Marcus' Prey

Chapter Thirteen: Part Two

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MARCUS
         I'd missed the Underworld. That nostalgia had never been more apparent than when I entered the gates of Hades' fortress, the place in which I had spent much time during my reign as a god. Hades and I had been as close as brothers, and we'd often sought one another's company to gripe and rant on the foolish doings of the Olympians.

         So, it stung doubly so that I was here for such an unfortunate reason. Yet, I did not falter. My blood hummed in the song of Greece, my vision sharpening into a focus unlike what I'd experienced in thousands of years. I was single-minded in my intent, in my purpose. I was not here to reap souls for the Lonely Angel. Today, I was here to reap souls for myself.

         And I would succeed. There could be no other outcome.

         The soles of our boots echoed on the ostentatious marble flooring; a penchant we Greeks had never really shaken. The palace was devoid of guards—the skeletal foes that Hades was so intensely fond of. I had no doubt it was because the King of the Underworld did not wish to lose any of his army to my wrath. It was a practical choice, and one that betrayed Hades' hand.

         He knew I would come. He wanted me to. And the very thought both broke and hardened my heart.

         "I would pray to Ares, were I not so sure he wouldn't listen," Lacedaemon muttered bitterly. I felt a small modicum of remorse that I'd yanked the curtain from his eyes; he was now devoid of even the small comfort of his religion. But it'd been necessary. He'd needed to know what he would face.

         "Hades will be pleased to see you," I told him truthfully. "He's always had a soft spot for Spartans."

         "And why is that?" Brow raised, he glanced in my direction.

         "Because you sent him so many souls," I replied. "Especially that of your enemies. And your people make up so much of the Elysian."

         I saw a glimpse of a smug smirk spreading across Lacedaemon's face before he turned away. We continued down the halls I knew so well, heading inexorably toward my mate's perfect aura...and toward what I knew to be Hades' personal quarters. Rage unlike anything I'd ever experienced in my long, harried life consumed me, spreading from the tips of my toes, through my chest, to the very fucking ends of my hair.

         If Hades had violated my mate, I'd fucking atomize him.

         Carried thusly on the wings of my rage, even the weakness of my body couldn't slow me down, and in no time, we were barging in through the double doors—pretentious as fuck—of Hades' rooms.

         My heart seized in my throat when I saw my sweet Kaiah curled in the corner, her legs drawn up to her chest and her face buried in against her thighs. At the sound of my entrance, she looked up slowly, obviously expecting her captor. But at the sight of me, her lovely blue eyes lit up like fireworks and a choked sob of relief ripped its way from her throat.

         "My Champion," she whispered, and, as it always did when she called me that, she made me feel ten feet tall.

         "Babygirl." My voice was strangled by the depths of my emotion, and I rushed to her, throwing my arms around her as best I could, burrowing my face in her lovely-smelling hair. The dark strands tickled my nose, but I didn't give a damn. She was in my arms. She was here. It had only been a day since I'd lost her, but it had felt like a fucking eternity.