Death Knocks on Hell’s Door Chapter 32

Chapter 32 Nature

The howling wind lashed against the windows as torrential rain poured over the withering flowers on the windowsill. The delicate white roses trembled under the relentless storm, their petals slowly scattering across the ground beneath the trees.

Yet the most beautiful rose remained shielded from the wind and rain, blooming in quiet splendor, radiant and unblemished.

The sound of the storm outside muffled the noises within. Separated by a window, the rain outside sounded much softer, with occasional thunder rumbling and striking against a wildly beating heart.

Adonis’ slender fingers held a pristine white rose, his touch gentle as he traced along its stem and leaves, his fingertips caressing the delicate petals with slow, deliberate motions. The flower quivered in his grasp, bending under his touch, only to be forced open again.

“Be good.”

Adonis’ voice, though gentle, carried a tone of unquestionable authority, as if he were born to be domineering.

The white rose could only obediently unfurl its petals under his will, offering itself for his taking.

On his way here, Adonis had plucked a white rose, cradling it carefully in his arm, shielding it from even the slightest touch of wind or rain.

But the one inside, one he had cherished far longer, was met with far less mercy now.

Venus vaguely remembered the day of his birth, a storm-ridden night just like this. He had drifted upon the sea, tossed by the rhythm of the waves, his body completely beyond his control, just as it was now.

He dazedly thought that the wind and rain outside seemed to have fallen upon him.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. For an instant, the room was bathed in a light as bright as day. In that fleeting moment, Venus thought he saw something different in the eyes above him, not the radiant gold of Adonis, but a deep ocean blue.

Like the pair of eyes he saw when he was first born and almost fell into the water before being lifted from the sea by a god.

Venus’ entire body went rigid.

The lightning vanished in a blink, plunging the room back into darkness. A cold sweat broke out across his skin, his heart hammering even faster.

Had he imagined it?

But before he could think any further, Adonis’ lips covered his.

And so, he stopped thinking altogether.

By morning, the forest air carried the fresh scent of rain. Droplets of water clung to the roses on the windowsill, and a golden beam of sunlight streamed in through the open window.

Venus stirred in the gentle morning light, his drowsy eyes fluttering open, only to see Adonis seated by the window, his striking profile bathed in the sun.

His gaze was lowered, half his face illuminated by the golden light, as if frozen in time.

In that moment, only two words came to Venus’s mind.

Halcyon days.

After spending so much time around Adonis, Venus thought that he had become a cultured god now.

“Adonis.” Venus sat up, and in the blink of an eye, his clothes were changed. “Did I oversleep?”

Adonis turned his head. “I just woke up too early.”

Venus happily hugged him from behind. “I’m an adult now. That means I can come down the mountain to see you whenever I want.”

Adonis smiled. “Didn’t you always come down the mountain anyway?”

“That was different. Before, I had to sneak out. Now I can come openly. I can visit you every single day.”

Every single day……

Adonis thought of the barrier beneath the sea, the one that required his constant vigilance. He had been gone for just one night, but who knew how many new cracks had formed in his absence?

He could not come every day.

Adonis glanced back at Venus, then turned fully to face him. Reaching out, he gently adjusted Venus’s clothes.

Venus blinked in surprise. Lowering his head, he tugged at his collar and glanced at his shoulder. Only then did he realize that in his haste, he hadn’t dressed properly. The clothes that Adonis had pulled up perfectly concealed the faint mark on his shoulder.

Adonis was a gentle lover, even in bed. At the very least, Venus’ first experience had been nothing short of delightful.

As the God of Pleasure, Venus had always held an open attitude toward sex. In his eyes, this matter was as normal as mortals needing to eat and drink, a fundamental part of his very being.

He did not hesitate to offer his praise. “Adonis, you’re amazing at everything! Hunting, storytelling, and even in bed.”

Adonis laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his rose.

He truly had grown up overnight.

Venus had no idea how irresistible he looked at that moment. The white rose that has tasted love and desire was graceful and blooming gorgeously.

A breathtaking face, a body coming into its own, a candid embrace of passion, and a heart still untouched by the weight of the world.

Few beings could resist such temptation.

Not even the dead.

They lingered in the treehouse for a while longer, savoring the last traces of warmth, before Venus reluctantly bid him farewell and returned to Olympus.

Lately, the gods of Olympus had placed a wager.

Who, in the end, had plucked the first bloom of their sacred white rose Venus, the God of Beauty?

The gods had been curious about this question for two hundred years. At long last, the answer was about to be revealed.

At his coming-of-age ceremony, the God of Beauty had awakened his nature as the God of Pleasure. Just as Apollo, the God of Light, would never tell a lie; as Ares, the God of War, would never embrace peace; and as Themis, the Goddess of Justice, would never stand on the side of injustice, Venus, the God of Pleasure, would never practice abstinence.

And, of course, the God of Love would never have just one lover. He would never understand the concept of fidelity. Then again, hardly any Olympian did.

In truth, this was a good thing. It meant that anyone on Olympus had a chance to share a night with their breathtakingly beautiful god. But the first was special. Everyone wanted to be the first.

The frontrunners were Hephaestus, the God of Fire; Dionysus, the God of Wine; Hermes, the Messenger God; and Ares, the God of War. But the other gods were unwilling to admit defeat. What if it was them? In a desperate bid for luck, they flocked to the palace of the Goddess of Luck, begging her to bless them with the favor of Venus.

The Goddess of Luck shut her doors and refused to see anyone. She admitted that she, too, would love a blissful night with the God of Beauty, but even she could not will such a thing into existence.

So, in the end, it had to be one of the four.

Or so they thought.

What the gods did not know was that Venus had already given himself to a mere mortal.

They waited and waited, yet no rumors emerged of Venus taking a lover among the gods. Strangely enough, he seemed utterly disinterested in pleasure. Instead, he spent his days running down the mountain, claiming that life on Olympus had grown dull and that the sights of the mortal world had captivated him.

It appeared that, to Venus, love and pleasure were not nearly as alluring as the world below.

The gods were dumbfounded.

There was no way the God of Love, newly come of age, could still be this pure. It was completely against his nature.

The first to lose patience was Ares.

Many gods desired Venus, but only the brash and reckless God of War had the audacity to speak without restraint, confronting Venus directly.

Ares had never been one for subtlety. He intercepted Venus on his way down the mountain, blocking his path.

Venus halted, blinking in confusion. “Ares? Do you need something?” He was in a hurry to see Adonis.

Ares fixed his gaze on him. “Venus, I want to be your lover.”

Which, in plain terms, meant I want to sleep with you.

Greek gods rarely spoke of true love. Most of their affairs were purely physical, so there was no need for pretense.

Ares freely admitted that Venus’ allure far surpassed that of any past lover. He had waited two hundred years for this. He was done waiting.

Venus blinked. “Oh.”

Then he stepped around Ares and continued down the mountain.

Ares, caught off guard, quickly moved to block his way again. “What does ‘oh’ mean? Are you saying yes?”

Venus didn’t even slow his pace. “I’m saying no.”

He was very willing, but he couldn’t agree.

Ares didn’t understand. He strode after him, demanding, “Why not?”

He had made such an offer to the God of Love and Pleasure, and was actually refused? Why? Was his charm not enough?

Venus, after being stopped again and again, grew visibly annoyed. “There is no ‘why.’ If you block my way again, I’ll be angry.”

Ares then reluctantly gave way. He couldn’t understand what Venus was in such a hurry for. Could the sights below the mountain truly be more captivating than he was?

The answer was yes.

Because Adonis was down there.

Love and pleasure were Venus’ divine duty and nature. To him, it didn’t matter with whom such acts were done. Just like a person who loved food, as long as the food was delicious, it didn’t matter who made it.

For Venus, as long as the partner was skilled, pleasant to look at, and capable of giving him an enjoyable experience, nothing else really mattered.

Ares’ invitation was one he could have easily accepted. Who would ever turn down more good food? The more, the better. And Venus was willing.

But then he thought of Adonis.

Of course, Venus could never be celibate. His desires had been fulfilled by Adonis ever since his coming-of-age.

By now, he knew perfectly well that Adonis was not a mere mortal. Every time he descended the mountain, he still blew the conch shell. Otherwise, that treehouse would have been empty. But he had never confronted Adonis about it.

Venus didn’t think Adonis’ identity mattered all that much. As long as Adonis was with him, that was enough.

Their relationship hadn’t changed much since Venus came of age. They still played as they always had, kissed as they always had — only now, it always ended in bed.

One time, in the midst of it, Adonis suddenly asked, “Venus, if someone else wanted to do this with you, would you agree?”

Venus answered instinctively, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Adonis stilled.

Venus let out a small, startled gasp. “……Adonis?” He had stopped at a time like this!

“Why?” Adonis’s half-lowered eyes darkened briefly before the shadow was replaced by sorrow. “You say you love me. Was that a lie?”

“Of course I love you! I love you the most, Adonis.” Venus was flustered. “But love and lust aren’t the same thing.”

Both were part of his divine nature, and he could separate them perfectly. He loved Adonis, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share intimacy with others.

Adonis held his gaze. “If you were with someone else, I would be heartbroken. I would be jealous, I would be consumed by envy.” His voice was quiet, but firm. “Even knowing that, would you still do it?”

Venus hesitated. He didn’t understand. “Why would you be heartbroken?” Jealousy? Envy? What did that even feel like?

Adonis asked in return, “If I did this with someone else, how would you feel?”

“I wouldn’t feel anything. You can be with anyone to satisfy your lust.” Venus spoke with perfect honesty. “As long as you love me, that’s all that matters.”

Adonis: “……”

He said nothing more. Instead, he resumed what he had been doing, but this time, with a vengeance.

Adonis was always gentle, yet that night, he was unusually fierce. He didn’t utter a single harsh word, but his actions spoke for him. He carried Venus from the softness of the bed to the hard surface of the desk, threw open the window to let the cold night air pour in, and made his displeasure known without saying a word.

But Venus, ever true to his own desires, only found it exhilarating. When it was over, he cheerfully remarked that it felt better and more exciting this way. He even suggested they do it again, perhaps even outdoors next time.

Adonis pressed a hand to his forehead with a sigh, as if he truly had no way to deal with him.

Even now, Venus still didn’t understand why Adonis would be hurt if he slept with others.

But while he couldn’t comprehend Adonis’ sorrow, he could understand that he didn’t want to make him sad.

And so, he had refused Ares’ request.

In the treehouse, Venus sat on the bed, animatedly recounting the latest happenings on Olympus.

Adonis stood at the desk, listening in quiet patience while tending to the white roses on the windowsill. The sharp snip of his shears echoed through the room as he carefully trimmed each branch, shaping them precisely to his liking.

“Adonis,” Venus said suddenly, his tone light, as if making casual conversation. “Ares told me he wants to be my lover.”

He always shared every trivial detail of his life on the mountain with Adonis, and this was no different. In Venus’ mind, it was hardly a significant matter, no more important than someone inviting him to try a new dish.

Adonis’ scissors paused mid-air. His voice remained calm. “Did you agree?”

If Venus answered poorly, the next thing those shears would cut wouldn’t be the rose stems. It would be the golden strands of the God of Beauty himself.

Adonis could never bring himself to harm Venus. Even his warnings were gentle. Otherwise, given the King of the Sea’s notorious temper, the blade would have found its way into a heart instead.

Venus shook his head. “I refused.”

Adonis’ tense expression eased. As if nothing had happened, he resumed trimming the white roses. “Why did you refuse?”

Venus tilted his head. “Didn’t you say it would make you sad?”

Adonis paused again.

A moment later, he set the shears down on the desk and turned to face Venus fully. “Was it because you care about my feelings?”

Venus wrapped his arms around Adonis’ waist. “How could I not care about you?”

Adonis lowered his head, running his fingers through Venus’ golden hair. “Then are you willing to have only me as your lover for the rest of your life?”

Venus thought about it seriously for a long time before finally answering, tactfully, “Adonis, I don’t want to lie to you.”

It was like asking a foodie to eat only one dish for the rest of their life. No matter how delicious, they would eventually grow tired of it. Right now, he was utterly addicted to this particular dish. Perhaps he would always love it the most. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t taste other flavors.

His logic was simple. Perfectly reasonable in his eyes. But to others, it was the clearest kind of callousness.

“……”

“I understand.” Adonis closed his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

Justice was the nature of Themis. Flirtation was the nature of Venus. Venus and Zeus were alike in that way. The difference was that Zeus ruled the sky and thunder, and being amorous was his personality. But Venus ruled love and pleasure. Being amorous was his divine nature as well. And divinity ran deeper than personality. It was far harder to change.

Venus could not promise loyalty. Asking him to remain faithful was like asking the Goddess of Justice to stand on the side of evil.

All he could do was tell the truth. He loved Adonis. But he could not yet defy his own nature.

Adonis had always told him stories of those who rebelled against the heaven. In the stories, the heroes defied the heaven with ease. But when it came time to do it in reality, Venus found that it was harder than ascending to the skies.

No, it was harder than that.

If reaching the heaven was difficult, how impossible, then, was defying it?

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