Hades Legacy (Hades Series #3)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Later, Dorian finds me lying on my bed on my back, staring up at the ceiling as I mindlessly practice with my power. It appears and disappears between my fingers like a small ball of dark grey smoke, twisting and interweaving into different shapes like little black threads, constantly shifting. One second, it's an ordinary sphere; the next, it's a glittering black arrow; then the next, a big scrawling mess, like I've scribbled messily in the air with a big black pen. I frown and flick my fingers, attempting to smooth the scribble out into a less offensive shape, but if anything it just darkens in colour and continues to fluctuate spasmodically in the air like it's taunting me. Anger pulses through my veins; it's just another big fat reminder that my father was right, and that infuriates me.

"Well damn princess, I haven't seen you frown like that since I accidentally knocked your book into the fireplace. Should I prepare myself to get thrown across the room?"

The sound of his voice breaks through my concentration like a knife through butter, and the black smoke dissipates abruptly into thin air. I sigh in frustration, propping myself up on my elbows to glare at Dorian.

"Don't you ever knock?"

"No." He shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. "That's much too polite, and I have a reputation to uphold."

I don't reply, flopping back down on my bedspread with a barely audible sigh.

I hear footsteps, and seconds later Dorian's face appears right in the middle of my vision. He scrutinizes me in the most overdramatic fashion. "What's going on with you? Why are you all frowny?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you." He narrows his eyes at me. "What's up buttercup?"

I give him a dead look.

He tries again. "What's the deal, banana peel?"

I blink out of view to prove my point to him.

He still knows exactly where I am though, and flicks my nose so hard that I waver back into visibility. I rub my nose and scowl at him, properly offended. "What's the word, hummingbird?"

"Dorian. Stop."

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

"What are you, a rhyming idioms encyclopedia?" I try to keep my expression neutral, but I can already feel the irrepressible laughter bubbling up inside me at his ridiculous attempts to cheer me up.

"What's shakin', bacon?"

"Stop!"

"I won't stop until you tell me what's bothering you." He retorts, his blue eyes glinting impishly. "What's the story, morning-"

"Okay, fine!" I shove my hand over his mouth, giving him a look. "I'll tell you, so long as you stop with those ridiculous idioms."

He nods, blinking contritely, and when I remove my hand, there's a triumphant smirk dancing over his lips. I roll my eyes, shuffling over so he has room to sit on my bed next to me.

"I hate you."

"No you don't. You love me." He replies cockily, puffing out his chest. He leans against the end of my four-post bed with his hands linked behind his head, wriggling his eyebrows at me. "So. Why so glum, chum?"

I sigh, grabbing one of my many assorted cushions and hugging it to my chest. I stare down at the forest green bedspread in front of me. "I had an argument with my parents."

"Really? That's news to me." He says after a moment, his hesitation cluing me into his little white lie. I roll my eyes.

"Don't lie to me Dorian, I know you've already heard."