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The room was quiet, but not in the usual serene way it often felt. Tonight, the silence pressed against me, thick and heavy, like the walls of the Citadel themselves were leaning in, judging me. I had taken to sitting by the window, a book resting on my lap, though I hadn't truly read a word. The stories from my world blurred in my mind, mingling with the reality I now inhabited.
The Nxymoor outing still lingered in my veins—the wind whipping against my hair, the fresh earthy scent after the rains, the raw energy of the outdoors that had made me feel alive, unshackled, even for a moment.
Here, in the Citadel, nothing moved freely. The walls were dark, cold, and heavy, and the air smelled faintly of stone and soot, tempered by faint undertones of Hades' lingering aura. Even the torchlight flickering along the obsidian corridors felt artificial, confined. I realized, with an almost painful clarity, how suffocated I felt. I had wanted to leave the castle for just a while, to feel sunlight on my skin again, to remind myself that life extended beyond these walls.
A sound at the door startled me, a soft creak followed by the deliberate click of armored boots. I barely had time to register it before the door opened, and Hades stepped inside. I had waited up for him tonight—the first time I had ever done so—and the thrill, tinged with nervous anticipation, made my chest beat faster.
He paused, observing me with those fiery eyes, unreadable yet heavy with something I couldn't name. There was a faint scent clinging to him, sharp and intoxicating, the lingering heat of the Sex Room mixed with his own scent. I set my book aside and straightened in my chair, trying to seem nonchalant, though I could feel my pulse betraying me.
"You're still awake," he said, voice low, measured, but carrying a hint of surprise.
"I was reading," I replied, lifting my book as if it had been my primary focus all along. "Thought I'd… wait for you tonight."
His lips curved in a fraction of a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He didn't let on how unusual it was for me to do this, though I sensed it. The distance in his gaze was deliberate, but beneath it, there was a warmth, subtle and restrained.
"Reading," he said again, the word almost teasing. "And here I was thinking you'd be asleep hours ago." He stepped fully into the room, and the soft click of his boots on the stone floor echoed in the space. "Why wait? Were you… missing me?"
I stiffened at the question, unsure how to answer. Part of me wanted to deny it, to play aloof, but another part—the part that had grown used to his presence, that longed for his attention even in the smallest ways—shivered under the subtle heat of his gaze.
"I—" I began, then stopped, choosing instead to voice the desire that had been simmering in me all evening. "I feel… stuck. I want to go out. Just for a little while. Outside the castle doors."
His eyes flickered, briefly sharp, assessing. Then he exhaled, soft and controlled. "You want to leave, have you forgotten what happened the last time you went out, you were attacked?"
I nodded, tugging at the edge of my sleeve. "The Nxymoor air, the outdoors… I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like I'm suffocating here. I'll have Miriam or better still Alyssa go with me, just for tomorrow."
He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and for a moment, I could almost imagine him glaring at me in that rare, private way he sometimes did. "You've been restless ever since you returned," he said, his tone neutral but carrying a subtle undercurrent I recognized all too well—the protective, possessive undertone that had grown around him like a second skin.
I braced myself as he finally stepped fully into the room, his presence pressing in, heat radiating from him like an invisible force. "What is it you do," I asked cautiously, "that keeps you out so late?"
Hades tilted his head slightly, considering how to phrase it. "I often visit the Sex Room," he admitted finally, his voice low, deliberate. "Since… since my wife doesn't give me what the incubus sex demons can."
My stomach dropped. My heart raced. The air suddenly felt too thick, too hot. I felt my own pulse in my ears. I blinked, unsure whether to step back or let him finish. He stepped closer, the heat from his body impossible to ignore, and spoke again, his tone softer now, almost teasing.
"It's… strange," he said, leaning slightly forward. "Since we married, I haven't had… well… with my own wife. Isn't that odd?"
I froze. My breath hitched. Something in his gaze was different tonight, warmer, more predatory, yet playful. I noticed a subtle haze about him, a slight drunkenness I hadn't seen before. The scent of Aphrodisiac seed, an intoxicating drink clung to him, sharp, a potent smell that made the air around us thrum with tension. I realized, with a flush spreading across my cheeks, that the drink was influencing him—and maybe, by extension, me.
He stepped even closer, and before I could respond, he sniffed lightly at the side of my neck, lingering at the nape of my hair. I froze completely, the hair on my arms standing on end as a shiver of anticipation and unease rolled down my spine. My hands clenched against my book, though the weight did little to steady me.
His fingers brushed my arms lightly, almost teasingly, and I felt the tingling sensations stir in places I didn't expect. His hand found its way to my hair, playing with it gently, and the warmth of his touch made my body betray me with its reactions. I thought of what I might have done if I were still Ariana, brash and uninhibited, unrestrained by fear or morality. But this—this was Hazel's body. I had to respect it. I had to respect myself.
"Hazel…" His voice was husky now, loaded with something unspoken. "You're… irresistible."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to step back, to pull away before I could lose control. "Hades," I said sharply, trying to inject authority into my trembling voice. "Stop. Please."
He paused, the tips of his fingers brushing mine as I moved away. His eyes, normally so guarded, held a storm of desire and longing I had never seen in him before. And yet, beneath it, I could sense a fleeting respect, an acknowledgment of my boundaries.
"I… apologize," he murmured, finally pulling back. His movements were deliberate, slow, as if savoring the moment but respecting the limits I set. He straightened, the aura of intensity still lingering, and took a step back toward the door. "I… Goodnight, Hazel. don't wait up for me,"
I exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to my chest as I tried to calm the rapid beat of my heart. My legs felt weak, my senses still buzzing from the proximity of him, the scent, the touch. I leaned against the chair, my book forgotten, my mind racing. The Citadel walls felt smaller than ever, the torchlight harsh and flickering, as if mocking the turmoil inside me.
I couldn't help but think about what had just happened. About the way he had approached me, the way the Aphrodisiac seed had colored his behavior, about the subtle tension that had coiled around us. I had felt desire—mine, his—but more than that, I had felt a test, a challenge, a glimpse into a part of him that was rarely revealed. And yet, he had pulled back, restrained himself. The self-control, the patience, the respect—it was all a part of him I was only beginning to understand.
I pressed my palms to my temples, trying to steady my thoughts. The longing, the tension, the curiosity—it all coalesced into a single, undeniable truth: I was drawn to him in ways I hadn't expected.
I rose from my chair, pacing the small space, the book still clutched in one hand. The Citadel felt suffocating, yes, but it was also home. And Hades—he was both the cage and the key, the danger and the protector.
A knock at the door startled me, though I knew it was only a servant delivering a late message. The reality of the castle, of its strict order, of the walls that had once felt protective, now felt like barriers I needed to overcome.
I exhaled, straightened my spine, and whispered to the empty room, "I can't let him see how much this affects me… not yet."
Outside, the torches flickered, casting long shadows across the floor. Inside, my heart raced, caught between fear, desire, and the strange, intoxicating thrill of knowing that Hades—my husband, my king—had left a part of himself in the room with me tonight. And I had left a part of myself with him, too.
I looked at the door he had exited from, the shadows pooling where he had stood, and allowed myself a small, shivering smile.
One day, I thought, I would step outside those walls again. One day, I would face the wind, the sun, and the world beyond the Citadel. But for now… I would face Hades. And perhaps, just perhaps, I would learn to navigate the storm he carried within him—and the storm I carried within myself.
The night stretched on, silent but charged. I returned to my book, but the words blurred, the pages unread. My mind replayed every detail, every touch, every look. And though I pushed down the desire, the tingling, the curiosity, I knew one thing with certainty: Hades' presence was a force I could not ignore.
And I didn't want to.
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