The King Of Death | Hades + Fae

Chapter Ten

Hades

White hot rage courses through my body like a thrumming pain, hissing underneath my skin as I'm left alone within my chambers. I don't know what overcame me when I lost control and shoved Tallulah against the wall, but every rational thought slipped out of my mind and the only thing I could hear was an echo of a voice begging me to get closer to her, to touch her and feel her skin beneath mine.

I'd seen her power first hand the day she had imprisoned me, and she had bested me then. Yet, when I had her pinned beneath my body she held her power back. It coated her hands in threat, but didn't touch me. Why didn't it touch me?

Those thoughts are second to the ones thumping against my skull as I pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching my fists. No, the one thing that overpowered every rational thought was the unbridled anger that overtook me the moment another man laid his hands on her.

My power sizzles beneath my skin but I can't let it out. Not now. You're free to move around the castle. Tallulah had granted me more freedom despite my actions, and without questioning why I found myself stepping into my boots and storming for the door.

"Bold of you to leave so quickly." A deep grumble greets me the moment my chamber doors open and one of the golden guards leans against the wall, tension in his shoulders. I can all but taste the cockiness floating off of him.

"I need to get rid of some energy, I'm not one to be cooped up all day." The brown haired fae pushes himself off of the wall but keeps his arms securely crossed over his gold plated chest. Clawed tips of leathery wings peak out from over his shoulders. A Bellator. Warrior fae that hail from the southern borders of Ulanda, though from the book I'd been reading yesterday not many remained as they were all male. How they were created still eluded me, but I now knew enough to respect his presence somewhat more than ordinary fae.

"Hmm." The man looks over me slowly, his brown eyes assessing and calculating as he thinks over his next words. I do my best to appear less threatening, lowering my shoulders and leaning on my left hip but I still stand half a foot taller than the guard.

"We have a training wing, equiped for the soldiers to hone their skills. I suppose you may use it." It takes me a moment to notice that he was not one of the guards who separated Tallulah and I. I part my lips to ask why the four guards look so similar, but before I can the man turns on his heel and begins walking away.

I know he wants me to follow so I quickly fall into step behind him, shortening my strides so that I don't overtake the warrior.

As we walk I actually take in the world around me. Humans build atop of nature, but the fae build around it. Every crack, every crevice that appeared in the old stone foundations was littered with life. Flowers and leaves wove around the structure keeping everything solid. Windows arch around us bathing the hallways in natural light, no glass separates the outside world from us giving me a sense of freedom even as I walk on marble floors.

"It's an old human castle, we rebuilt it." The golden warrior speaks without turning, like he can sense my awe even not having seen my face. The senses of the fae were something I knew I needed to get used to, but with each step the anger that was plaguing me washed away. Laughter flits up from below and I slow to stare out of the closest arch. Children splash in a natural pool carved from rock below us while parents sit with legs dangling into the crystal waters. Something bumps into my shoulder pulling my gaze away as a group of girls who looked to be in their mid twenties throw an apology over thier shoulder and continue running with skirts bunched in their hands and giggles floating around them. A few boys round the corner with childish grins on their faces as they chase them down the hall. I step forward, but a strong hand falls on my upper arm to stop me.

"They're playing." The guard mumbles, sounding slightly irritated at my naivety. I clear my throat and turn my blue eyes back to him.

"They look too old to be playing." I grumble back, earning an eye roll.

"You're never too old to play, Hades." He turns and continues to walk, leaving me trailing behind him.

"Fae are naturally light hearted creatures, we have to be with our lifespans. When some of us can live a thousand years why bother spending it being a bore?" I purse my lips at his words, almost feeling like he'd sharpened his knife and stabbed me in the side. I'd lost my sense of playfulness so long ago that even the concept was foreign to me.

"Here we are." The gold guard stops in front of a large oak door with an iron handle. The sounds of clashing steel and grunts seep through the cracks and the tension that I'd been ignoring suddenly itches at me with the need to let go.

The moment the doors open, I'm given a peek into the other side of the fae. At least twenty bodies move gracefully around the large room. Fae battle in leather one on one and two on two, some weilding vines and air with flames shooting from palms and ice skittering up swords. The room itself is bare, but the whole far wall is nonexistent leaving a sharp drop down to a rocky ravine below. The only safety being the soft rush of water at the bottom which would soften your fall, if you didn't hit the jagged edges on the way down.

A few heads turn our way, but no one stops their sparring. The golden guard moves with purpose to my left, stopping a few feet away from two fae, one of which I recognise as the man who hovered over Tallulah in my room a few hours earlier. Unlike his adversary, he doesn't don any armour, dressed in only a pair of leather pants sheathed with so many daggers that he glints in the sun with every movement. His wings stay taut at his back but they move with him as he dodges another blast of ice. His eyes lock with that of his fellow guard and a small smirk finds its way onto his lips. Within a second, he's unsheathed one of his daggers and it finds home in the upper thigh of the blue haired fae before him. He was toying with him.

"Heavens sake, Grison! Could you not have defeated me without a trip to the infirmary?!" The fae groans, now crouched on the ground with a hand on the hilt of his dagger. No one around us stops, seemingly used to the blood drawn within these walls. The man called Grison chuckles and reaches out a hand to his fallen comrade.

"Stop being a baby, Alesto." The guard who came with me rolls his eyes as the blue haired fae limps off. It takes a second, but soon both winged men have turned their brown eyes to me.

"What's he doing here, Pilos?" Grison asks, and suddenly the image of him hovering over Tallulah's body flitters into the forefront of my mind once more. My hands clench and small wisps of shadows float out from between my fingers.

"I came to fight, so let's fight."