I’m dying, and the only one who can save me is him.
Hades, king of the Underworld, god of the dead, ruler of... Honestly? He’s got too many names to list.
You know the guy.
Apparently, I need him to survive this disease that’s been a death sentence since I was born.
Apparently, I’m also the reincarnation of his queen, Persephone. How’s that for a kicker?
Little, hideous me, who uses tattoos to cover his endless flaws and whose only power is seeing death at every corner.
And apparently, we have to do the deed to save me from certain demise.
Yeah. If I wasn’t so unequivocally...me, I’d think it was a very elaborate scheme to get me into bed.
But even that goes wrong.
So. Terribly. Wrong.
And now everything is effed up.
Figures. Only I could break the god of the freaking dead.
