Hades

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I leap to my feet, my hands covering my mouth in horror. I fly to his side, blood-chilling panic clutching my spine in a death-grip. Hades grunts softly and leans against the doorway, his fingers tightly clutching the frame as his knees waver like melted metal. His striking blue eyes stick out like they're too big for his face, his face a deathly shade of pale. A large, deep cut carves a bloody line across his face, from his cheekbone down to the bottom of his chin. Dried blood cakes the entire left side of his face as thick, maroon blood continues to ooze from the wound. It doesn't take a genius to know that he would have died from the blood loss already, had he not been an immortal deity. And even though I'm still new to the whole immortal-deity-deal, I do know that we aren't supposed to bleed this much. Not nearly this much.

"Evie." My name barely makes it past his lips as he tries to straighten, still swaying unsteadily on his feet. He tries to take a step forward and stumbles, crumpling into a heap.

"No!" I let out a cry and surge forward, barely managing to wrap my arms around him before he hits the ground. Hades groans quietly but thankfully doesn't resist, leaning on me as I help him over to my sofa. My hands shake as I slowly lower him onto the couch. Hades slumps over his knees, closing his eyes and breathing in heavily. I try — and fail — to stop the fear from tightening its grip on my chest.

"What the hell happened, Hades? You're gone for almost five days, and then suddenly turn up looking like death? I know you're the patron god of the dead, but don't you think this is taking things a little far?!"

Hades doesn't respond, growing paler and more subdued by the minute. A large, thick droplet of blood trickles down his cheek and splatters against the pristine white marble floors. I run my hands agitatedly through my hair, my mind racing.

What do I do? Oh my god, what do I do? I wasn't trained for this! What the hell does one do when their immortal boyfriend turns up looking like literal death? Hades didn't prepare me for this!

Okay. Okay. Breathe, Evie. First things first, stop the bleeding and get Hades cleaned up. Make sure he doesn't become the first immortal deity to die. Then we figure out what to do next.

"Hades, I'm sorry but you need to stand up. We need to pack that wound; you're losing too much blood." I say worriedly. Hades doesn't move, letting out a shuddering breath. I swallow hard and wind my arms around his shoulders, gently trying to help him to his feet. I try to ignore how much my hands are shaking, or how fast my heart is beating. "Hades, please. You've got to stand up."

Hades grunts, but nods. My heart wrenches in my chest as I helplessly watch him struggle to his feet. When he finally manages to straighten, a loud hiss of pain rasps through his teeth. My heart leaps up into my throat, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

"I'm sorry. Can you take us to my room?"

He nods imperceptibly, and wraps an arm around my waist. I don't miss the way his jaw clenches as the marble walls around us recede into darkness.

As soon as the familiar surroundings of my room flicker into view, Hades collapses onto my bed. A dull thud echoes around the room as his head hits the bedpost, hard. His eyes flutter shut. My heart is beating so quickly by this point that it takes all my strength not to let the panic attack take me right then and there. Instead, I distract myself by trying to find something to press against his wound. After a few moments of desperate distressing, I decide that my t-shirt would be the best interim solution until I'd raided my bathroom supplies. I whip it off without a moment's hesitation and press it into Hades' hand.

"Here, use this to stop the bleeding. I'll go and find something in the bathroom; will you be okay to stay here?"

Hades nods, not even managing the energy to open his eyes and look at what I'd handed him. I hesitate, my hands uselessly wavering in the dead air between us. After a moment of deliberation, the rational side of me finally manages to convince the irrational side that I can't do anything helpful just standing there fretting, so I rush to my bathroom and frantically search through all the cabinets. After what feels like an eternity, I finally manage to find a medical kit stashed under the sink. Relief floods my veins. I grab the kit and a flurry of towels and throw them in the direction of my bed, before wetting a handful of face-cloths and finally flitting back to Hades.