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Hazel stood Infront of Hades, chest rising and falling, her hair clinging in damp strands against her temples.
"You fight better than I expected," Aries admitted, stepping in and pulling his blade back into its sheath with a smirk. "For a princess."
Hazel raised a brow. "And you bleed easier than I expected. For a vampire."
The crowd gave a low chuckle, but it was short-lived. The heavy slam of armored boots against stone drew all attention to the northern gate. A demon guard, still wearing his black chest plate and helm, ran toward them, his breathing ragged. He dropped to one knee before Hades.
"My king—" he rasped, "—trouble outside the northern walls. Rogues."
The word seemed to sour the air instantly.
Hades' head turned slightly, his expression unreadable. "How many?"
"Six we can see, perhaps more hiding in the woods," the guard replied. "They've refused to stand down. They claim they've come with… a message."
That caught even Aries' interest. Lycan's sharp eyes flicked toward the gate.
"Let's go," Hades ordered. His tone left no room for questions.
He moved before anyone else, his long black cloak sweeping the ground like a shadow spilling forward. Lycan followed silently, Aries falling in step with a wolfish grin that told Hazel he expected entertainment. Hazel hesitated, then went after them, ignoring the few maids who whispered that she shouldn't be outside the castle walls.
The cold outside hit her immediately. The open plain beyond the northern gate stretched wide, the pale silver grass swaying under the shadow of the fortress walls. And there—right at the edge of the forest—stood a loose line of figures.
They were demons, but not like the ones Hazel had met here. Their armor was mismatched, their weapons chipped, their skin marked with strange crimson tattoos that pulsed faintly like something alive.
One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered demon with curved horns and a split lower lip, stepped forward. His eyes were a deep, unnatural orange.
"So the King of the Underworld finally shows his face," the horned demon said, his voice thick with disdain.
The soldiers along the wall tightened their grips on their spears. Hades stopped several paces ahead of everyone else, his posture straight, his aura beginning to swell—not in a sudden burst, but in a slow, suffocating wave that seemed to make the air heavier.
Hazel swallowed. It wasn't like when he'd been angry before. This was different. Colder.
"I don't answer to the likes of you," Hades said evenly. "State your business before you lose the chance to speak again."
The demon laughed, a harsh sound. "You've grown soft, Hades. Hiding behind your walls while the outer lands rot. We've come to take back what's—"
He didn't finish.
The ground beneath him cracked with a sharp snap as if something invisible had slammed down with crushing force. He gasped, dropping to one knee, clutching at his throat as though the air had been stolen from him. The other rogues flinched, taking unsteady steps back.
Hades' eyes turned pitch black, dark and merciless. His voice dropped to a whisper that still carried across the field. "You dare speak my name with that mouth? I should tear it from your face."
A sound, low and thrumming, seemed to hum in the air—Hazel realized it was coming from him. Not a growl, not a hiss, but something older, more primal. It made the soldiers nearest him stiffen instinctively, as though their own bodies feared moving.
The horned demon tried to speak, choking against the pressure crushing him into the dirt. "We—we were told—"
"You were told nothing worth living for," Hades interrupted. "If you have a message, give it. If you have a challenge, make it. But if you have only insults—"
The air shimmered around him, the way heat does above fire. In the next blink, black flames curled from the ground at the rogues' feet, encircling them.
Hazel's heart kicked hard. The flames didn't move like normal fire. They bent unnaturally, almost… aware. One of the rogues stumbled back too far, his leg grazing the flame—and screamed as if it had eaten the flesh straight off the bone.
"Don't you fear me?" he asked, each word low and precise.
Hazel's pulse quickened. Even from where she stood, she could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on everyone in the courtyard.
"Fear is for the weak," the man said.
A mistake.
The shadows around Hades thickened, twisting unnaturally. "Then perhaps I should teach you the difference between bravery and stupidity." His voice dropped into something deep, almost inhuman.
With a flick of his hand, the air itself seemed to tighten around the six demons present. Their knees buckled as if some invisible force had crushed the weight of the world onto their shoulders.
Gasps went up from the group behind him, but none dared to move.
Hades stepped forward, each step slow, deliberate. "You dare raise your voice to me in my domain. You come to my gates with accusations, without proof. And you insult me?"
The man was gasping now, his face contorted as he struggled against the unseen force. Hazel's fingers clenched around her cloak, biting her lower lip, she could see the life slipping from the demon's eyes. Hades was going to kill him.
She had known Hades could be ruthless—she'd heard the whispers, felt the dangerous edge beneath his charm—but seeing it unfold was different.
"Release him," Hazel found herself saying before she could stop the words.
Every head turned toward her. The man's eyes flicked up at her briefly in confusion.
Hades didn't move for a moment. Then his gaze slid to hers, and the darkness in his eyes deepened. "Why?"
"We--we should atleast hear what the--they have to say," She stuttered, it was just so hard to communicate with him looking like that. It sent shivers down her spines.
A long silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, Hades loosened his grip. The man collapsed to his knees, coughing.
"Speak." Hades commanded.
"We--we demand justice. Your soldiers took from us—food, coin, and supplies that belonged to my people. We've come to take back what's ours." One of them stuttered.
The leader swallowed hard, his bravado slipping. "We… we were told your men took from us," he admitted. "But perhaps… perhaps we were wrong." His eyes darted to Hades' shadowed form and then to Hazel.
Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to speak. "If he's lying, you can find the truth without… this." She gestured to the man, who was now trembling violently.
He flicked his hand, and the black flames surged, licking higher before vanishing into the air. "Take your people," Hades said coldly. "Leave before I change my mind."
The leader didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet, barking orders for his people to move. The human woman kept her head down as they retreated, though Hazel caught a brief glimpse of her face—fear and exhaustion etched into every line.
Silence stretched across the plain.
Hades didn't turn right away. He stood there, his head slightly tilted, his gaze still fixed on the trees as though daring them to come back. Only when the sound of retreating footsteps faded entirely did he move.
"Seal the gates," he ordered the guards without looking at them.
They obeyed instantly.
Hazel exhaled slowly, realizing she'd been holding her breath. She didn't even notice when Hades started walking past her until she caught the faint, icy trace of his aura still lingering in the air. It clung to him like another layer of skin.
This was the king everyone feared. Not the one who sparred with playful insults, not the one who lounged at decadent dinners—but the true ruler of the Underworld.
And she couldn't decide if she was more terrified of him… or drawn to him.