Wind tore around them in gusts that matched his rage.
He barely heard his son’s soft words through the rage. “The only Gods she had any experience with were them. You may have triggered old memories.”
He remembered her rubbing her wrists after she’d teleported from his arms. Her beautiful features hadn’t shown any fear or hurt… but she’d felt the echoes of shackles. He felt physically ill.
Hades growled low, deadly. He’d fucking hated his brothers before, but this… hate was too tame a word. It was blinding. All he wanted, all he could imagine was his brother’s blood running through his fingers. Death was too good for Hermes and Apollo both. He imagined their hands on Sacha’s smooth skin, and the ground beneath his feet shook. He searched the mental link to Apollo and it was still silent, as it had been. He would find him and he would shackle the male and bleed him dry as he ripped gaping holes in the male’s soul just to hear his screams.
And then he’d do it again.
Had she imagined their hands when he’d been touching her? His stomach tightened as the roar of an avalanche rent the air. The skies darkened, lit only by the lightning strikes all around them. The uncontrollable need for blood lifted his wings into the winds. But he had no target, no outlet to ease the sickness and violence inside him.
“I’m sorry.” He heard the sympathy from his son.
“Come on. We’re going to kill some Hell beasts, Father.”
Kill.
He growled low as he faced his son. “Get me a blade.”
Blood.
Chapter 6
Hell Realm
Pothos was mentally kicking his own ass. He’d only seen his father like this one other time, and fuck, he never wanted to see him like this again. Looking back at all the battles they’d fought when the Gods ruled the Earth, Hades had always been controlled and precise.
What he was doing to the Hell creatures was like what he’d unleashed on Ares and Artemis the only time they’d personally attempted to breach the palace, trying to get to P. He’d been maybe ten, but the sheer fury his father unleashed had rained Gods’ blood all over the palace keep.
These beasts didn’t stand a chance.
P had taken Drake here when his dragon needed to rage over being denied his mate. Had it been a month ago? Two? It didn’t fucking matter. It seemed he was destined to spend his days in Hell.
Literally.
But his father needed this. Though if P thought Drake’s killing rages were bad, this was fucking epic.
The geographic setup was the same in all Realms, but Hell rarely saw a storm like the one that followed them there. Lightning strikes wrought their own havoc on the land below.
After getting his father a blade, he had a split second where they both gazed out from a rise above packs of dozens, maybe hundreds of Hell creatures before his father’s battle cry echoed throughout the Realm. It was deadly and frightening enough that it felt like the entire world quieted in fear.
From that moment on it had been a bloodbath. There were so many Hell creatures it almost looked like they were drawn to the spot. To his father.
P’d stayed at his father’s side from the second Hades took flight. Fury rarely worked well in battle. It generally made a warrior careless, but not his father. Another dark battle cry rent the skies, shaking the ground beneath them as rare black Hell dragons soared in and were dropping to the trees in rending crashes of wood and fire. P admitted just how scary his father was when he unleashed his rage.
Blood flowed over the ground; the scent of sulphur and flames from the beasts filled his nose. His father’s eyes glowed with power and fury. Thick muscled shoulders bunched and stretched as he let blade and power lay waste to Hell beasts, and death cries and screeches filled the air around them.
It felt good to fly free, but not like this. Something about this wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure if it was the sheer wildness in his father or the power the God was
He barely heard his son’s soft words through the rage. “The only Gods she had any experience with were them. You may have triggered old memories.”
He remembered her rubbing her wrists after she’d teleported from his arms. Her beautiful features hadn’t shown any fear or hurt… but she’d felt the echoes of shackles. He felt physically ill.
Hades growled low, deadly. He’d fucking hated his brothers before, but this… hate was too tame a word. It was blinding. All he wanted, all he could imagine was his brother’s blood running through his fingers. Death was too good for Hermes and Apollo both. He imagined their hands on Sacha’s smooth skin, and the ground beneath his feet shook. He searched the mental link to Apollo and it was still silent, as it had been. He would find him and he would shackle the male and bleed him dry as he ripped gaping holes in the male’s soul just to hear his screams.
And then he’d do it again.
Had she imagined their hands when he’d been touching her? His stomach tightened as the roar of an avalanche rent the air. The skies darkened, lit only by the lightning strikes all around them. The uncontrollable need for blood lifted his wings into the winds. But he had no target, no outlet to ease the sickness and violence inside him.
“I’m sorry.” He heard the sympathy from his son.
“Come on. We’re going to kill some Hell beasts, Father.”
Kill.
He growled low as he faced his son. “Get me a blade.”
Blood.
Chapter 6
Hell Realm
Pothos was mentally kicking his own ass. He’d only seen his father like this one other time, and fuck, he never wanted to see him like this again. Looking back at all the battles they’d fought when the Gods ruled the Earth, Hades had always been controlled and precise.
What he was doing to the Hell creatures was like what he’d unleashed on Ares and Artemis the only time they’d personally attempted to breach the palace, trying to get to P. He’d been maybe ten, but the sheer fury his father unleashed had rained Gods’ blood all over the palace keep.
These beasts didn’t stand a chance.
P had taken Drake here when his dragon needed to rage over being denied his mate. Had it been a month ago? Two? It didn’t fucking matter. It seemed he was destined to spend his days in Hell.
Literally.
But his father needed this. Though if P thought Drake’s killing rages were bad, this was fucking epic.
The geographic setup was the same in all Realms, but Hell rarely saw a storm like the one that followed them there. Lightning strikes wrought their own havoc on the land below.
After getting his father a blade, he had a split second where they both gazed out from a rise above packs of dozens, maybe hundreds of Hell creatures before his father’s battle cry echoed throughout the Realm. It was deadly and frightening enough that it felt like the entire world quieted in fear.
From that moment on it had been a bloodbath. There were so many Hell creatures it almost looked like they were drawn to the spot. To his father.
P’d stayed at his father’s side from the second Hades took flight. Fury rarely worked well in battle. It generally made a warrior careless, but not his father. Another dark battle cry rent the skies, shaking the ground beneath them as rare black Hell dragons soared in and were dropping to the trees in rending crashes of wood and fire. P admitted just how scary his father was when he unleashed his rage.
Blood flowed over the ground; the scent of sulphur and flames from the beasts filled his nose. His father’s eyes glowed with power and fury. Thick muscled shoulders bunched and stretched as he let blade and power lay waste to Hell beasts, and death cries and screeches filled the air around them.
It felt good to fly free, but not like this. Something about this wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure if it was the sheer wildness in his father or the power the God was
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