Fallen
“No. I just wanted to make it better.”
Hades stopped inches from her. The scent of his cologne — cedar, smoke, and danger — filled her lungs, dizzying. His gloved hand lifted her chin with a single finger, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Better?” he repeated. “Nothing here is meant to be better, Nina. This isn’t a home. It’s a fortress. A grave dressed in marble.”
Tears threatened, but she held them back.
“Then maybe it needs flowers,” she whispered.
Bab Populer