Page 130 of Hades

“Because if it came from your hands,” he said, “I’d take it. Poison or not. Death or life. Doesn’t matter.” His thumb brushed across my cheekbone. “I’d take anything you gave me, baby, and I’d thank you for it.”

The tears came then. Hot and fast, and unstoppable.

He pulled me against his chest, wrapped his arms around me, and held me while I shook.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.”

I believed him.

For the first time in my life, I believed someone saw all of me and stayed anyway.

Not because they didn’t know better.

But because they did.

And they chose me anyway.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Hades

The clubhouse felt wrong.

Not dangerous wrong. Not the kind of wrong that made you reach for your piece or check your six. Just off. Like the air pressure had shifted and nobody else had noticed yet.

I sat at the bar nursing a whiskey I didn’t want, watching the room move around me. Voices overlapping. Glasses hitting wood. The low hum of men trying to pretend everything was normal when it fucking wasn’t.

Zeus would call church soon. I could feel it coming, the way you felt a storm building before the first drops fell.

And I was carrying a secret that could destroy everything.

Lettie.

My woman. My queen. My fucking problem.

Because she was the vigilante. The one poisoning men and women across Texas. The one Coeus was hunting. The one Zeus would demand answers about if the investigation got too close.

And I’d chosen her anyway.

Drank her tea. Kissed her hands. Claimed her body. Told her I’d burn the world down before I let anyone take her from me.

I meant every fucking word.

The clubhouse doors swung open. Conversations cut off mid-sentence when Kraken walked in, followed by Eros.

No Poseidon.

That absence hit first, landing heavy and immediate. A wrongness settled over the room before anyone spoke. Eyes tracked past Kraken and Eros automatically, like Poseidon might still appear behind them. Like he might just be a step slower.

He didn’t.

Kraken moved further inside. Eros followed.

Pale. Worn down. He looked worse than he had in the hospital. Stubborn fucking fool would rather bleed out in a ditch than look weak. But I saw the strain immediately. The careful way he moved, the stiffness in his body, the gray cast under his skin.

The rage banked behind his eyes.

Eros was home.