A Touch of Chaos (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 7)

Theseus gathered Helen’s hair into his hands as she knelt on the plush carpet of the hotel room. Even with this view, he barely registered the feel of her mouth around him, so caught up in his anger over what had happened at the labyrinth.

He had watched Ariadne and the Goddess of Spring from the moment they had arrived on the island of Knossos and made their descent into his dark prison. He’d heard every conversation, every scream and desperate cry. He’d witnessed their greatest desires come to life as the magic of the labyrinth took root in their minds, though neither surprised him.

Persephone desired identity.

Ariadne desired family.

Theseus desired to strip them of both—and he would. It was just a matter of time. What both failed to realize was that he could not be defeated. He had fulfilled the prophecy of the ophiotaurus. He was destined to overthrow the gods, and when he succeeded, they would pay for their insolence, but none so much as Ariadne.

Ariadne had betrayed him, and for that, she would suffer.

He grew harder at the thought of what he would do to her, how he would torture her, and he would start by punishing that wicked mouth.

The pressure around his cock changed, growing in intensity, and when he looked down, Ariadne was on her knees before him. A hot wave of lust tore through him, and his hold tightened in her thick hair. She paused, her dark eyes lifting to his. She straightened, bracing her hands against his thighs, knowing what was to come.

He thrust into her mouth and held her tight, shifting deeper. He could feel the back of her throat against the head of his cock as she gagged, her nails biting hard into his skin. The pain spurred him on, the pressure building until he exploded into her.

He wasn’t sure if she pushed away from him or if she tore away, but when he stared down at the woman at his feet, it was no longer Ariadne but Helen. She was gasping for breath and coughing, his come dripping from her mouth to the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes watery, full of hate.

He was getting used to that expression. She’d looked at him similarly after he’d fucked her in the conference room at New Athens News, yet she had still come when he’d summoned her to the Diadem and knelt when he’d ordered.

She said nothing as she rose to her feet and disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds, he heard the shower running. He thought she might use it to muffle her cries, but instead, he could make out the distinct sound of vomiting.

He ground his teeth, disgusted, and left the room, entering the adjoining suite.

He had left Knossos shortly after Hades, Persephone, and Ariadne, not even bothering to unearth Sandros. He was likely still trapped under rubble given that it was adamant and nearly impossible for him to move on his own, but it would serve as a fitting punishment for the time being for his failure to subdue the Goddess of Spring.

Another wave of anger overtook him as he stepped into the shower, yet he knew it was futile to feel such emotion. It did not matter that the three had escaped, because he was destined to win. While he had hoped to lure Cronos into partnership by offering Hades as a sacrifice, he could do the same with Zeus.

He still had the upper hand.

Let them revel in this victory, he thought. The higher they climb, the harder their fall.

Theseus finished bathing, and when he returned to his room, Helen waited, a picture of perfection. Looking at her now, no one would expect that minutes ago, she had knelt before him and took his cock to the back of her throat.

As he dressed, she spoke.

“I have prepared a statement announcing the birth of your son. As requested, it states you were present upon his arrival.”

The corner of his lips lifted at her disparaging tone.

“Is that contempt I hear in your voice, Helen?”

Her silence spoke volumes, but then she asked, “Do you even know his name?”

He turned to face her as he knotted his tie.

“Have you suddenly developed a moral compass?”

“I have always held certain values,” she snapped.

“Oh? And what are they? Dishonesty? Treachery? Desperation?”

She glared. “You have no reason to accuse me of such things.”

“Of course I do. You displayed each one when you abandoned your friends for me.”

“I did not abandon anyone for you. I chose Triad.”

“I am Triad.”

She glared at him, her chest rising and falling with her anger.

He scowled. “Help me with this fucking tie!”

She lifted her chin, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse, but then she rose to approach him.

“Who were you thinking about when you were fucking my face?” she asked.

Theseus did not like her question. It felt too familiar, like she was a lover demanding answers.

“Jealous, Helen?”

“She’s under your skin,” she said.

His muscles went rigid. She was suggesting he had a weakness. “For all you know, it was my wife,” he said.

“The wife you left alone while she gave birth to your son?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”

He let his hands rest on her hips, fingers pressing hard into her skin.

“Know your place, Helen,” he said.

“If you ever do that to me again, I will bite your dick off,” she said. “I do not care about the consequences. Are we understood?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. He said nothing, and she continued as if they had never gone off topic.

“The reporters are waiting outside the hospital. When you exit the front, you will pause at the top step with Phaedra, announce your son, smile and wave, and then guide her to the waiting SUV.”

She slipped the knot of his tie up, snug against his neck, causing him to cough. He knocked her hands away and turned toward the mirror, adjusting the tie so that it wouldn’t choke him to death before he made it to Phaedra’s room.

“I know how to charm the press,” he said.

It was Phaedra they needed to worry about. This would be their first appearance together since the incident in the hall, though he suspected she would do anything to please him, clinging to the hope that if she did, he might still love her.

He did not really care what she had to tell herself, so long as she played her part. A part that was even more critical now that Ariadne had made her choice to side with Hades and Persephone.

He watched Helen cross to the bedside table to pick up her tablet and purse.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked.

“I have to work,” she said, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He turned to face her. “You work for me.”

She ground her teeth, a spark of anger in her eyes.

He chuckled. She didn’t like that, which made it even more satisfying.

“You are the one who told me to have a counterattack ready for Persephone,” she said. “And I have a lead.”

“Anything you want to share?”

“I prefer it to be a surprise,” she said.

He tilted his head to the side, studying her. He waited for her to drop her gaze or fidget with her stuff—to show some kind of discomfort—but she remained poised beneath his scrutiny.

He approached, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. She stiffened as his hand came to rest against her neck.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Helen?”

“No,” she said.

“No?” he asked, increasing the pressure against her throat. He felt her swallow beneath his hold. “Or never?”

She did not answer, and after a moment, he dropped his hand, pleased by the way she seemed to slump when he released her. He thought he almost liked her fear more than her acquiescence.

“If you had said never, I wouldn’t have believed you,” he said. “And then I would have killed you.”

She didn’t even blink, and he could not decide if she was brave or foolish.

He had played this game for years, and he knew the kind of person she was—an opportunist, eager to please so long as it meant a ride to the top—and he was willing to indulge her until she was no longer useful, though he had no doubt she was planning to stab him in the back before then.

It was a good thing he was invincible.

Helen turned, and he watched as she retreated, speaking only as she made it to the door.

“His name is Acamas,” he said, and when Helen looked back at him, he offered a warning. “I know your loyalty is tied to ambition, Helen. Just remember you can’t rise from the dead.”

Theseus teleported to the Asclepius Community Hospital.

When he arrived, he expected Tannis to greet him in the hallway outside Phaedra’s door but found it abandoned. In fact, the whole wing was quiet. His immediate reaction was not to overthink—perhaps Tannis had cleared the wing and gone inside to help Phaedra prepare for her departure.

When he entered, he found Tannis, but he was not with Phaedra. He was on his knees. Perseus stood behind him, a gun pointed at the back of his head.

Theseus closed the door.

“Tell Lord Theseus where his wife is, Tannis,” Perseus said.

There was a brief pause, and then in a quiet tone, Tannis said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Theseus repeated. He looked at Perseus and then around the room, but there was no sign of their belongings. “And what about my son?”

“I…don’t know…my lord,” Tannis said.

“But he was born?” Theseus’s voice trembled.

“I heard his cries.”

Theseus clenched his teeth. Each word only succeeded in making him angrier. He could not describe this feeling, this rage, but all he could think was that he had had a son and now he was gone. It was the only thing he could think and that…surprised him.

“When did you realize he was missing?”

“The doctor never left the room,” Tannis answered.

Never left.

Never left.

He fixated on those words.

Never left.

Someone had certainly left, and they had taken his wife and his child.

His property and legacy.

Theseus regarded the bodyguard for a moment and then met Perseus’s gaze. The demigod pulled the trigger, executing Tannis with a single bullet to the back of his head. Theseus had no more use for the man who had failed to protect his wife and child, no need to ask him any more questions. He knew who was responsible for this.

Ariadne.

“Have you located Doctor Phanes?” Theseus asked. He watched as Tannis’s blood pooled on the floor.

“He is being escorted here now along with his nurse,” Perseus said. “We found them in the parking garage, disoriented.”

She’s under your skin.

It was true. Ariadne was under his skin, and he hated her for it.

Hated her because she knew and she had used it to her advantage, to take control of this very moment. He had to admit he was surprised she had made her move, knowing he would seek revenge…knowing Phaedra would suffer too.

The door opened, and Theseus looked up to find Damian, a son of Zeus, entering with the doctor and a middle-aged woman. At first, their expressions were distant, a symptom of compulsion, but then their eyes fell to Tannis, lifeless on the floor.

The nurse screamed, and Damian covered her mouth, muffling the sound.

“Please, my lord,” Doctor Phanes begged, eyes already watering. His large, sweaty forehead gleamed under the fluorescent lights. “I…I do not know what happened.”

“Shh,” Theseus said as he approached and pressed a finger to the man’s lips. He waited until he was certain the doctor would remain quiet before pulling his hand away. “I know it was not your fault. Some things are outside your control, just like the length of your life.”

Theseus took a step back, and Perseus raised his weapon.

“Please,” the doctor whispered, his plea drowned by the sound of Perseus’s gun firing.

The nurse screamed but she was silenced shortly after by Damian, who kept his hand over her mouth and wound his arm tightly around her neck until she slid to the floor.

In the quiet that followed, Perseus spoke.

“I will find her, my lord, and your son.”

But Theseus did not need help locating them. He knew exactly where they were.

“No,” he said. “You will bring me Dionysus.”