Hades watched me, his golden eyes gleaming like embers in the dark. He was waiting, his offer hanging in the air like a noose I was meant to slip around my own neck.

  But I didn’t.

  I met his gaze, my breath steady despite the fury thrumming through me. “No.”

  His smirk faltered—just for a fraction of a second, barely enough to notice—but I saw it.

  Then he laughed, slow and rich, shaking his head like I had just told him the most amusing joke he’d ever heard. “No?” he repeated, his voice full of false disbelief. “You do realize I’m offering you a gift, don’t you?”

  I tightened my grip on my dagger. “It doesn’t sound like a gift. It sounds like a chain.”

  Hades sighed, rubbing his jaw as if I were exhausting him. “Medusa,” he said, slow and careful, like he was speaking to a child, “you are standing at the edge of oblivion, with creatures hunting you, gods who have forsaken you, and mortals who would see you dead if they had the chance. I am the only thing standing between you and the inevitable.”

  I took a step forward, the serpents hissing in unison. “I have been hunted before. I have been abandoned before. And I have survived without your help.”

  Hades tilted his head slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “Survived,” he echoed. “Yes, that’s what you call this, isn’t it?”

  The way he said it sent a chill through me. It wasn’t an insult, but something worse—pity.

  “Tell me, Medusa,” he continued, stepping closer, his presence pressing against me like an encroaching tide. “Is it survival when you spend every moment looking over your shoulder? When the world sees you as nothing but a nightmare to be buried? When the only power you wield is fear?”

  My jaw clenched. “I don’t need you.”

  Hades sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “You mortals. Always mistaking suffering for strength.”

  I bristled at the word. “I am not mortal.”

  “Oh, no, not anymore.” His gaze flickered, his smirk widening. “And yet, you still cling to their weaknesses. Their stubbornness. Their hope.”

  The word curled from his lips like poison, like it was something pathetic. I hated that it stung.

  “Tell me,” he murmured, his voice lowering, silk and steel intertwined. “Do you really believe you can do this alone?”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I said nothing.

  Hades leaned in slightly, his breath cold against my skin. “You want justice. I can give it to you.”

  The air was thick, suffocating, pressing against my chest.

  Justice.

  The word coiled through me, venomous and tempting. The gods had denied me justice. The mortals had turned me into a myth, a cautionary tale twisted beyond recognition. If anyone could balance the scales, it was Hades.

  And yet…

  The serpents writhed against me, uneasy. My fingers curled into fists.

  “I don’t trust you,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

  Hades exhaled a quiet laugh, stepping back, his golden eyes still locked on mine. “Good.”

  That was not the answer I expected.

  He turned slightly, as if preparing to leave. But I knew better. Gods didn’t simply walk away.

  Sure enough, he paused at the threshold, glancing at me over his shoulder. “You’ll regret this,” he said, and this time, there was no teasing in his voice. It was a promise.

  Then he was gone.

  The room was quiet, but his presence still clung to the air like smoke after a fire. I let out a slow breath, my body still wound tight.

  Orion moved beside me, his voice low. “That was… dangerous.”

  I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “You wanted me to resist.”

  “I did,” he admitted, “but I also know Hades doesn’t lose. He doesn’t make offers—he collects. And if you won’t take his deal now, he’ll make sure you need him later.”

  The serpents coiled tighter, uneasy.

  I ran a hand through my hair, exhaustion settling in. “Let him try.”

  Orion didn’t argue, but something in his expression told me he knew this was far from over.

  And deep down, so did I.

  The First Strike

  The night was silent when it came.

  A whisper of movement. A flicker of something wrong in the air. The serpents stirred first, hissing low in warning. My eyes snapped open, my fingers curling around the dagger at my waist.

  Orion was already up, his stance rigid, his own blade drawn. “Something’s coming,” he muttered.

  I pushed to my feet, my senses stretching outward. The shadows in the room felt thicker than before, clinging to the walls like living things. And then—

  A breath.

  Not my own.

  The air shifted, and something lunged.

  I ducked, my body reacting before my mind caught up. The impact sent me stumbling, but I twisted, the dagger flashing as I struck blindly. A sharp, inhuman screech erupted as the blade connected with something solid, and then I saw it—

  A Shade.

  But not like before. This one was larger, its form barely holding together, as though it had been stitched from nightmares and smoke. It moved in jerky, unnatural motions, its burning silver eyes locked onto me.

  Orion moved first, his blade slicing through the air. The Shade twisted unnaturally, avoiding the strike, and then it spoke.

  “The Lord of the Dead sends his regards.”

  Ice crawled up my spine.

  Hades.

  Rage surged through me, cutting through the fear. He had done this.

  The Shade lunged again, and this time, I didn’t run. I met it.

  The dagger buried deep into its chest, and I called upon the curse, my gaze locking onto its writhing form. The power surged forward, and the Shade froze. Its shriek echoed as its body solidified, the black mist that made up its form turning to hardened stone.

  And then, with a final crack—

  It shattered.

  The pieces scattered across the floor, dissolving into dust. The silence left behind was deafening.

  Orion exhaled sharply. “That was a warning.”

  I sheathed my dagger, my breath still heavy. “I know.”

  And worse—I knew it was only the first.

  Hades wasn’t going to let me refuse him. He was going to force my hand.

  Fine.

  Let him try.