Page 21 of Hades

Grief was something I didn’t understand. I had never lost anyone because I’d never really had anyone besides my mother. Sure, there were one or two men she dated who had been nice to me. I missed them when they’d finally had enough of my mother and left us.

But I didn’t grieve them.

I’d read articles by people who said they grieved the childhood they wished they’d had. I didn’t understand how you could grieve something you didn’t know. They didn’t have the childhood they wanted, but who was to say a different childhood would have been better?

“I should go. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Aspen said.

“Thank you.”

Aspen and I walked quietly through the hall until we reached the front door, Cerberus and Diesel beside us. We stepped out onto the porch, and Kraken caught my eye. He lumbered over, and I felt Aspen stiffen.

So it wasn’t just me. Diesel started to growl, and Kraken halted. Cerberus, feeding off Diesel, growled and stepped in front of Aspen and me.

“Cerberus,” I hissed. “Platz.” The command came out sharp, and Cerberus’ growl disappeared. Aspen looked down at Diesel, who had also gone quiet.

“How do you do that?” Aspen asked. “Diesel only ever listens to me or Banshee. Well, and King, but I think that’s out of fear.”

“Are those other Gods of Mayhem members?” I asked, ignoring her question.

“No, King is the president of the Silver Shadows in Nebraska. Banshee is a patched brother in the Silver Shadows, and he’s my old man. That’s where we live.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a parent.”

Aspen looked away. Her eyes trailed over the land, scanning the horizon like she was searching for something that didn’t exist anymore. “Thank you.”

“I should go,” I said, the awkwardness settling over me. The vibes here weren’t just grief. Pain screamed into the air, sharp and unrelenting. A pain I didn’t understand, couldn’t name, but felt pressing against my chest like a physical weight.

As I stepped down the stairs, the rumble of motorcycles cut through the air with a deep, throaty sound that vibrated in your bones. I paused as a van pulled up to the steps. Men climbed out while one remained in his seat.

Waiting.

Watching.

Assessing.

His eyes met mine and narrowed, sharp and calculating, like he was peeling back layers I didn’t know I had. He was handsome; the shaggy cut of his hair showed streaks of light blond mixed with darker shades. His green eyes pierced through me as if he were reading my fucking soul, cataloging every secret I’d ever kept, every dark thought I’d ever had.

The men moved around us, barking orders, while he stayed in his seat, arm resting on the open window. Casual. But there was nothing casual about the way he watched me. Like a predator sizing up prey.

“Lo, you ready?”

“Yeah,” the man said, his voice defeated. Hollow and broken, like something fundamental had been ripped out of him. His focus cut from me to Kraken, who opened the door. Kraken lifted the man into his arms like he weighed nothing, and my brows crinkled together. Could he not walk on his own? Was he injured, or⁠—

“Apollo injured his back,” Aspen whispered beside me.

“Oh, that’s awful.” I turned to look at her. “Is it permanent?”

“We’re not sure. The doctors said it could take weeks for the swelling to go down. But I’m optimistic. I have a friend back home in Nebraska who fell off his horse a few months back, and he’s starting to feel sensations and sporadic movements again. He’s in physical therapy learning how to walk again.”

Kraken disappeared inside the house with Apollo. The door hadn’t closed yet before Zeus, Rhea’s son, slammed it open and stormed outside.

I’d met Zeus once at the market in town when he was there with Rhea. I didn’t like him. He was arrogant and crass, the kind of man who took up too much space and expected everyone to move around him. Watching him stomp across the yard to the newcomers only reaffirmed my dislike.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he yelled in the face of a tall young man.

“Kane, he’s my son,” Diana shouted as she trailed behind her brother. I should have left, but the scene unfolding in front of me was too intriguing. These people called out to me. Not all of them. Not Zeus, but his sisters. Something about them resonated, like recognizing your own reflection in a stranger’s face.