She was unconscious.
Or maybe sleeping.
Or maybe both.
Hades didn't care.
He carried her in his arms like a burden he wasn't sure how he'd ended up with, his jaw tight and eyes like polished stone. Every step he took from his car toward his private apartment echoed with tension, his expensive shoes barely making a sound, but his presence screaming with authority. And anger.
If someone asked him why exactly he was angry, he may not be able to tell.
By the time he kicked open the door, the silence inside the sleek modern space shattered.
Milo in the middle of a call while standing in front of the TV with reduced volume stopped mid-sentence, looking like a dropped ice cream cone.
Rowan, who had been typing furiously on his laptop, blinked as if he'd just seen a ghost.
Even Gavin, who was down the stairs now looked at Hades and Alice in his arms, only raised a brow, a silent judgment in his gaze.
But no one said anything for a solid five seconds.
