Hades Rewound (Hades Series #2)

Prologue

Prologue

He was angry.

It was a strange feeling to him. Of course, he had felt anger before, but not for several centuries, and not this kind of anger. This anger was all-consuming. He could feel it slowly building up inside him, bubbling and churning like molten lava. It gnawed away at his better reason, melted down his logical arguments until only white hot fury remained festering inside him. He couldn't ignore it; it was like a volcano preparing to explode. He knew it was only a matter of time before it erupted and rained red-hot molten fury everywhere.

Once before he had felt this kind of anger. That time had famously ended with him, his brothers and sisters locking his father and their associates in an inescapable prison.

Only this time, he wanted to lock those same brothers inside the inescapable prison and let it's current inhabitants out.

He sighs, slowly tapping his fingers on the deep blue crystal paperweight. He had been so close. So close. It seems almost laughable now that the only thing that had hindered him was his brother's infuriating stubbornness. That, and.... Her.

Quick as a crashing wave, his fingers curl around the paperweight and squeeze so hard large root-like cracks begin to splinter the surface.

She reminded him of a box jellyfish. Effervescently entrancing and unassumingly fragile in appearance, but with a potent sting that could fell even the strongest of men (or gods, in his case). Had she been anybody else, he would have easily crushed her. But he underestimated her. She was much more resilient than he initially thought, had mastered her skills much quicker than most newborn goddesses, and seemed to be entirely infused with stupid bravado.

Most frustratingly of all was the small, niggling fact that his brother seemed inordinately obsessed with her.

That was what annoyed him the most.

The girl had no substance. Yes, she was amusingly feisty and blindly courageous, he would give her that. But he could not understand what it was about her that made his brother so quickly fall in love with her, and then turn on him without hesitation. Now that he thought more about it, the little human-turned-goddess seemed to have all of his brothers and sisters twined around her insignificant little finger.

Anger floods his veins the more he considered the little witch that was Evie Autumn.

The paperweight groans under the roots of his fury and crumbles to dust in his fingers.

He stands up, breathing in deliberately in an attempt to control his rage. He would have to make sure she was properly out of his way next time.

Yes. Next time. His anger dissipates away as calmly as a receding tide, and he smiles. His brother had been far too eager to trust him again, so desperate to forgive him even after all his shortcomings, that he had believed his assurances that he would not attempt to free their father. That was his one big weakness; he liked to believe the best in everybody, despite their many, many sins. Maybe that's why he'd humoured the human race for so long. Maybe that's why he thought he was the rightful ruler of the gods.

But he wasn't.

And once he was through with his brother, the whole world would understand why.

If only a plausible plan would formulate in his mind; one that not only included both breaking out his father and usurping his brother from his throne, but also removing the annoying prick in his side that was Hades' little wench.

He rubs his fingers together slowly, watching the dust of the paperweight trickle to the ground like tiny specks of sand.

"My lord?" A nymph disguised as a lowly businessman knocks on the door, something peculiar in his hand. He turns around, raising his eyebrow at the nymph.

"Yes?"

The nymph swallows, fear clear in his eyes. He smiles, the thought of the nymph's terror in his presence maliciously pleasing him. "This... arrived for you earlier. I don't know why, but it did, and..."

He holds his hand out, silently cutting the nymph off, and he scurries forward. The small piece of paper is offensively white, with small red details curling around the corner. His face turns thunderous when he realises what it is.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of...

He lifts one hand and a sharp burst of water sends the nymph screaming out of the window and over the steep cliff that his palace precipices over.

Just as the sound of the nymph's body shattering over the sharp rocks at the bottom filters through the broken window, a tiny grain of a thought suddenly seeds in his mind. A small triumphant smirk turns his lips up as the plan formulates. His fingers skim over the inscriptions on the invitation in his hand.

Yes, this would be the perfect way to exact his... for lack of a better and more conventional word, revenge. This way, he can slyly execute a way to restore his father to his former glory, and torture the little bitch before he destroys her in the same fashion as his brothers.

The first step? He smirks, straightening his tie.

Why, he had a little wedding to attend.