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The stench of burnt demon flesh still clung to the night air. The rogues lay in heaps of twisted bodies, slain so effortlessly by Hades' wrath that the earth itself seemed to recoil. Their blood glistened black under the pale moonlight, soaking into the soil of the clearing where betrayal had come to life.
Velia and Gavriel stood cornered against the stone arch of the ruined shrine where they had lured Hazel. Their once-poised expressions were crumbling, panic rippling beneath their polished facades. Gavriel's sword hand trembled as he tried to steady himself, while Velia's serpentine eyes darted from Hazel's battered figure to Hades' towering presence.
The King of the Underworld was not a man at that moment—he was an apocalypse in flesh. His aura expanded outward, oppressive, suffocating, pressing against their lungs as if the air itself had turned hostile. His crimson eyes burned like two dying suns, and his voice when it came was a blade dipped in fire.
"You dared." His tone was low, deadly, shaking with controlled rage. "You dared to lay a hand on what is mine."
Velia's lip curled, though her defiance cracked with desperation. "She was never meant to last here. A fragile little mortal parading as a queen. You blind yourself with her—"
"Silence." The single word silenced the forest itself. Birds stilled, the wind stopped, even the flames of Hades' power flickered into a dangerous calm.
Gavriel fell to his knees, armor scraping against the earth. His face was pale, sweat dripping from his brow. "My king—please—it was Velia's scheme. She convinced me… I—I only obeyed because I feared disobeying her might expose us both to your wrath."
Velia hissed, snapping her gaze toward him, betrayal sharp on her tongue. "Liar! You were the one whispering in shadows, the one who led me to the rogues, the one who said the queen was a threat!"
Hades' glare cut through them both, his aura tightening like a vice. "Pathetic. You would kill each other with your tongues to escape my hand."
Hazel, weak and wounded, leaned against a broken pillar, her breaths shallow. Yet even through her haze she could feel the storm of fury in Hades' veins. She had never seen him so close to unleashing everything, to obliterating not just bodies but souls.
Velia suddenly fell to her knees, her serpentine beauty cracking as tears streaked down her painted face. "Please, my king. I only did this because I love you. I have always loved you! How many times did you take me into your arms? How many nights did you whisper my name? And now you throw me aside for her—this human interloper—"
The earth shook as Hades' power surged, his shadow rising behind him in a monstrous form, horns curving, wings spreading like the death of light. His voice thundered.
"You dare to speak of love while plotting the murder of my queen? You are nothing but venom. A stain I should have purged long ago."
Velia recoiled as if struck, sobbing, but her tears did not move him.
He turned his gaze on Gavriel, whose trembling lips tried to form excuses. "You swore your loyalty to me, and in return I gave you power, protection, a place among my trusted. And this is your repayment? To conspire with my discarded whore and draw blades against your queen?"
"My king—please, I—" Gavriel's voice broke. "I thought she was a danger to the Citadel. I thought—"
"No." Hades' voice shook the ground. "You thought of yourself. Of your petty fears, your ambitions, your lust. You thought me blind." His hand lifted, shadows curling like a noose around Gavriel's throat. Gavriel choked, clawing at the invisible grip, face turning purple.
Hazel, through her pain, whispered hoarsely. "Hades… stop."
His head snapped toward her, fury dimming for a heartbeat. Her silver hair clung to her sweat-streaked face, her lips trembled, and blood dripped from the gash on her arm. But her eyes—those strange eyes he could not pierce—pleaded with him.
"Don't kill them," she said, voice shaking but firm. "Don't become what they are."
The shadows tightened once more, Gavriel's body convulsing. Velia cried out in terror. Then, slowly, with a growl that was more beast than man, Hades flung Gavriel aside. The traitor crashed into the stone wall, gasping and heaving, but alive.
Hades' glare pierced them both. "You will not die by my hand tonight. Death is too merciful for you." His voice rang with finality, dark and divine. "I strip you of all title, of all rank, of all sanctuary within my realm. From this night forth, you are banished. Step foot within my Citadel again, and I will tear your souls apart grain by grain until not even memory remains."
Velia's sobs turned to wails. Gavriel's head sank low, his shame radiating like a foul stench. Neither dared defy him. They knew exile from the Citadel was worse than death—it meant losing power, allies, shelter, everything.
Hades turned his back on them, as though they no longer existed. His every step toward Hazel was a thunderclap, the fury around him dimming into something else—something deeper, sharper.
He reached her, and for the first time that night his hands softened. He scooped her into his arms with such care that it almost broke her. The heat of his body engulfed her, his scent wrapping around her like smoke and steel.
"Why?" His voice was low now, rough, the fury replaced by something rawer. "Why would you follow him? Did you wish to die tonight?"
Hazel's lips parted, but no words came. Her throat tightened. Tears slipped down her cheeks unbidden. She wanted to scream that she hadn't meant for this, that she had only wanted answers, that she had never expected Gavriel and Velia's treachery. But the words stuck like thorns.
Instead, something stronger than thought guided her. She lifted her hand, trembling and bloodied, and pressed it against his jaw. Then, with the last of her strength, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.
Hades froze, every muscle in his body locking. His eyes widened, crimson fire dimming into something more dangerous—longing.
The kiss was soft, trembling, but it carried everything Hazel could not say: her fear, her relief, her gratitude, her confusion. And somewhere tangled within, something deeper—an ache that had been building since the first time his gaze had burned into her soul.
For Hades, it was like fire meeting fire. Her lips were warmth and defiance and fragility all at once, and it shattered the iron walls he had spent centuries erecting.
Hades froze at first, shocked by the suddenness of her kiss. But then the fire in him shifted, not of rage, but something deeper, hungrier, painfully alive. He kissed her back, slow at first, then with desperate intensity, as if he had nearly lost her forever.
The King who had commanded armies, who had stood unshaken against gods and monsters, now trembled under the gentle press of her mouth.
When they pulled apart, breathless, his forehead rested against hers, his voice a whisper no one else would ever hear.
"You drive me mad," he confessed, voice rough with a tenderness he had sworn never to feel again. "And I cannot let you go."
Hazel's tears still fell, but her lips curved faintly. She didn't know if it made sense but she felt so warm in his cold embrace.