Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“My Lord. Zeus beckons you.” His voice blends with the shadows, too. The timbre deep and his tone barely heard. Many souls who stand before Minox fear him for this reason, but there is more to fear from a person who pretends to be something they are not.
“And what for?” I ask, arching a brow and daring the God of Thunder, The King of Gods and the ruler of Mount Olympus to call me. His arena is quite the opposite of mine. For he may play in the mortal realm but I rule after death and for all eternity.
With that thought, I watch more souls step foot on the Asphodel Fields.
Minox’s eyes flicker to mine, but they do not stay on my face. Perhaps he did not look at all. It could be a trick of the light. “He would not say.”
“I cannot leave.” I raise my hand in a dismissal of these summons toward both of them, knowing that the guard will understand my meaning, and begin to turn back to the window. “But send word that I will scry this evening,” I add and adrenaline races through me.
I know very well what he craves.
“My Lord.” Minox’s voice stops me. I turn back to him, my hackles rising. Minox has the standing to disagree with me, if he wishes. I count on him to do so when he believes it is necessary. But I do not care for the tone in his voice. “He stressed that it was urgent.”
My eyes narrow as I stare at the man who knows I am his liege.
Irritation burns inside of me, a dull anger at the slowly passing time. I do not relish the feeling.
I answer easily, “There is nothing that cannot wait, and I have little patience left for his beckoning. You may go,” I give the command to the guard, not Minox.
In actuality I have no patience left for his beckoning. Zeus thinks of himself as all-powerful, all-seeing, because he spends his days on Olympus. That is all well and good, but I am not lesser because the Underworld is my domain. There is balance in the realms. One cannot exist without the other. There can only be so many mortals alive at any one time, and so many gods. The number of souls never lessens. Our world is finite and includes all life.
When the silence hangs between us, the guard allows an expression of worry onto his face. But he nods, and after a few more moments, he clears his throat. “Yes, my Lord.”
He turns and leaves. Minox and I listen to his footsteps as they get quieter, then fade to silence. It is a silence I do not entirely trust, though I know what it is supposed to mean. The breeze of my realms makes a quiet sound across the window. I wait, pushing down my irritation. I will not let it get the better of me, other than to send a terse reply to Zeus.
“My Lord.” Minox is far more careful now than he was before. Others may not be able to hear the minute differences in the way he speaks, but I can. We’ve spent long enough together for me to discern them. “Is it possible he’s privy to your night endeavors?”
“That the gates for the realms have been opened?” I assume. A deal was made and I took advantage. Finding her in a vulnerable position.
Minox nods.
I am fair and just, but I weigh how much truth I want to give him. If I wanted him to have all of it, my answer would be simple. But there are some things that I cannot let others be privy to no matter how close they have been over the years.
There are some things that must belong only to me.
Like her. Persephone.
Even thinking of her name provides a pleasure to my tongue. The image of her, wanting and needing and all that I can do for her thrills me. Her gorgeous locks around my wrist as I fist her hair and wide eyes begging me for more. I need her on her knees bowing before me and agreeing to all that I desire. She is my one gift to free me of this torture.
Minox has not taken his eyes off me. I know I have not given him the information he wants through my expression. I am too skilled in controlling myself for that.
“Possibly,” I finally answer although I cannot know for sure.
He unfolds his hands, then refolds them. I would think it was a nervous gesture if I had not known him so long. Instead, I know it to be a gesture of consideration. He is weighing each of his words, more so than he would for any of the souls he has judged in the days that have come before.