight. Quietly, I pace back to the window, attempting to rein in the desire that lights its way through my veins.
I have not been able to sit for hours in my impatience. I haven’t felt this alive in years. I have never felt so alive. Because I’ve never had her. I’ve never had a soul so truly mine. My half in this world that I’ve been condemned to. The fates are never wrong. They said I’d have her.
I have her.
I have her.
The thrill is nearly too strong to contain. Only my years of self-control allow me to hover nearby without touching her. She will wake when she wakes and the anticipation is delightful. A feeling I’ve never experienced.
I stalk nearer to the bed, my pulse thundering in anticipation. The sound of my heartbeat drowns out the thick silence in the room. The Underworld is waking for the morning, and I am surrounded by its workings. New souls will be arriving through the River Styx. The dead are at peace in Elysium.
And I am here, waiting for my Persephone, my queen, my wife, my own heaven in this hell. It is much more difficult now that she’s within my sight. That is a paradox I did not expect. I was impatient before, but now I am ravenous for her presence. I crave to see the fear in her eyes. I desire even more so her submission.
My patience was hard-won. I will not rush this process. It has been foretold by fate itself, and I will not intervene.
Not when it comes to her waking, at least.
Persephone sleeps for another stretch, her body relaxing against the sheets. Her poor beautiful soul has no idea. The thought is thrilling. The chains binding her to the bed become translucent in the absence of her movement. When the daylight from the windows touches them, they seem to absorb it, turning the light into indestructible shadows.