Page 70 of Raising Hell
“The river Lethe is for the souls who wish to forget their mortal lives before the river Acheron carries them to their final resting places. The rivers Cocytus and Phlegethon branch from Acheron.”
He reached over my shoulder to point to the meadows to the left.
“From here, we could once see the wandering, lost souls.” He lowered his hand to my shoulder, his fingers toying with my skin. “Their hopelessness didn’t bring you peace. Instead, you saw their movement as freedom when you felt trapped.”
“Persephone saw that. This is my first view from here, and I don’t see anything but empty fields.”
“In every direction, except for Tartarus,” Hades said, turning me to the right, “souls once wandered freely in their designated resting places. Free them, Ashlyn. Give them peace or torment as justly dictated by their mortal lives.”
I thought of my uncle and the resigned way he’d returned to the other souls in that sad, empty room.
“Where will my uncle go?” I asked. “Tartarus? Isn’t that where souls of the damned go?”
Hades’ hands rested on my shoulders, heating my skin and distracting me from some of my worries.
“Free them all and choose where he rests.”
“I want him to choose. He didn’t have that ability in life. At least, not a lot of it.”
“So be it.”
Hades turned me around. Due to the narrow path, I grabbed for him. My hands landed on his bare waist at the same time I saw that he’d ditched his pants and was very happy to see me. I almost looked up but realized that was just as dangerous as looking down. Before I could decide the safest course, I saw the script glowing on his left hip.
“Haven’t we removed enough of these contracts to relocate these lower ones to a safer place?”
“And deny myself your touch where I crave it most? Never. Set your fingers upon me and free all the souls. Free your uncle.”
I didn’t miss the hint of mocking in his voice when he said, “uncle.”
“What happened to willing touches?”
“This is your choice. I am not forcing you.”
I wanted to argue my willing touch in this instance was no different than my willing touch to keep Earth safe but knew it would only provoke him into making things shake again. And hugging him while he was pantsless would either be extremely awkward or much too enjoyable.
“Fine.” Grounding myself in the moment and my intent, I traced my fingers over the words and tried not to notice how things twitched in response. Or my reaction to the twitching. It was impossible to ignore his groan, though, or how his hands gripped my shoulders.
“Yes,” he breathed.
Heat gathered in my cheeks then spread south. I traced faster, watching the script lift. The second the last of the gold vanished from his skin, I jerked my hand away and turned around. He pulled me back against his chest, which I didn’t mind, given the drop in front of me.
The gold threads swirled in the air.
“Tell me what trinket you desire, and it is yours.”
“A chain for my ankle. Something delicate.”
“So be it,” he said huskily, brushing his lips against my ear. My insides went molten as the chain formed in front of me. Not looking at him wasn’t easing my need for him at all. I wanted to turn around and rub myself against him like a cat on a pole.
A disgruntled noise almost escaped me. I cleared my throat again and tried to distract us both.
“What happens now? With the souls, I mean. Does someone need to show them how to get to their resting places?”
“I will move them to the river Styx. From there, they will board the ferries. The waters will judge them justly and send them where they belong. Your uncle will choose his fate.”
“Will I be able to visit him?”
“Certainly.”
