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)
Hot shame spreads across my face. I close my eyes and try to stop listening.
I can’t.
I resolve to listen without caring instead.
I can’t.
Another rustling sound. I peek out of the corner of my eye.
Hades has opened an arm to me, his hand nearly touching my shoulder. His masculinity is on full display with his carved muscles. A different temptation sweeps over me. Almost like protection… like a savior. I would only have to turn over, and I would be wrapped in his arms with warmth and an offering I can hardly refuse: my powers. My magic. I would barely have to lift my head, and I would be in his arms, offering.
I close my eyes again. My chest aches, needy and tired. My body wants the warmth he offers. My body is a traitor, because it already wants to bend to his demands, if only to have food and drink. If only to have a taste of the power I’d begun to lose.
Would I be able to stop if I caved? Or would I fall desperately into madness. I’ve heard tales of Hades’s brutality and surely this is weak compared to the stories. I almost tipped the bottle of wine to my mouth and splashed it all over my face in my desperation. Would I be able to hold myself back from Hades?
He sighs in the dark, a deep low sound of almost pleasure. “You will come in the night. It is not shameful.”
It is not my choice, I want to tell him, but I cannot bring myself to speak. I fear too many other words would come with that admission. I fear I would tell him of the secret shame that grows behind my ribs and between my legs with every minute that ticks past.
It’s the shame of wanting him. It’s the shame of wanting to give in. Everything about this is shameful. To bow down seemingly willingly although I’ve been given no choice. I have only shreds of my dignity left, and if I do not guard them with everything I have, I will be left with nothing.
“I will care for you,” he adds. “Even if you do not care for yourself.”
Anger simmers but only dully. As if he knows anything about me to that extent. I do not say a word.
I think, for a few moments, that he will offer me some of the blanket he brought with him, or cover me with it, the way he did last night.
Instead, he rises up from the bed. I lay with my eyes closed until it dips again, then open them and look.
He has brought food on a small plate, and he sits on the edge of the bed, the night lighting his face. My heart races at the regal lines of his beauty. The harsh, handsome face that brooks no argument. The power that sings in the air when he’s here. This is his realm, and he rules, and yet he sits here next to me, an offering in his hands. Slowly, I sit up to see him more clearly, keeping the sheets clutched to my chest.
My mouth waters. It has nothing to do with the food on the plate.
Hades holds the plate out. Not quite offering it to me, but showing me what he’s brought.
“You desire these do you not?” he asks with the plate of stuffed vine leaves and marinated feta. Some of my favorite bites. As if he knows my cravings.
With strong fingers, he picks up a morsel and holds it to my lips. I desire to take it into my mouth so badly that I tremble from head to toe, but I don’t let myself do it. I want to lick the food off his fingers.
“If you eat…”
He lets his words trail off and doesn’t finish.
When I open my mouth, my lip brushes the morsel of food. “What will you give me?”
“Nourishment so you can gain your strength.”
With those words, it seems to me that he is taking back some kind of deal.
Of course. Nothing he offers me comes without consequences. Nothing is offered without an implicit contract between us. Not even one bite of food. Not even a scrap of warmth.
I pull my head back an inch, clamping my mouth shut tight and raising my chin.
Hades makes a soft sound. Whether it’s disappointment or frustration, I cannot tell.
As soon as Hades stands, I lie back down on the pillow, shaking harder with the near miss. I almost gave in. I almost let him feed me. I almost lost.
His footsteps move around the bed.
There’s a soft click as he puts the plate on the table next to my pillow.
I do not move.
His footsteps retreat to the other side, and the mattress dips again. He climbs into the bed and turns onto his side, his back to me.