Page 56 of Going to Hell
“Speak your thoughts.” The words echoed, not only in the air around us but also in my head.
I could feel him there, inside of me, and knew I wasn’t imagining it when my mouth opened without my permission.
“I want to go home.”
After endless days without speaking, the words were barely more than a rasp. But nothing had ever sounded better in my life.
I could speak.
Finally.
I loved the sound of it. I loved the freedom of it. So much so that I tried saying something else just to see if I could.
“I don’t belong here.” Those words were stronger. Clearer.
Tears rolled down my cheeks but, this time, in relief. Hades’ command had broken the shitty druid spell.
“At last,” Hades breathed, cutting into my thoughts. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and he looked so self-satisfied standing there in front of me. My gaze dipped to his slightly curving mouth and a shiver raced through me. I could still feel his lips against mine.
“Speak your price, and I will free you from this place.”
I frowned in confusion.
“I have no price,” I said.
His beautifully arched brows furrowed.
“Cease your games. You know what you must do. Lie with me, allow me the pleasure of your body, and you will have your freedom.”
Well, that was pretty clear.
I swallowed hard and averted my gaze as my mind raced. The idea of having sex with Hades to get back home made my pulse race. Only partially with terror, though, which said a lot about how badly I needed to leave this place.
If he was telling the truth, I had the answer for how to get out of Hell. But what were the chances gods lied like creatures did to get their way? I considered all the power that Hades had shown and doubted lies were necessary. Either way, truth or lie, I couldn’t have sex with him under false pretenses, which is what it would be since he obviously thought I was Persephone.
And I doubted telling him the truth would be the key to my freedom. If anything, telling him I wasn’t the one he loved would be the key to my death. I was a living human in Hell. I didn’t belong here. On the other hand, what would he do to me if I didn’t tell him now, when I had the chance, and he found out later?
He would kill me. Why was the answer to every question my death?
I couldn’t believe that, after how long I’d waited to speak, I didn’t know what to say. He seemed to see the hesitation in my eyes, too, because he slowly shook his head.
“You will not return to your silence.”
“I don’t want to,” I whispered.
He looked at me suspiciously.
“Good. Then tell me your answer.”
“Can I finish eating first?” I asked, trying to buy myself time to think.
He retreated a few steps, giving me room to sit. I could feel his eyes on me as he moved around the table and paced in front of me like a caged animal, still watching me closely when I picked up my trident fork to eat. Each back and forth movement grew more aggressive than the last.
“The stew is good,” I said, hoping to appease him.
He stopped in his tracks. Not brave enough to look up and gauge his mood, I found another root vegetable and quickly shoved it into my mouth. He slowly stalked toward the table and squatted to stare at me with an intensity that made my stomach churn.
“False words fall from your lips as beautifully as the truth.”
