by Amelia Wilde
He pinches one of my nipples in his fingers and twists, pain making me arch back against him. “Do better.”
“I belong to you,” I cry. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good. I won’t leave you again.”
“I want all your summers, Persephone. Every fall and winter and spring until you don’t have anymore left to give.”
“They’re yours,” I scream. “All of them. All of them, I promise. I love you.”
Hades releases me then, but I’m only free for a moment before he pulls me up into his arms and presses his lips to mine. “That’s right,” he says.
24
Persephone
Scarlett meets me at the door to her apartment, wary and quiet, and guilt washes up over my chest. Two days after my return, and I still haven’t set everything to rights. I need to start with Scarlett.
“Hi,” she says. “Is there something you need from me?”
“I brought you some flowers. And I owe you an apology.” She steps back to let me inside her apartment. It’s bright in here, despite being in an actual cave, with a colorful hanging on the wall and a braided rug underneath our feet. The scent of baking hangs in the air and I have a pang of nostalgia for my mother’s bread. Not for her, in particular, but the bread was good. I could order it now, but it wouldn’t be the same as making it ourselves. “Are you all right?”
She gives me a tentative smile. “We didn’t get that far outside the mountain that day before—” Scarlett waves a hand in the air. “The security guy came out after us. He said he’d fight for us to stay.”
“You don’t have to. You have other options.” I press an envelope into her hand. “You have our sincere apology, though. There’s no excuse for the way Hades threw you out.”
Scarlett takes the envelope and laughs. “Are you paying me to stay here?”
“I’m paying you so that you can leave if you want. But I like you,” I admit. It’s strange to admit something like that. We haven’t had much time to talk. But when I needed something, Scarlett helped me. That’s a good basis for friendship, I think. “And I think if you stayed, we could be friends.”
She covers her mouth with her hands. “You don’t need friends. You’re—” A shake of her head. “You’re in charge of everything.”
“I’m definitely not,” I insist. “I just got here. And if I’m going to stay, I can’t just...you know. Stay in my bedroom all the time.”
“Is that what you do up there?” A conspiratorial light fills her eyes. “Stay in the bedroom?”
I draw myself up and try to wipe the smile off my face. I’m in love with the most dangerous man on the mountain, who also happens to be the most dangerous man in the world. And all I want to do is go to bed with him. “I’m down here with you right now, am I not?”
“You are,” she says. “I think we’ll stay.”
Jill comes out of the back bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Her face is pink from sleep and affection squeezes at my heart. I could have a daughter one day. And if I did have a daughter, then I would try to be a good mom. Like Scarlett is. Jill comes to Scarlett and the two of them go to the sofa, folding themselves up in it. Scarlett smiles at me over Jill’s head. “Thank you,” she says. “For the money. And for visiting.”
“I’ll come again another time.” I wave to both of them and go out, shutting the door quietly behind me.
And then it’s time to practice.
I have been practicing most of the morning. Names and faces. Families and dreams. Now is the test. My pulse flutters in my neck. It’s still strange, being near this many people. I know it’s not actually a huge crowd but it seems like it. And it’s not an illusion that they all notice me when I walk by.
From here to the door, I need to talk to five different people and remember their names. This is a more difficult task with my bottom sore from Hades’ latest reminder that I am completely forbidden to go outside the mountain without him. I think he’s making plans to go somewhere else, but he won’t say. Before we do that, I have flowers to grow. Stolen seeds, stolen flowers. Maybe that makes me a thief. But my mother stole years of my life, so I’d say we’re even.
It turns out to be ten people. Jacob’s been promoted at the factory floor. While I’m talking to him about it, more people join him, and I find out about someone’s new apartment and a near-miss in the mines and also Mirabelle is pregnant again.
Pregnant. I congratulate her on it while trying to do some math in my head. Math has never been my strong suit, but it’s been long enough since I got to the mountain.
It’s been long enough.
Have I gotten my period?
But I’m not quite ready to face that yet. Not today, anyway. No more new discoveries for now. There will be time later for all that. There’s a joke in there somewhere about planting seeds. What is it my mother used to say? Life finds a way. Or maybe she never said that, and it’s just true. It has to be, because I’ve found a way. And if it’s a dangerous one, then so what? Danger has always lurked in my house. At least now I can bring it to its knees and beg it for more.
A new idea pops into my mind. One involving diamonds. This time, I want to be the one who gives Hades a gift. There’s a man who works on the factory floor who can help me.
Who will help me, because I won’t approach him like a nervous little girl. I’m more than that now. I’m more than that forever. I think I’ll prove it.
25
Hades
I hear Poseidon before I see him, his huge voice echoing in the hall outside my office. My real office, the one that looks out over the factory floor, where I have come because I can’t work if Persephone is next to me. I can’t work because she is too tempting. There’s something different about her and I don’t know what it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her brush with death. Whatever the reason, it’s made her bold and free in a way that I didn’t expect. She’s bolder with me, challenging me, and there’s pleasure in denying her what she wants.
Great pleasure.
But now my brother has come to visit, so I put down my pen and stand up. He enters the room a minute later, Conor rushing to put himself between the two of us and Poseidon cursing out the door at Oliver. Poseidon shuts the door in Oliver’s face. “You owe me.”
“I don’t. Conor, sit.”
Conor slinks back to his spot by my desk with a low growl. He’s such a good dog. He knows when there’s a dangerous motherfucker in the room. Other than me, obviously. Poseidon watches him until he’s all the way on the floor, then turns his attention back to me. He’s windblown and slightly damp, like some other ship chased him here across open water. I don’t know if I believe that’s possible. Poseidon is the one who does the chasing. And the pirating, and the pillaging, and then he dresses himself up in a nice suit and no one is the wiser. Either that or they’re too intimidated to mention anything. I’m not intimidated.
“You do. I provided more men and more supplies than you asked for, and you’re going to pay me for it.”
Ah—this is his next move, and an old trick of his. We made a deal. I held up my end of the bargain; now he wants more from me. He’d bleed me dry if I let him. “I promise you, I’m not.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Now we’ve reached the threats. Predictable. It must be all these years as a goddamn modern day pirate. Or maybe he became a pirate because he wanted to make threats.
“Did you sail all the way here just to pick a fight with me? I thought we were done with each other. Or is it just that you couldn’t stand to be away from me? It’s a common feeling, Poseidon. No need to be ashamed. We’re brothers, after all.”
His face darkens. “You’re not going to fuck me over on this.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Do you need a drink?”
It reminds me of Persephone, clenching her teeth and pouring drinks for us in that den. I’d like to destroy that room, when I have a spare moment. I hated what happened there. I hate it still. But she’s making it difficult to foc
us on hate at the moment. I go over to the bottles in the wall and pour Poseidon something expensive and bitter, then shove it into his hand.
He looks like he wants to bluster and rage like a storm, but something makes him sit back. His expression is almost thoughtful. “What makes you think you’re done with all of us?”
“All of who?”
“Me. Zeus. Demeter. He sent me a message, you know. He told me what happened.”
“Did he tell you how stupid he looked when I almost crushed his skull?”
Poseidon lifts tumbler in a mock toast. “He told me he hasn’t forgiven you for it.”
I sit down on the edge of my desk and watch him while he drinks. Poseidon has something on his mind, that much is obvious. But it’s not a problem for me. There are few problems left, now that Persephone is home. They all seem so small in comparison. “Did you come here to warn me or threaten me? Because if you’re making threats, then I’m happy to oblige by beating the shit out of you.”
“Both, asshole,” says Poseidon.
“Fuck off.”
Conor perks up his head at my tone and I wave him back down. Poseidon is large enough that, if provoked, he could do Conor damage, and fuck if I’m going to stand here and watch that.
“Pay me.”
“No, I meant it. I paid you in full for the deal we made.” I pick up a pen from the holder on my desk, this one harder, more sturdy. “Now fuck off. Into the sea, since that’s the place you like best. I’d do it quickly, if I were you.”
“One of us is going to kill you.”
“Honestly, Poseidon, I might actually welcome that if I thought either of you could do the job properly. Now get the fuck out of my office before I have Oliver drag you out.”
He curls his lips. “That man couldn’t drag me anywhere.”
“Then I’ll have him shoot you. It makes no difference to me.”
Poseidon throws his glass into one of my big windows. The window holds. The glass shatters. And then he stalks out of the room.
There might have been a time when I’d have been worried. That I’d have stayed up nights wondering if Poseidon was lying or not and snapping at Oliver. But the old worry doesn’t return. Yes, I’d love to kill him. It would take a certain weight off my mind. It won’t be necessary to protect the mountain, however. It wasn’t only my strength that kept the people here safe. It was Perspehone’s, too.
Down on the factory floor, everything is in order. People work hard at their worktables, heads bent, careful not to attract any attention.
Which is why it’s so easy to spot her.
Persephone wants to be seen. She’s been wearing colors the last two days, bright, unapologetic colors, and I have to admit that I like watching those colors tear when I rip her clothes off at night. Or during the day. It doesn’t matter.
She walks proudly down the side of the factory in a dress the color of red apples, head held high, giving a little wave here and there to people she recognizes. My heart catches behind my breastbone. In a mountain full of treasures she’s the most beautiful one, and the most priceless.
Then she turns into the doors leading to the alcove where my master jeweler does his work.
I didn’t know she had any interest in it, other than the pieces I’ve given her. She’s still a woman of the grass and field and flower at her core. Or perhaps she isn’t. There are other things to learn about her, it seems. I feel that gangplank starting to give way beneath my feet again and steady myself against the window.
That’s not happening. It’s not happening now, and it won’t ever happen, because I will keep my feet on solid ground. I’ve finally found it. I won’t let it go.
26
Hades
Things come up, the way they always do when the mountain is alive.
Zeus restarted the trains, but the schedule has shifted. I spend an hour shifting it back. There are new orders to fill. Demeter’s absence has left a hole in our supply chain, but she’ll be back, I have no doubt. Now that getting Persephone back is no longer on the table she’ll have to find some other way to entertain herself. It’s sure to be highly interesting and highly lethal. You never know with desperate people.
I’m desperate for Persephone by the time the evening comes and finally I tell Oliver that he needs to manage things and leave the office.
There’s not much evidence of Zeus’ attack between the office and my rooms, but it is there. Some of the doors took damage when the workers were up here. They startled and rushed them at one point, so Oliver tells me. Persephone wasn’t there in time to offer any calming words. At least the factory floor was set to rights first of all.
Soon there will be no reminders that he was ever here.
Unless he visits again.
I don’t think he will, though Poseidon thinks otherwise.
It’s not a topic for tonight’s conversation.
The lights get dimmer the farther I go into my space, the pain of the day slowly loosening its grip. Persephone showed me the seeds she got, and the list of instructions from Demeter. She’s growing the flowers now. In the meantime, I use her. As frequently as I want to. My cock stirs at the thought of doing it again in a few minutes.
Conor sniffs around in the hall, looking for anything out of place, but he finds nothing. I have a new habit of watching him closely as we approach my rooms. He’s on edge if Persephone is not inside. She’ll always be inside from now on, or at least on the mountain, if she’s learned her lesson.
At the last set of double doors Conor turns and goes into my office, curling up on his bed by the fire. It’s been an exhausting day of defending me from Poseidon and all the factory lights. He’s earned his rest.
I go through into the bedroom to find one final pool of light in front of the window.
Moonlight.
Persephone is kneeling in it, completely naked. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in waves that catch the light, too, and something dark rests in the palms of her hands. How am I supposed to keep breathing, when she’s this fucking gorgeous?
I’m instantly hard, tensed and ready and throbbing. It hurts, how much I need to be inside her pliant body. Her face is in shadow but I can tell from the angle of her chin that she’s looking at the floor. Her shoulders rise and fall with each breath. The dusky shadows of her nipples tell the story of her waiting here, for me.
I go to her and put a hand under her chin, tipping her face slowly back so that her neck is exposed and her eyes meet mine. She rises with my hand until she’s up on her knees, legs spread for easy access. It’s fucking breathtaking. Her lips part under the pad of my thumb and I test her teeth, her tongue. Yes. I will use her tonight, and it will carry me through the whole day tomorrow. “You’re waiting so well,” I tell her. “Is there a reason?”
“Because I belong to you.” She knows I like this, knows what it does to me to hear it. “And I brought something else.”
“What?”
She lifts her hands and shows me the shadowy thing I saw there before—a jewelry box. I angle it into the light and open it. Two diamonds glitter at the center of the velvets. Neat, matching clamps. Perfect for her nipples.
“For you,” she says, voice soft and needy.
“Up on the bed.”
Persephone hurries to obey me, staying on her hands and knees. The first time I made her do it she was so mortified. Now she is still mortified, but she lets it burn over her skin. She withstands it. Persephone kneels at the edge of the bed in the same position she was in before.
“I think I’ll use these now.” I pull one out and drop the box next to her knee. She’s been thinking about this, the little slut. Her nipples are ready and waiting. Persephone keeps her hands at her sides and lets me put the first clamp on.
It hurts.
The hiss she makes, letting her head fall back, is fucking delicious, and I add my mouth to the top, letting my tongue lap against the diamond and her flesh. This earns me a desperate whimper.
I
add the other clamp and she falls back, her bottom meeting her heels, and I pull her upright again so I can lash her other nipple with my tongue. “It’s so bad,” she gasps. “It’s so good.”
“Pain and pleasure are always better when they’re mixed, don’t you think?” Her hands reach up to try and take the clamps off and I pin them behind her back a second time. “Touch them, and I’ll tie you down. Stay here. Don’t move.”
I go into the walk-in closet and strip off my clothes, the day falling away along with them. Persephone’s crown is on a shelf above her clothes. Back by the bed I stand in front of her while she pants with the intensity of the clamps and the order and crown her again, the diamonds winking in her hair. “Are you ready to be a good little queen?”
Her lips part. If it were brighter in here, I would be able to see the pink in her cheeks and the flush of her breasts, the way that red goes all the way down to her belly and between her legs. But I don’t need the light. She’s enough light all by herself.
“I’m ready to be your queen,” she breathes.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yes.” Her eyes flutter closed and her head falls back, but I twist my fingers through her hair and make her open her eyes again. It’s hard for her to hold her hands behind her back. She manages it anyway.
“Do you like it?”
Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. “I need it,” she whispers. “I’m a little slut for it.”
“That’s right.”
And then, because she is mine, I take the liberty of fisting her hair until she whimpers. I turn her, tortuously slow, to face away from me and shove her face into the blankets. I knock her legs apart and spread her open, and then I lick her while she begs for me to take the clamps off. It’s all a ruse. She doesn’t want them off. She wants more. I can tell, because when I lick her again she rolls her hips, already trembling, already on the edge. I nudge myself to her opening and take a breath. Every touch is a lesson, a reminder that she is now and always will belong to me in every possible way. She’s mine.