As Hades drives, his knuckles turn white from his iron grip on the steering wheel, the tendons in his forearms standing out in stark relief against his skin. I don’t dare ask him what he was doing at that mansion or thank him for rescuing me from Collins’ clutches. The rage rolling off him in suffocating waves is enough to make me weak in the knees, my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth.
After what feels like an eternity, the car finally rolls to a stop. I glance out the window, my brow furrowing when I realize we’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but towering trees and oppressive silence.
“Get out,” Hades growls, his voice rough and raw with barely contained fury.
I scramble to obey, practically falling out of the car in my haste to put some distance between us. H
