My Lord Hades Read Online Free PDF Page B

bestow upon my allies their rewards.
    The Cyclopes have earned their land. And you, your kingdom.”
    “The Titans still need to be rounded up and imprisoned in Tartarus. Would you aid us in this task, Hades?” Poseidon asked.
    Hades smiled at the two gods. “No.”
    He flashed away from the battlefield and to the misty coolness of the seashore before they could protest. Simply looking at the vast blueness offered him a certain peace, centering him, allowing the bloodlust and anger to melt from his heart.
    He loved the volatile moods of the sea, peace and calm one moment, and raging storm the
    next. They had a lot in common. They were changeable creatures, answering to no one,
    expecting nothing and having no expectations. They had few rules, their own codes of conduct that didn’t always make sense to others. They were free.
    Closing his eyes, he lifted his face to the sky, enjoying the warm caress of the sunlight on his skin. He was tired of hatred and anger, vengeance and blood, politics and power struggles. He was so tired of killing and the petty squabbles of gods. He only wished to be free of it all.
    He would receive his reward from Zeus, rule his kingdom, and never to return. He would
    never know the dark despair of the Underworld ever again. He would go on with his immortal life, and maybe one day, he would be at peace with himself.
    Glancing down at the blood and gore covering his armor, he felt his body revolt and the bile rise in his throat. Dropping the helmet and his bloody sword in the sand, he tore off his gauntlets, and clawed at the blood soaked ties holding his breastplate together. His boots, tunic, and loin cloth followed the rest into the sand.
    Naked, the salty sea air swirling around him, the coolness was heaven compared to the
    sweaty grime of being trapped in battle gear. He ignored the voice of his mother, whose constant instructions reminded him that a warrior always took care of his weapons and armor before himself, and submerged himself in the surf.
    The water washed over him. The echoing waves pulsed through his veins, filling him with a calm that had evaded him for so long. He scrubbed the coarse grains of sand into his skin until it reddened and burned, until his flesh bled and the saltwater stung the cuts, until every inch was cleansed of blood, battle, and vengeance. But he couldn’t cleanse his blackened soul.
    Leaving the water, he strode to the top of the sand dune overlooking a small bay and stared down upon the empty sands where the prosperous fishing village that had once been his sister’s home had rested. There were no nets or fish smoking over the fires, no huts, no boats, and no people. No sign that anyone had ever been here. Only his memories attested to the truth that anyone had lived in this place.
    He could still see the shine of her black hair in the sun as she raced through the sands and played in the surf. He saw her laughing, her black eyes glowing in the firelight. He felt the passion she had for life radiating from her like a candle in the darkness.
    He sighed. Leuce would always be part of him, regardless of where he went or what he did, because she’d taught him the hardest lesson in his life. He could care.
    As he sat on the beach, cleaning the blood from his black armor, and forced back the tears threatening to fall. He wasn’t allowed the act of tears as a child and he wouldn’t cry now. He was a disciplined killer, a cold-hearted warrior! He would not be soft, not when he needed his strength more than ever.
    He could not mourn the woman he cared for, the life he wanted and been denied, the life he desired and would never know, and the woman he now craved and could never have. But he
    could exalt in the vengeance he’d obtained for his sister and her family. Their souls could now rest. He only hoped that they might forgive him his part in their deaths.
    The release of emotion was as cleansing to his soul as the sands had been to his body. He felt light and