He still isn't dead. But not from lack of trying. Because trust me, I've tried a thousand fucking times.

"A knife? Are you flirting with me?" He smirks up at me from his position on the mossy ground, the blade of my serrated knife pinned against his throat once again. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

I press harder and draw blood. Baring my teeth, I lean closer into his simpering face. "How's this for flirting?"

I can't even begin to describe the amount of anger boiling inside me. Here I am, steel to his throat, spewing profanities instead of his blood. His obvious amusement makes it worse.

He laughs up at me. I see magic sparkling in his emerald eyes. Dark, dirty, beautiful magic. Along with it dances something akin to desire. Now whether that longing is to capture my lips, or drive this blade through my heart, is entirely up to interpretation.

In the blink of an eye, he rolls me onto my back and braces the knife against the fragile skin of my throat. The smirk is still lingering on his lips as I squirm beneath him, now fully at his mercy. "Oh, nothing to say now, Persephone?"

"Fuck you," I hiss, glaring up at him. Nothing irks me more than to stare into the leering face of the god of the underworld. He's so cocky it's sickening.

The chuckle vibrates from his chest and into mine. He licks his lips, his fanged teeth glinting in the light. "I'm beginning to think that's exactly what you want to do."

My eyes widen. "Absolutely not-"

"Then why else are you still here?" He cuts me off, slowly deepening the touch of the steel at my neck. "You can't kill what's already dead."

"You're not dead enough for me," I spit out, the metal nicking my skin at my rebuttal.

The cut stings, but not more than Hades' words. What he says is true. What's dead is just that, dead. There's no way to make it any more deceased than it already is. None of that has stopped me from trying every chance I get, though.

I've been using the same methods and expecting a different outcome. The very definition of insanity. But who said I was sane to begin with? I've fallen in love with an arrogant god, and the only thing I've attempted is his murder. I blame him for things that aren't his fault, instead of turning the accusations to the real reason my life crashed and burned.

The sudden warmth of his tongue against the cool sharpness of the blade sets my pulse fluttering. His dark lashes hood his eyes, but I can see the fire alight in them as he tastes my blood.

"Funny how your mouth says one thing, but your ichor says another." His head tilts back as he locks his dark pupils on mine, a smidge of scalding red smearing the side of his mouth. "You don't hate me, Persephone. You love me. You're just too afraid to admit it."

"And what are you gonna do about it?" I swallow, and the edge slices my skin again. A bead of red trickles down my throat and I stare into his eyes. My heart thumps in my ears as I await his response in the sudden quiet.

He removes the knife, his gaze resting lazily on the curve of my lips. "Try me, and maybe I'll let you find out."

I want to find out. I want to test him with everything in me. Just run headfirst into whatever chaos this man desires while fighting his will every step of the way.

But before I can do that, I have to get rid of the resentment I've built towards him over someone else's actions. My tongue swipes over my lips slowly, my focus on the soft curvature of his mouth. The best way to overcome resentment is to replace it with raging hunger.

He peers down at me with a wolfish grin, leaning forward until the warmth of his breath fans my face. His pointed teeth ensnare my bottom lip with a primal passion, and it's in that moment I know lusting after him will be the least of my worries.