My eyebrow kicked up, but I said nothing. Nothing had changed in this castle in a century. He was making small talk—buttering me up, and that made my skin crawl. Hermes never took the risk of visiting me unless it benefited him. "And you look as lovely as ever, dear friend. But let us not mince words, you’re here for something."
Hermes was about to protest, but he stopped himself with a deep sigh. He reached into the briefcase seated on the table between us and pulled out a newspaper. I didn’t need to look at the letterhead to know it was Hermes’s own brand. Zeus heavily regulated all media in Olympiara, making Hermes’s news the only news. He passed the paper to me, and my immortal heart went cold.
Hermes leaned back and crossed his arms. "Zeus had me send this to my chief editor last night. We sent it out this morning."
A sharp snarl tore from my throat, and I threw the paper onto the table between us. "This is utter horseshit!"
Ignoring the fact that I had sent an undead soul to the land of the living. Wolfe wasn't spreading this blight. He was an assassin, big fucking difference. "How dare you accuse me of this bullshit?"
Hermes shrugged. "Zeus sent this to me two days ago, and I let you know immediately. You're welcome, by the way."
My gaze snapped to his steel-blue eyes. "You're welcome?" I mimicked, thrusting my finger at the paper. "You know damn well I didn't do this! Friends don't accuse friends of starting a blight, darling!"
Indignation filled Hermes’s gaze, and he jumped to his feet. "And you know damn well I have no say in what goes into my paper. I include it if Zeus demands it. I risked my feathered ass to come here and warn you he was planning something, and this is the thanks I get from one of my oldest friends?"
I sprang to my feet as well, the chaise screeching and echoing through the chambers. "He is vilifying me, Hermes! Just like he did when he threw me away and cursed me to rot in this cage, and you're enabling him to do it!"
Hermes bared his teeth in distaste. His massive wings ruffled at his sides and stretched to make him appear bigger. When he spoke, his tone was calm but deadly. "Don't forget that we are all just as trapped as you are."
I choked on a laugh. "Oh yes, you in your penthouse surrounded by whores, I'm sure you're suffering so much."
His eyes shimmered in the flickering purple light. Instead of responding, he disappeared in a flurry of feathers, leaving me alone with my hopeless rage.
I screamed and grabbed the newspaper to hurl it across the room and take out a sconce along the wall. Zeus was cursing my name again. I shouldn't have been surprised, yet my heart was breaking. My brothers and I had stood tall together until Zeus decided it was in his best interest to betray me for power. The devout had once worshipped me, but now they worshipped the idea of me. An idea that was carefully curated by my brother while I was trapped in this cell of death and despair. I hated him for it. I hated them all for letting him do it.
Hermes was right, though. They had as little say as I did. Zeus was enigmatic, powerful, and driven, which was a deadly combination on its own. With Poseidon controlling the borders and water supply, and me controlling the dead, he had held the tools to become unstoppable. There was no changing that. Maybe I was angry at myself for the hand I had in sealing my fate. Never again.
My eyes flickered to the doorway. Wide, glacial eye sockets stared back at me, and my rage erupted. How dare that vermin spy on me?
Why the fuck had I pulled his soul out of the pit? I convinced myself it was because his skill set was beneficial to my goals, but that reasoning felt hollow. An insecure part of me wanted to win him over and show him I wasn't the villain he knew me as. It was a weak voice buried in the pit of my gut that refused to die despite my smothering it. That naïve little girl still clutching a sliver of my heart needed a friend—didn't want to be hated. Acknowledging that made me want to smite the pest where he stood.
I stormed across the space between us, purple flames licking up my forearms from my fists. My footsteps sizzled on the obsidian floor. I reached the door and threw it open. It hit the decorated wall with a bang that shuddered the chandeliers. "Why are you spying on me!" I shouted.
His expression was unaffected by my fury, and I gritted my teeth at his apathy. I grabbed his shirt and slammed him into the far wall. My knuckles brushed his clavicle, just beneath the gemstone now fused there. His icy skin snuffed the raging inferno at my hands. I paused, my eyes widening at the gap in my fire—my security.
Icy fingers skirted along my fist, sending shivers up my spine. There was blood crusting his nail beds. "I didn't mean to, Master. But I understand."
He snuffed my flames like a bucket of ice water. We had done nothing but hurt each other, but the softness in those frostbitten eyes hurt more than anything he had done to me in a century. I dropped him. "You understand nothing."
"I understand pain." Though he straightened, he remained pressed against the wall. His gaze was wide, and his head dipped in a show of submission. "Your brother shucked you to the side and left you to rot, and my parents threw me away like trash. I was fortunate that the Hydras took me in, but I had to make myself useful so my newfound family wouldn’t leave me too. No one stepped in to save you, so you've erected fiery walls to ensure no one gets past them again."
My shoulders slouched. His compassion made my skin itch. It didn't fit, like a game of dice where he rolled a thirteen. I rolled my shoulders and stepped away from him. "None of that matters."
He shrugged. “I’ve fought you for one hundred years, and I’m tired. You need an assassin, and I am happy to be one. Perhaps an understanding between us is all that matters."
CHAPTER 10
WOLFE
We stood in silence with the weight of unspoken tension between us. My soul was weary and desperate to be near her after so many days apart, but the scene I had happened upon had opened my eyes, leaving my mind in an unsteady churn.
It didn't resolve my hatred for her, of that I was certain. She was still a monster, but a veil had lifted to show the woman beneath. Her own brother had vilified her—was vilifying her. Olympiara told the populace to love Zeus, but they taught us to fear Hades. That fear came with a healthy dose of respect, but textbooks described her as vindictive and hateful. Devout, goddess-fearing families went daily and donated gifts to Hades in a desperate attempt to win her fickle favor. She likely didn’t even receive them.
Was everything I knew about the immortal a lie?
My torture wasn't a lie. Her purchasing my soul wasn't either. She was a wretched creature, but wasn't I as well? Maybe that was why my stomach was doing backflips. Because I deserved the punishment I received. I was an evil man who had earned every minute of my suffering in the afterlife. Despite her actions taking a vindictive edge, Hades had simply been doing her job in torturing the sinful.
Then there was the moment she had pinned me against the wall. My dick was still aching from the contact. In my line of work, it would have been unwise to get involved with a partner, but there had been a courtesan that I frequented. Lacey had been particularly skilled in domination and degradation. It was a secret I had taken to my grave and only shared with her under the threat of a slow death, but my profession of dominating others had left me wanting to give control to someone else. The pain, the punishment, it had been a euphoria I crawled back to over and over. Hades was stirring up those feelings, and I needed to destroy them before I did something I regretted.