A/N: I seriously do not know where I get these sick ideas. hides head Neways, I've always had an interest in mythology and ancient gods, and for some reason I have this seriously messed up idea that Hades is hot OO I mean, come on…lord of the underworld…that's just sexy.

…..yea.

Anyways, I just felt like writing something about it, stop laughing! shakes fist I'm just making this up as I go along (actually, I do most of my stories, but this one I don't really have much of a clue what I'm going to do with it) so bear with me, lol. Also, the title sucks, I'm trying to think of a new one. If you can think of a better one, please tell me cries It's that for now…coz..like…he's hawt…and she gets scorched by his awesome hawtness…and yea….End A/N

Summary: Breck has always had an interest in mythology and the ancient gods, and she had always believed in them, in some small way. But she had no idea how real they were about to become—especially a particularily sexy one.

(Extended) Breck Story had been only innocently flipping through a book, admiring the lost gods of years past, when she saw him: there, in a small corner of the page and flashing her a deadly, sexy glare. She wasn't sure why, but somehow she had fallen for a picture in a book—the picture of Hades, god of the underworld no less. It was an innocent mistake, any lovesick human girl could have done it. So why did the god of death himself have to show up on her doorstep and beg her—actually, more like force her—to be his queen? And where were her glasses while all of this was happening? And, uh, was that her mom watching them….? Oh my. This would be one long day.

Scorched

Chapter One: Lost Gods

My name is Breck. It's Irish for freckles, which is a fairly good name for me, but I don't have that many. I'm sixteen, can't drive without seriously injuring nearby objects (such as sidewalks, trees, houses). Oh, yea, I'm also obsessed with ancient gods

I'm not sure why, but the ancient gods have always fascinated me. People thing I'm weird, psychotic even, which seemed a very good reply to questions given by certain suspicious parents in certain doorways of mine. So I had made a shrine to Ptah, in hope that my Carpentry grade would go up. What was the problem?

…..people did that all the time, right? Completely sane behavior.

And yet, I still find the gods of yore a mystery.

Maybe its because they're….lost. Their people have forgotten about them, abandoned and rejected them. How are the gods supposed to feel? Huh?! It was sad, really….I can't help but feel sorry for them….which is probably more than enough to land me in a…special…institute.

So here I was, in the school library like I was every lunch, pouring overbooks of mythology. Although, this day the librarian had finally answered her prayers (and constant, not very subtle barrage of hints) and bought a new book on symbology and ancient gods.

Could the day get any better? No. Just no.

I sighed dreamily after reading a particularily invigorating passage about Gaia and her modern symbolism of the divinity of females, and turned the page.

These two pages were taken up mostly by a long, excited passage explaining Zeus' representation as the desires of men for power, and it wasn't until I was finished that I noticed that there was a second passage tucked away in the lower left corner of the first page.

I frowned, and leaned in closer to read.

"Hades-god of death and lord of the underworld. Symbolic of the oppressed, pushed aside sibling of the famous or powerful, and the darker, deeper and mysterious underside of life."

I blinked. Wow. Short.

And then my eyes caught the picture, and my heart stopped for what seemed like days.

I had seen pictures of Hades plenty of times before, seeing as he was one of the major Greek gods, but never had I seen….this.

The painting was small but eerily realistic. I noticed his eyes first, and they bore into my soul with a dangerous, sexy gleam. Blood red. I tore my own green eyes away and tried to take his face in. I hated to admit it, but….this god was damned sexy. His lips were curved into a half-smile, almost arrogant…but not quite. It was more…dangerous, and knowing. He knew a secret. I frowned. Damn him. I want that secret. Maybe I could steal it from those damned sexy lips….

I slapped myself, to the surprise of several people standing nearby. What was I thinking, imagining those things about a picture, for fuck's sakes! Not that it would be bad….no! Bad! BAD BRECK!

Deciding that I was simply out of it today, I packed up my bags and headed to the counter with my new book and checked it out, just before the lunch bell rang.