Howl of the Wolf

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Hades wasn’t happy. And when he wasn’t happy, every demon and cursed soul in his realm held its breath, hoping to evade his notice. When he wasn’t happy, people died.

Two enormous demons stood guard by his door. Both were twice his size, but he could end their miserable lives with a wave of his hand, and they both knew it. He could smell their fear, taste it on his tongue. It was better than the finest wine.

“Leave me.” In their haste to escape his presence they almost tripped over one another. At any other time it would have amused him greatly. But not today.

Hades stared at the gilded mirror, his window into this or any other world, and brooded. The Lady of the Beasts, the goddess he’d held captive for more than five thousand years, had managed to escape his realm. He could see her in the mirror as clearly as if she were standing right in front of him. Totally naked with her hands raised in the air, she stood in a mountain glade filled with wildflowers and birds. He could hear the birds singing and the Lady humming a jaunty tune. It was sickening really.

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