Aria couldn't stop touching her lips.
An hour had passed since the kiss. Since he—Cerberus in human form—had pressed her against the wall and claimed her mouth like she was oxygen and he'd been drowning.
Her lips still tingled. Her heart still raced.
And Cerberus, back in his massive three-headed form, watched her with eyes that held too much knowledge. Too much satisfaction.
"This is bad," she muttered, pacing the room. "This is really, really bad."
The beast huffed—almost like a laugh.
"Don't." She pointed at him. "Don't act smug. You can't just... just kiss me and then turn back into a giant hell-dog like nothing happened."
The center head tilted, and she could swear he was smirking.
"And what happens when Hades finds out? What then?" She ran her hands through her hair. "He said you two share emotions. Does that mean he felt—"
She stopped. Oh god. Did Hades feel that kiss?
Before she could spiral further, the door opened.
Hades stood in the threshold, and the look on his face made her stomach drop.
"It's time," he said. His voice was flat. Empty.
But his eyes—those silver eyes burned with something she couldn't name. Anger? Betrayal? Desire?
He knew. He had to know.
"Hades, I—"
"Save it." He turned away. "The council is waiting. Cerberus, you'll remain here."
All three of the beast's heads snarled in unison.
"That wasn't a request." Hades' voice went deadly quiet. "She goes before the council alone. With me."
The challenge hung in the air—god versus beast, two halves of the same soul at war.
Finally, Cerberus backed down, but the look he gave Aria was clear: This isn't over.
Hades held out his hand. "Come. Now."
Aria hesitated, then placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers—cold, controlled, but she felt the tremor. The barely contained rage.
Yeah. He definitely knew.
They walked through corridors that seemed endless, lit by those strange blue flames. Neither of them spoke. The silence was suffocating.
"Hades—"
"Don't." His grip tightened on her hand. "Whatever you're about to say, don't."
"You felt it." It wasn't a question.
His jaw clenched. "I felt something. A surge. Desire. Need. But it was muted. Distant." He glanced at her, and the pain in his eyes nearly broke her. "Like feeling an echo of an emotion I'm not supposed to have anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?" He stopped walking, pulling her to face him. "Because from what I felt, you didn't exactly push him away."
Heat flooded her cheeks. "I didn't know what was happening. He just—he transformed and then—"
"He claimed you." Hades' voice was rough. Raw. "Something I told myself I couldn't do. Wouldn't do. And he did it anyway because he doesn't have my restraint. My control. He just takes what he wants."
"Are you jealous?"
The question came out before she could stop it.
Hades stared at her. Then, slowly, his lips curved into something dark and humorless.
"Jealous of myself?" He laughed—bitter and broken. "Yes, Aria. I'm jealous of the part of me that gets to touch you. Taste you. Feel you." He leaned closer, his breath ghosting across her lips. "I'm jealous that he gets to be reckless while I have to be responsible. That he gets to burn while I have to stay frozen."
Her breath caught. "Then don't stay frozen."
"I have to." He released her, stepping back. "Because one of us needs to remember what's at stake. One of us needs to keep you alive."
Before she could respond, massive doors groaned open ahead of them.
"We're here," Hades said. "Whatever happens in that room, stay close to me. Don't speak unless spoken to. And don't—under any circumstances—show fear."
"That's asking a lot."
"I know."
He took her hand again, and they walked through the doors into hell itself.
The council chamber was enormous—a circular room with a ceiling that disappeared into darkness. Twelve thrones ringed the space, each occupied by something that made Aria's survival instincts scream.
Nyx sat in one, her crimson skin gleaming. Bael lounged in another, his coal eyes tracking Aria's every move. The stitched-mouth creature—Silence—stood behind one of the thrones, perfectly still.
But the others...
A woman made entirely of smoke and screams. A man whose skin shifted between scales and flesh. Something that might have been beautiful once, before its face split open to reveal rows of teeth. A creature that was more shadow than substance, its form constantly rippling.
And in the largest throne, directly across from where Hades stopped, sat something ancient.
It looked like an old man, but its eyes were pure white—no pupils, no iris, just endless milky void. When it smiled, its teeth were black.
"Lord Hades." Its voice echoed like it came from everywhere at once. "You've finally graced us with your presence. And you brought... the mortal."
Every eye in the room turned to her.
Aria's hand tightened on Hades'.
"Aria Vale," Hades said, his voice carrying authority that made the air vibrate. "Vessel of the Heart. Under my protection."
"Your protection." The old man leaned forward. "How interesting. Tell me, Hades, when did you start protecting mortals? I thought you simply collected them."
A few council members laughed. The sound was like bones breaking.
"This one is different." Hades' tone left no room for argument.
"Is she?" The smoke-woman spoke, her voice like wind through a graveyard. "Or is she like the last one? The one who tried to use the Heart's power to overthrow you?"
Murmurs rippled through the council.
"I'm not trying to overthrow anyone," Aria said.
The old man's attention snapped to her. "She speaks. How bold." He stood, and the temperature dropped. "Tell me, little mortal. Why did the Heart choose you?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know." He moved closer, circling them. "Fascinating. The Heart—an artifact of immense power—binds itself to a common thief who doesn't even know why." He paused. "Or perhaps you're lying."
"I'm not—"
"Prove it." Nyx stood, her hand on her spear. "Let us examine her. Test her. See if she's truly worthy of the Heart's power or if she's just another mortal playing with forces she can't control."
"No." Hades stepped in front of Aria. "She's under my protection. That means she doesn't get tested, examined, or touched."
"My lord." Bael rose, his voice careful. "We understand your... attachment. But the safety of the underworld comes first. If this mortal poses a threat—"
"She doesn't."
"How can you be sure?" The old man smiled. "Unless you've already bonded with her. Unless the Heart has affected you as much as it's affected Cerberus."
The room went silent.
"That's it, isn't it?" The smoke-woman laughed. "The great Hades, who locked away his emotions, who separated himself from his beast to rule without weakness—he's falling for the mortal."
"Enough." Hades' voice cracked like thunder.
But the damage was done. Every council member was staring at him with new understanding. With hunger.
"If you're compromised, my lord," Nyx said slowly, "then perhaps you shouldn't be making decisions regarding the mortal."
"I'm not compromised."
"Aren't you?" The old man circled back to his throne. "Tell me, when Cerberus claimed her—kissed her—did you feel nothing? Did it not stir something in that locked-away heart of yours?"
Aria's blood ran cold. How did they know?
Hades went rigid beside her.
"I see." The old man sat, looking pleased. "You did feel it. And now you're torn. The god wants to stay distant. The beast wants to claim. And the mortal..." He looked at Aria. "The mortal is caught between two halves of the same impossible desire."
"This council is over." Hades turned, pulling Aria with him.
"We're not finished—"
"I said we're done." Power rippled through the room, making the flames gutter. "Aria stays under my protection. Anyone who challenges that challenges me. And I promise you..." His eyes swept over every council member. "That's not a fight you'll win."
They made it three steps before the old man spoke again.
"One more thing, Lord Hades."
Hades stopped but didn't turn around.
"The prophecy. 'When the Heart awakens in a mortal vessel, the King of the Underworld will face his greatest test. Love or power. Choose wrong, and Hell itself will fall.'" The old man's laughter echoed. "The clock is already ticking."
Hades pulled Aria through the doors. They slammed shut behind them, and he immediately released her hand.
"Don't." He walked ahead, his shoulders tense. "Don't say anything. Not yet."
"Hades, what prophecy? What did he mean—"
"I said not yet."
They walked in silence until they reached a different chamber—smaller, more private. Hades waved his hand, and the door sealed behind them with a sound like a tomb closing.
Then he turned to face her, and the mask finally cracked.
"You want to know the truth?" His voice was rough. "Fine. I'll tell you the truth."
He moved closer, backing her against the wall.
"The prophecy says I have to choose between you and my realm. Between falling for you—letting Cerberus and I merge back into one whole being—or staying divided. Staying in control." His hands slammed against the wall on either side of her head. "If I choose you, if I let myself feel, Hell could fall. Everything I've built for millennia could crumble."
His face was inches from hers.
"But if I don't choose you, if I stay cold and distant, Cerberus will keep pulling away. He'll keep claiming you, taking what I deny myself, until we tear each other apart."
"That's impossible," she whispered. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't." His forehead pressed against hers. "And that's why you're the most dangerous thing that's ever walked into my realm. Because for the first time in a thousand years..." His voice broke. "I don't know what to choose."
His lips hovered over hers—so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.
"Tell me to walk away," he whispered. "Tell me to stay frozen. Because if you don't..." His hand came up, fingers threading through her hair. "If you don't, I'm going to kiss you. And once I start, I won't stop. I'll claim you just like Cerberus did. Maybe worse."
Aria's heart hammered against her ribs. Every rational thought screamed at her to push him away. To run.
But when she opened her mouth, what came out was:
"Then don't stop."
His control shattered.
Hades kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. Like he'd been holding back for centuries and finally, finally let go.
It was nothing like Cerberus' kiss—this was refined fire, controlled passion, a god remembering what it meant to want.
His hands cupped her face, angling her head as he deepened the kiss. She gasped, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her knees weak.
When he finally pulled back, they were both shaking.
"This changes everything," he said, his voice wrecked.
"I know."
"They'll use this against me. Against us."
"I know."
His thumb traced her swollen lips. "And I still can't bring myself to regret it."
A howl echoed through the palace—primal, possessive, furious.
Cerberus.
He knew. He felt it. And he wasn't happy.
Hades closed his eyes. "This is going to get so much worse before it gets better."
"What do we do?"
He looked at her, and despite everything, he smiled—small, genuine, and heartbreaking.
"We survive. Together." He pressed one more kiss to her forehead. "And we figure out how to save Hell without losing each other in the process."
Another howl. Closer this time.
"But first," Hades added, "we deal with my very jealous other half."