(Hazel's POV)
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The first thing I felt was warmth. Not the scorching, feverish fire that had consumed me for days—but a steady, human warmth. The kind that wrapped itself around you, gentle and alive, like sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm.
I stirred, the silk sheets rustling softly beneath me. My body felt light, though every bone still hummed with exhaustion. My throat was dry, my head slightly heavy. I blinked slowly, taking in the dim chamber. The curtains were half-drawn, bathing the room in gold-tinted shadow.
And there he was.
Hades sat beside me, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. His hair was unkempt—dark strands falling into eyes rimmed with fatigue—and the shadows beneath them told me he hadn't slept either. But what struck me most was how human he looked. The King of the Underworld, ruler of demons and shadows, looked… breakable.
He wasn't wearing his crown, his armor, or even his usual cold mask. Just a black tunic, sleeves rolled up, veins visible beneath the pale skin of his forearms. His gaze was fixed on me, and for a moment, I couldn't tell whether he was relieved or furious.
"Hades?" My voice came out weaker than I intended.
His head snapped up. That sharp, beautiful face softened in an instant, and before I could even move, he was already leaning toward me.
"You're awake," he breathed, the words carrying a thousand emotions—relief, fear, anger—all tangled in one. His hand cupped the side of my face as if afraid I'd disappear if he blinked.
I tried to smile, though it faltered halfway. "How long was I out?"
"Two days," he said quietly. His thumb brushed my cheek, and I realized then—his hands were trembling. "You've been unconscious for two days, Hazel."
Two days. The words hit me like a gust of wind. I glanced around—the bedside table was scattered with empty vials, wet towels, and herbs. Someone had been trying desperately to cool me down.
"I thought…" He stopped, his jaw tightening. "I thought I lost you."
I swallowed hard. "You didn't."
He looked away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You were burning up. Your body—your aura—it was unstable. None of the healers could touch you without blistering. I called every witch, every warlock I trusted, and still—nothing worked."
I hesitated. "Until Ares."
His name hung heavy in the air.
Hades stilled, his gaze snapping back to me. I saw the flicker of something dark in his eyes, something possessive. His lips pressed into a hard line. "Yes," he said tightly. "Until Ares."
I sat up slowly, the blanket falling from my shoulders. "Hades, he helped me—"
He rose abruptly, turning away from me before I could finish. "Don't."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried power. The kind that silenced the entire room. I froze, watching his back rise and fall as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Don't say his name like that," he muttered, his tone rough. "Not in front of me."
I frowned, my voice soft. "You can't be angry at him for saving my life."
He turned, his expression unreadable. "You think he did it out of kindness?"
My heart skipped. "Didn't he?"
A bitter laugh escaped him, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Hazel, Ares doesn't act without reason. He doesn't help unless there's something in it for him. He touched you because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it."
His words sent a ripple of emotion through me—anger, embarrassment, confusion. "You think I wanted that?" I snapped.
"I know you didn't," he said immediately. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to kill him for it."
There it was—the possessiveness that lurked beneath Hades' calm. His voice was quiet, but his aura flared like a storm on the horizon. The air around him shimmered with energy, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the faint glow of his demonic markings crawl across his skin.
I drew in a breath, trying to steady my tone. "Hades… I was dying."
He met my eyes, and whatever fire burned in his veins dimmed for a second. His expression softened, as if the memory itself pained him.
"I know," he whispered. "And that's the only reason Ares still breathes."
Silence settled between us, thick and uneasy. I wanted to reach for him, to touch his hand, but he looked too raw—too close to breaking.
Then, softer than a sigh, I said, "I just wanted to thank him. That's all."
Hades closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose. "You will not thank him."
My brows furrowed. "You can't keep me from—"
"I can, and I will," he interrupted. "Because I know what he wants. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's been coveting what's mine since the moment he laid eyes on you."
His words should've angered me. What's mine. The way he said it was both maddening and intoxicating.
I stared at him for a long moment. "You really think I belong to you?"
He didn't hesitate. "Yes."
There was no arrogance in his tone, just raw honesty. The kind that stripped away all pretense. "Not because I own you," he said slowly, stepping closer, "but because you're the only thing that's ever made me feel… alive."
Something inside me cracked then—not from fear, but from the weight of what he said.
He reached out, his hand hovering near my face, then dropped it, as though he didn't trust himself to touch me.
"You drive me insane, Hazel," he confessed quietly. "You make me want to be good and destroy everything in the same breath. And when I saw you like that—burning, screaming—something in me…" He trailed off, looking away. "Something in me broke."
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
The storm outside had calmed, leaving only the faint whisper of rain against the glass. Hades finally sank back onto the chair beside the bed, his hand brushing over mine. It was a cautious touch, hesitant, as though he was afraid I'd vanish again.
I turned my hand over and laced my fingers through his. "I didn't mean to scare you," I said softly.
He smiled faintly—barely there. "You have a habit of doing that."
A small laugh escaped me, but it faded quickly. "Hades…" I hesitated. "When I was unconscious… I felt something. Like… a voice. Whispering my name."
His gaze sharpened. "What kind of voice?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "It wasn't human. It felt ancient. Heavy. Like it was calling from the depths of the earth. I couldn't see anything—just darkness and… scales. Hissing."
He went still.
For a heartbeat, his entire aura shifted. His warmth bled into cold, and his hand tightened slightly around mine. "You said scales?"
"Yes."
He rose to his feet, his expression darkening. "This isn't ordinary," he muttered, mostly to himself. "That storm—it wasn't a natural force. Something's trying to reach you."
My stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know yet," he said, though his voice was strained. "But I'll find out."
He began pacing, mind clearly racing. I could see the king in him surface again—cold, calculating—but underneath it, there was fear. Fear not for himself, but for me.
Finally, I said, "Hades?"
He paused.
"You're not alone in this," I whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
He turned to me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he crossed the space between us and knelt before the bed, his hands resting lightly on my knees.
"You don't understand," he said quietly. "If something's reaching for you… it's not mortal. It's something far older than I am. And if it wants you—"
"Then it'll have to go through you first," I said firmly.
His lips parted in surprise. Then, slowly, a small smile crept across his face. "You're starting to sound like me."
"Maybe you're rubbing off on me."
He chuckled softly—a rare sound. The tension in his shoulders loosened slightly. For a brief moment, the world outside didn't matter.
He rose, brushing his thumb gently across my cheek again. "You should rest more. Your fever hasn't fully subsided."
"I'm fine," I said, though my voice betrayed a hint of weakness.
He leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "You've been asleep for two days. Let me be protective for one."
I looked up at him, my heartbeat suddenly loud in my ears. There was something in his eyes—an emotion so intense it scared me.
"Hades," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering near my lips. "You have no idea what you do to me."
Before I could respond, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. The gesture was soft, reverent—yet heavy with unspoken desire.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the moment. The warmth of his breath, the steadiness of his heartbeat.
And for a fleeting second, I felt safe again.
But deep inside me, beneath the warmth and calm, something stirred—something ancient.
A faint pulse. A whisper.
"Awaken…"
I flinched slightly, the word echoing in my mind. Hades pulled back immediately.
"What is it?" he asked sharply.
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "It's nothing. Just… a headache."
He studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Rest, Hazel. Please."
He turned to leave, but before he reached the door, I said softly, "Hades?"
He looked over his shoulder.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything."
He hesitated, then gave me a look that could melt steel. "Don't thank me," he said quietly. "Just… don't ever scare me like that again."
And with that, he was gone.
I sank back into the pillows, my hand unconsciously pressing against my chest. The warmth there wasn't normal—it was growing again.
And though I didn't understand it yet, part of me already knew.
Something was waking up.
And it was inside me.