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Hazel's POV
The air was thick — too quiet, too charged — as though the universe itself was holding its breath.
I turned, and there he was.
Hades.
He stood a few paces away, still half-dressed in his ceremonial armor, his hair slightly tousled, eyes darker than night itself. But there was something about him tonight — raw, unguarded, dangerously human.
He looked at me as if I were both his salvation and his ruin.
"You shouldn't be out here," he murmured, stepping closer. "You're still recovering."
"I'm fine," I whispered, though my voice betrayed the tremor in my chest. "Besides… I couldn't sleep."
His lips curved faintly. "Nor could I."
Our eyes met — and stayed.
It was that kind of silence again. The one that crackled with every unspoken thought, every buried desire.
Hades' hand lifted — slow, uncertain — until his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. My breath caught. His touch was warm and deliberate, the kind that made my pulse race in surrender.
He leaned closer. "Do you know what you do to me, Hazel?"
"Hades…"
He didn't let me finish. His lips found mine — not hard, not rushed — but deep and claiming. A kiss that felt like both a question and an answer. I melted into him, my hands gripping his shoulders, his taste filling every part of me that had been hollow since I came to this realm.
Every inch of him radiated power. And yet, right now, he trembled like a man barely holding himself together.
The kiss deepened. His hands slid to my waist, drawing me closer until I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. My skin burned where his fingers trailed — a delicious ache spreading like wildfire.
When his mouth left mine to trail down my throat, I almost forgot how to breathe. The feel of his breath, the sound of his low growl — it was intoxicating.
"Hades…" I gasped softly, curling against him.
He looked up, eyes storm-dark and hungry. "Say my name again." He said, his deep voice close to my ear was a different kind of pleasure .
I did. And gods, the way he looked at me then — like I was the only thing keeping him sane.
He guided me toward the bed, his touch reverent and desperate all at once. I could feel his restraint faltering — every motion, every breath threaded with want. His fingers brushed the hem of my gown, tugging lightly, questioningly.
And that's when it hit me.
Ares.
Not his face — not even his touch — but the memory of him begging, broken-voiced, just hours ago. His confession. His pain. His love.
He'd told me he'd never stop loving me… and now here I was, about to surrender completely to the one he envied most.
I froze.
Hades noticed instantly. His body stilled above mine, his breathing ragged. "Hazel?"
"I—" My chest constricted. "I can't… not like this. Not after everything."
He blinked, confusion and a flash of hurt crossing his face. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," I said quickly, touching his cheek. "You didn't. It's just… Ares. He can hear everything. He'll know. Vampires—"
Understanding dawned in his eyes — followed by a slow, visible wave of irritation. "You're worried he'll hear us?"
"Well, yes—"
"Hear me making love to my own wife?" His voice was low, incredulous, and borderline deadly. "Tell me why that suddenly concerns you."
I sighed. "Because I don't want to humiliate him. He's already—"
"He's already what?" His tone sharpened. "In love with you? Obsessed with you? Do you know what I see every time he looks at you, Hazel? It's not affection — it's covetous hunger."
"Hades—"
"No." He rose from the bed, dragging a hand through his hair. His jaw was clenched tight. "You stop me halfway because you're worried about how he will feel? The man who nearly kissed my wife in my own kingdom?"
My eyes softened. "It's not like that."
He turned back, eyes gleaming gold. "Then what is it like, Hazel? Because right now, I'm trying to remember why I haven't torn out his throat."
I swallowed. The raw emotion behind his voice wasn't rage — it was jealousy laced with heartbreak.
"I just…" My voice cracked. "I didn't want to make you angrier than you already are."
He stared at me for a long, silent moment — and then something inside him snapped.
"Excuse me," he said tightly, his voice so calm it was terrifying. "I need some air."
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Hades' POV
Some air.
That's what I told her. But I didn't stop when I reached the hall.
I kept walking. Down the marble corridors. Past the guards who instantly averted their eyes. Through the massive archway that led to the lower balcony — the one facing Ares' training courtyard.
And there he was.
Ares. The ever-composed vampire king. Shirtless, no less, sparring with one of his soldiers like a preening peacock.
Perfect.
I dropped from the balcony soundlessly, landing in the courtyard with a thud that cracked the stone. The soldier nearly fainted and scurried off at once.
Ares straightened, frowning slightly. "Hades? What—"
I didn't let him finish.
My fist connected with his jaw before the word happened could leave his mouth. The sound echoed through the courtyard like thunder.
Ares stumbled back, wiping blood from his lip. "What the hell was that for?"
I didn't answer. I punched him again — this time with enough force to send him flying into a training post that promptly shattered in half.
"WHAT IN THE VOID IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" he yelled, his fangs flashing.
"You," I snapped, cracking my knuckles. "You're what's wrong with me."
"Did I touch your damned crown again or something?"
"No," I said flatly, stalking toward him. "You touched my wife."
He blinked. "What? When—"
"When you breathed near her! When you looked at her! When you dreamed of her!" My voice rose with every word. "You think I don't see it? You think I don't feel it, vampire?"
Ares raised his hands defensively, though he was laughing now, blood on his teeth. "Oh, gods, you're actually insane."
"Jealous," I corrected, slamming him into the nearest wall. "Jealous and dangerously close to ripping your pretty undead head off."
Ares grunted, glaring back at me. "You're mad because she stopped you, huh?"
That did it.
I hauled him forward and punched him again — hard enough to send him rolling across the dirt. He landed on his back, wheezing, then started laughing — full-on laughing.
"Stop laughing," I growled.
"You're fighting me because she didn't want to moan loud enough for me to hear?!" he howled between chuckles. "By the gods, you're worse than I thought!"
"Keep talking," I said darkly, "and I'll turn you into confetti."
That only made him laugh harder. "You're hopeless, Hades. Absolutely lovesick and hopeless."
"Say that again," I warned, advancing.
"Lovesick!"
I lunged. He dodged. I hit the wall instead. A small chunk of it collapsed.
Ares wiped more blood from his lip, his fangs were bloodied, smirking. "You're insane."
"Maybe," I said, stalking him again. "But at least I'm married to the woman we're talking about."
"Ouch," he said with mock pain. "Point to you."
I stopped, chest heaving, and finally— finally — felt the rage drain out of me.
Ares straightened, wiping off the dust. "You done, or should I call for a healer?"
"I'm done," I muttered. "For now."
He looked at me long and hard. Then, to my surprise, he smiled — faintly, tiredly. "She's something, isn't she?"
I exhaled, tension softening just slightly. "She's everything."
For a moment, there was silence between us. No rivalry. No politics. Just two kings who'd fallen for the same woman — one who didn't know the storm she'd created in their hearts.
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Hazel's POV
When Hades finally came back, his hair was disheveled, his knuckles bruised, and his expression halfway between smug and guilty.
I stared at him from the couch. "You didn't."
He sat beside me, exhaling deeply. "I might have."
"Hades!"
"He'll live," he said quickly, raising a hand. "Barely."
I pressed a hand over my face. "Why would you do that?"
"Because," he said simply, eyes softening as he looked at me, "you stopped me for his sake. I needed to remind him — and myself — who you belong to."
My heart stilled. "I don't belong to anyone."
He paused… then smiled faintly. "No. You don't. But I'll spend eternity trying to earn the right to say you're mine."
Something in my chest melted. The fury, the jealousy, the chaos — it all vanished in that moment. I leaned toward him, resting my head against his shoulder.
"Next time," I whispered, "try not to start an international war."
He chuckled lowly, kissing the top of my head. "No promises."