Eve
I couldn't move.
Couldn't scream.
His weight pinned me, knees caging my hips, hands like iron bands on my wrists above my head.
And those eyes.
They weren't Hades' eyes.
They were pits—black sclera swallowing bloody irises, searing with something ancient, something cruel. Not just looking at me—but through me. Skin. Bone. Thought. Memory. Like they were cataloging the pieces of me, laying them bare and peeling them apart.
A whimper scraped up my throat, but it never made it past my lips. His hand slid to my cheek, thumb grazing softly—too softly—across the curve of my face.
"You can't hide from me, Red," he whispered. The voice was his. But it wasn't.
Not fully.
Not anymore.
Not with the way it curled at the edges like burning parchment.
"Even in dreams, I find you. Especially there."
His grip tightened. My bones cried beneath it. My wrists went numb.
And still his gaze held mine, forcing me to look.
> Strip her. Pull her soul thread by thread. She belongs to us.
