Page 10 of Queen of Tempests and Sin

‘Who made you the god of gloomy-gits today?’ Persephone asked, a brow quirked as she studied me like a mildly interesting piece of driftwood. I narrowed my eyes and flattened my lips. ‘Well, your face is all sorts of pissed off,’ she added, flinging her hands up as Hades pressed his lips together, likely in an attempt to suppress a laugh. I heard Erebus cough—clearly entertained by her impudence. As I said earlier, she’s an aggravating spitfire.

‘Good to see you too, Persephone.’ I gave her a flat stare, and she returned it with a wicked smile, clearly enjoying herself. She loved to needle me, but I’d seen through her games long ago. ‘I assume you’ve had an enjoyable vacation thus far?’

I zoned out as Persephone launched into an overly detailed rundown of their idyllic days. Hades watched her with a look of complete devotion that made my stomach curdle. Ugh. Love. It kills more fucking brain cells than crystal meth. Females were a no-go for me… They’re nothing but drama, sharp tongues, and headaches.

Eventually, Hades and I veered into business, with Persephone occasionally chiming in between sips of something pink and bubbly.

‘So, you’re decreeing stricter laws worldwide for the ocean, I hear?’ Hades asked, his voice casual.

The subject made me cranky. ‘Yes. A directive will be issued—anyone caught violating marine law will face execution.’ Hades nodded slowly, but Persephone's smile faltered, just for a second.

Human greed was their downfall, and the way they had treated the earth and the oceans before we regained control was unacceptable. Much had changed, but certain countries were still flouting our laws. I could feel rage flashing through my blood.

‘Ninety percent of large fish populations were exterminated before we regained control. It decimated my ocean ecosystem.’ My voice was a low rumble, fury coiling tight in my chest. ‘We’ve made progress, but some nations still dare to flout our mandates. That ends now. Anybody caught exceeding their quota, or fishing restricted species, will feel my wrath.’

Only idiots believed in throwing the vilest of criminals into jail, with free food, exercise, no bills, and warm beds. Our justice was a whole lot tougher—some would say archaic—but it was much more effective in reducing crime rates. That's how you stop rot from spreading.

‘Whoa…’ Persephone stood abruptly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally with you on this.’ She waved a finger in the air like she was preaching gospel, then turned to Hades. ‘But seriously, let’s eat before he blows a gasket. Your brother is obviously wangry.’

‘Wangry?’ Hades tilted his head, intrigued.

‘Yeah. Like hangry but with wine.’ She grinned, completely unbothered by the divine tension she’d just sliced through.

I narrowed my eyes, but dammit—she had a point; not that I’d admit it.

Hades looked up at her like she’d personally re-lit every star in the cosmos. Lovesick idiot. I bit my lips and rolled my eyes as I rose to follow them to the restaurant, our bodyguards front and back. I glowered at Erebus, who had a half-smirk on his face. Of course he found this funny.

His outspoken queen was the only being alive who could constantly push the gods’ buttons and walk away without a single lightning bolt singeing her hem. She was a brazen, insufferable hellcat who shattered protocol like it was glass under her heel.

What in Olympus my brother saw in her, I’d never understand.

CHAPTER 4

CORDELIA

Iawoke ridiculously early to sunlight spilling through the curtains in soft honeycomb-yellow rays as I stretched and yawned, blinking at the clock.

I’d slept for a good twenty hours, and I was ravenous. Kicking off the duvet, I stood, the wooden floor cold under my feet as I strolled to the window. Pressing my head against the cool glass, I blew out a long breath, then opened the doors and stepped out onto the spacious balcony.

The light of dawn seeped through the gauzy clouds—the sun a pearly glow in the sky, its muted light skimming the green-blue ocean, casting shimmering paths across the surface. The rear of the hotel was magnificent—meticulously sculpted gardens sloped towards a sun-kissed beach, stirred by the breeze and dotted with palm shadows. I stood there for a few minutes, soaking it in.

I rang room service for coffee and breakfast, then took a moment to explore the suite. It was opulence wrapped in elegance. The soft grey-blue walls reminded me of a restless tide caught in a painter’s brushstroke, and the plush sea-blue and foamy white bedding made the room feel like an extension of the ocean below. The sofa was ivory velvet, and I trailed my fingers across it as I walked past. A bookcase stood against one wall, filled with titles from all genres, and side tables, a desk, and a small dressing table, all made of smooth cream wood, were arranged with meticulous balance.

Through one door I found a large walk-in closet, perfect for stowing my luggage. Another door led to a bathroom that looked like something out of a high-end spa—huge rainfall shower, deep freestanding tub, high-end toiletries in a woven basket, and a gilded mirror that caught the light like fire.

I caught my reflection in the mirror and winced—I was a hot mess. Hair mussed, skin creased from sleep. I smoothed my hair back as I gave myself a quick once-over.

Time to scrub up. Mission prep could wait a few more hours.

Breakfast arrived, and I sat on the balcony to eat, a fantasy romance open on the table. The sun glowed molten gold, irradiating the water—its rays dancing like a myriad of shimmering silver frazil ice over the surface. The ocean's dreamy, rhythmic pulse helped detangle the knots in my muscles… its symphony was unmatched.

I missed the sea.

Memories came—the bright sunlight caressing my skin. Golden-white sands and deep-blue waters. Laughter. Happiness… I missed my mom.

We’d lived by the ocean when I was a small girl—she met Drakos when I was a wee, innocent little thing. Eventually, my life changed dramatically, especially once her illness took hold, not long after Guinn was born. When she died, Drakos uprooted us from America to England, relocating his stronghold. I was fourteen. But honestly, my life had already taken a turn for the worse well before then.

I blew out another long breath, sinking into the weight of my sadness. I could stomp my feet, cry, and yell about how unfair life was, but what would that achieve? There was no point getting twisted up about things I couldn’t change. So many things in my life had been unfair, but I needed to generate my wins, not my losses. I needed to concentrate on my plan for the future.