Page 72 of The Games Gods Play
I didn’t know I could feel like this.
Everything about me gathers in tighter and tighter, condensing, like the sensation has no outlet, and a whimper escapes my lips even as I’m kissing him back.
But at that one tiny sound, Hades goes abruptly, utterly still, then pulls away and drops his forehead against mine.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
And I realize I was wrong. His diminishing control isn’t about me—it’s about his champion. I scared him tonight because he could have lost his place in the Crucible. If he’s that afraid of losing, his reasons must be huge.
I take a deep breath to say something. Anything.
But he’s already gone, leaving only a swirl of smoke where he stood pressed against me, the burn of sulfur sharp in my nostrils. I shiver as the heat from his touch fades, leaving behind only cold.
And regret.
36
Hermes’ Labor
I don’t know how I could’ve possibly fallen asleep after everything, but I did. So hard that all my training abandons me and I have no idea anyone is in my room until Hades shakes me awake.
“The second Labor is about to start, Lyra.”
I blink the sleep out of my eyes to blearily focus on his face hovering just above mine—on his lips. What would he do if I kissed him?
His eyes narrow. “Lyra?”
“What?” I shove my head into my pillow.
I should be alert instantly with a god in my room, but everything about me feels slow and groggy. And it’s entirely Hades’ fault. I tossed and turned all night, dreaming of his hand sliding along my—
“The next Labor, Lyra.” He pulls the pillow out from under my head. “It’s Hermes’. Get dressed fast—”
He flips my covers back—and swears.
The word clangs like a bell I’m standing too close to, or maybe it’s the bubbling sensation that does it as Hades’ gaze is fixed on my bare midriff. Either way, my brain boots up with a kick of adrenaline too late because I’m already fading away.
Without my vest.
“Fuck,” Hades swears again.
I don’t look away, centering on his swirling gray eyes as I go.
And all I can think is that I’m in my pajamas, without my clothes or tools…or shoes, for that matter. But also without the pearls or what’s left of the dragon teeth, and especially without my relic.
All of that runs through my mind, along with the thought that Hades’ eyes have specks of gold in the silver…sort of like mine.
“You can do this, my star.” His voice follows me into the void. “I’ll see you soon.”
Not the most comforting words, coming from the King of the Underworld.
When I fade back whole again, it’s on a yelp as I immediately tilt forward to gain my balance…over nothing. My arms windmill as I totter on a tiny rectangular ledge, but I breathe a sigh of relief when my ass hits a wall at my back.
I jerk upright, as straight as I can, and my fingers desperately search for a grip on the rockface behind me.
I stay like that for a solid minute, catching my balance and waiting for my stomach to stop twisting, my heart to stop pounding in my chest. I slowly exhale. That was close. Directly in front of me are mountaintops—and clouds.
Hermes. I should have guessed something high up. This god likes to fly.
