“Yes,” she answered breathlessly. Tell him—ask him about the contract, she commanded herself. Demand he free you if he wishes to continue being with you. Instead, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
The corners of his lips turned up, and he brushed his thumb over the bottom of her lip. “I came to say goodbye.”
“What?”
The question came out more demanding than she wanted. What did he mean he was saying goodbye? He chuckled under his breath, and answered, “I must go to Olympia for Council.”
Council for the gods occurred quarterly unless there was a war. If Hades was going, that meant Demeter would be going, too.
“Oh.” She blushed. “How long?”
He shrugged. “If I have anything to say about it, a day and no more.”
“Why wouldn’t you have a say?” she asked.
“It depends on how much Zeus and Poseidon argue.”
She wanted to laugh but, after seeing them at the gala, she got the feeling their arguing wasn’t cute but brutal. Even worse than Zeus or Poseidon, Persephone wondered how her mother would treat the God of the Dead.
She shivered and then met Hades’ gaze, but his eyes had fallen to the magazine. He plucked it from the top of her things and frowned—he frowned deeper after she asked, “Is this why you announced The Halcyon Project at the gala? So people would focus on something other than my assessment of your character?”
“You think I created The Halcyon Project for my reputation?”
She shrugged. “You didn’t want me to continue writing about you. You said so yesterday.”
He stared at her for a moment, clearly frustrated. “I didn’t start The Halcyon Project in hopes that the world would admire me. I started it because of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw truth in what you said. Is that really so hard to believe?”
She couldn’t really answer, and Hades brows drew together tightly.
“My absence will not affect your ability to enter the Underworld. You may come and go as you please.”
She didn’t like how distant he suddenly felt, and he wasn’t even gone yet. She stepped closer to him and tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes.
“Before you go, I was thinking,” she said, and reached for the lapels of his jacket. “I’d like to throw a party in the Underworld...for the souls.”
Hades hands closed over her wrists. His eyes were searching. She wasn’t sure if he would push her away or pull her closer.
“What kind of party?”
“Thanatos tells me souls will reincarnate at the end of the week and that Asphodel is already planning a celebration. I think we should move it to the palace.”
“We?” he asked.
Persephone bit her lip and blushed. “I’m asking you if I can plan a party in the Underworld.”
He just stared at her, so she kept talking.
“Hecate has already agreed to help.”
His brows rose. “Has she?”
“Yes.” Her eyes fell to where her palms now rested, flat on his chest. “She’s thinking we should have a ball.”
He was quiet so long, she thought he must be angry, so she looked up to meet his gaze.
“Are you trying to seduce me so I’ll agree to your ball?” he asked.
“Is it working?”
He chuckled and drew her closer. His arousal was hard against her stomach and she gasped. It was the only answer she required, and still he said against her ear, “It’s working.”
He kissed her thoroughly and released her. “Plan your ball, Lady Persephone.”
“Come home soon, Lord Hades.”
He smiled wickedly before vanishing.
She realized in that moment, she was afraid to say anything about the contract because that might mean disappointment. It might mean the realization that this would never work.
And that would break her.
***
Persephone met Lexa and Sybil for lunch at The Golden Apple. Luckily, with Sybil present, Lexa didn’t ask any questions about the kiss, though it was possible Sybil already knew the details. The girls talked about finals, graduation, the gala and Apollo.
It all started because Lexa asked Sybil, “So, are you and Apollo...?”
“Dating? No,” Sybil said. “But I think he hopes I will agree to be his lover.”
Persephone and Lexa exchanged a look.
“Wait,” Lexa said. “He asked? Like...for permission?”
Sybil seemed amused, and Persephone admired how the oracle could talk about this so easily. “He did, and I told him no.”
“You told Apollo, the God of the Sun, perfection incarnate, no?” Lexa sounded shocked and looked slightly appalled. “Why?”
“Lexa, you can’t ask that!” Persephone chided.
Sybil just smiled and said, “Apollo will not love one person and I do not wish to share.”
Persephone understood why Sybil wouldn’t want to get involved with the god. Apollo had a long list of lovers that spanned divine, semi-divine, and mortal, and, as the God of Light’s list had proven, he never stayed with one person too long.
Conversation lapsed into making plans for the weekend, and once they had decided where they would meet for drinks and dancing, Persephone left for the Underworld.
She watered her garden and found Hecate in her cottage. It was a small home, nestled in a dark meadow, and while it was charming, there was something…foreboding about it. Perhaps it was because of the coloring—the siding was dark grey, the door a dark purple, and ivy crawled up the house, covering the windows and roof.
Inside, it was like she had stepped into a garden filled with night-blooming flowers—thick, purple wisteria hung overhead like clusters of stars in a blackout night while a carpet of white nicotiana covered the ground. A table, chairs, and bed were crafted of soft black wood that looked as if it had grown into the formation of each piece. Orbs rose into the air and it took Persephone a moment to recognize what they really were—lampades, as they were called in the Underworld. They were small and beautiful fairy-like creatures with hair like night, laced with white flowers and silvery skin.
Hecate wasn’t sitting on the bed or at the table, but on the grassy floor. Her legs were folded under her, and her eyes were closed. A lit black candle was in front of her.
“Hecate?” Persephone asked, knocking on the doorframe, but the goddess didn’t stir. She stepped further into the room. “Hecate?”
Still no response. It was like she was asleep.
Persephone bent, and blew out the candle. That’s when Hecate’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, she looked positively wicked, and Persephone suddenly understood the kind of goddess Hecate could become if she was pushed—the kind of goddess that turned Gale the witch into Gale the polecat.
When she recognized Persephone, she smiled.
“Welcome back, my lady,” Hecate said.
“Persephone,” she corrected, and Hecate smiled.
“I’m only trying it out,” she said. “You know, for when you become mistress of the Underworld.”
Persephone blushed fiercely. “You are getting ahead of yourself, Hecate.”
The goddess raised a brow and Persephone rolled her eyes.
“What were you doing?” Persephone asked.
“Oh, just cursing a mortal,” Hecate replied almost cheerfully. The goddess reached for the candle and got to her feet. She put it away and turned to face Persephone.
“Watered your garden already, dear?”
“Yes.”
“Shall we begin?” Hecate asked.
She was quick to get down to business. The goddess directed Persephone to sit on the floor. Persephone hesitated, but after encouragement from Hecate to see if her touch still took life, she knelt to the ground.
When she pressed her hands to the grass, nothing happened.
“Amazing,” Persephone whispered.
Hecate spent the next half hour leading her throug
h a meditation that was supposed to help her visualize and use her power.
“You must practice calling to your magic,” Hecate said.
“How do I do that?”
“Magic is malleable,” she said. “As you call for it, imagine it as clay—mold it into what you desire and then...give it life.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Persephone said, shaking her head.
“It is easy,” Hecate said. “All it takes is belief.”
Persephone wasn’t sure about that, but she tried to do as Hecate instructed. She imagined the life she felt in the wisteria above her as something she could shape and willed the plants to grow larger and more vibrant, but when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed.
Hecate must have noticed her disappointment because she placed a hand on Persephone’s shoulder. “It will take time, but you will master this.”
Persephone smiled at the goddess but felt wilted on the inside. She had no choice but to master this if was going to fulfill her contract with Hades, because, as much as she liked the King of the Underworld, she had no desire to be a prisoner of the Underworld.
Persephone was so lost in thought, she didn’t hear Hecate when she started to talk and had to ask her to repeat herself.
“Thinking of our King?” Hecate asked.
She blushed. “Everyone knows, don’t they?”
“Well, he did carry you through the palace to his bedroom.”
She stared at the grass. She had not intended to have this conversation. Though it pained her to speak the words, she said, “I’m not sure it should have happened.”
“Why ever not?”
“For so many reasons, Hecate.”
The goddess waited.
“The contract for one,” Persephone explained. “And my mother will never let me out of her sight again if she finds out.” Persephone paused. “What if she can see it when she looks at me? What if she knows I’m not the virginal goddess she’s always wanted?”
Hecate chuckled. “No god has the power to determine if you are a virgin.”
“Not a god, but a mother.”
Hecate frowned. “Do you regret sleeping with Hades? Forget your mother and the contract—do you regret it?”
“No,” Persephone answered. “I could never regret him.”
“My dear, you are at war with yourself. It has created darkness within you.”
“Darkness?”
“Anger, fear, resentment,” Hecate said. “If you do not free yourself first, no one else can.”
Persephone knew darkness had always existed within her, and it had deepened over the last few months, rising to the surface when she felt challenged or angry. She thought of how she’d threatened that nymph at The Coffee House, how she’d snapped at her mother, how jealous she’d been of Minthe.
Her mother might claim that the mortal world had done this to her—grew the darkness into something tangible, but Persephone knew otherwise. It had always been there, a dark seed, fueling her dreams and her passions, and Hades had roused it, charmed it, fed it.
Let me coax the darkness from you—I will help you shape it.
And she had let him.
“When did you feel life for the first time?” Hecate asked, curious.
“After Hades and I…” she didn’t need to finish her sentence.
“Hmm.” The Goddess of Magic seemed intrigued. “I think, perhaps, the God of the Dead has created life within you.”
CHAPTER XXII – THE ASCENSION BALL
By Friday, Hades had not returned from Olympia, and Persephone was surprised by how anxious that made her. She knew he planned to be at the Ascension Ball this evening because when she arrived to the Underworld to help decorate, Hecate ushered her into another part of the palace to get ready.
“Lord Hades has sent your gown. It’s beautiful,” she said.
Persephone had no idea Hades planned on sending her a gown.
“May I see it?”
“Later, dear,” she said, opening a set of gilded doors. On the other side was a suite. The space was unlike the rest of the palace. Instead of dark floors and walls, they were marble white and inlaid with gold. The bed was luxurious and covered in fluffy blankets, the floors in soft furs. Overhead, a large chandelier dropped from a dome ceiling.
“These rooms, who are they for?” Persephone asked as she entered, trailing her fingers along the edge of a white vanity.
“The mistress of the Underworld,” Hecate replied.
Persephone let that sink in a little. She knew Hades had created everything in his realm, so adding a suite for a wife must have meant he'd considered having one. She remembered what Hermes had said about Hades wanting a wife at the gala. Did these rooms prove the god had hopes of marrying?
“But...Hades has never had a wife,” Persephone said.
“He has not.”
“So...these rooms have never been occupied?”
“Not that we are aware. Come, let's get you ready.”
Hecate called for her lampades and they set to work. Persephone bathed, and while she reclined in the tub, Hecate's nymphs polished her toes and nails. Once she was dry, they rubbed oils into her skin. They smelled of lavender and vanilla—her favorite scents. When she said as much, Hecate smiled.
“Ah, Lord Hades said you loved them.”
“I don't recall telling Hades my favorite scents.”
“I don't suppose you had to,” she said absently. “He can smell them.”
She directed Persephone to the vanity with a mirror so large, she could see the whole wall on the opposite side of the room. The nymphs took time arranging her hair, piling it atop her head. When they finished, pretty ringlets framed her face, and gold clips glistened in her blonde hair.
“It is beautiful,” Persephone told the lampades. “I love it.”
“Just wait until you see your gown,” Hecate said.
The Goddess of Witchcraft disappeared into the closet and returned with a strip of shimmering gold fabric. Persephone couldn’t tell what it looked like until she slipped it on. The fabric was cool against her skin and when she looked in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. The gown Hades had chosen for her hung on her body like liquid gold. With a plunging neckline, backless design, and thigh high split, it was beautiful, daring, and delicate.
“You are a vision,” Hecate said.
Persephone smiled and flushed, “Thank you, Hecate.”
The Goddess of Witchcraft left to get ready for tonight’s festivities, leaving Persephone alone.
“This is the closest I have ever looked to a goddess,” she said aloud, smoothing her hands over her dress.
The feel of Hades magic gave her pause. It was warm and safe and familiar. She prepared to teleport, since the last time she had felt it, that’s exactly what had happened. This time, however, Hades appeared behind her. She met his dark eyes in the mirror and started to turn, but Hades’ voice rang out.
“Don't move,” he said. “Let me look at you.”
His instructions were more of a request than a command, and she swallowed, barely able to handle the heat his presence ignited inside her. He radiated power and darkness, and her body responded—craved the power, hungered for the heat, yearned for the darkness. She burned to touch him but held his gaze for a breath before he started a slow circle around her.
When he finished, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, welding their bodies together.
“Drop your glamour,” he said.
She hesitated. In truth, her human glamour was her security, and Hades’ command made her want to hold onto it tighter.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I wish to see you,” he said.
It was like her grip tightened on the glamour, but Hades coaxed in a voice that made her melt,
“Let me see you.”
She closed her eyes and released her hold.
Her glamour slipped away like water dripping down her skin, and she
knew when it was completely gone because she felt both unburdened and raw.
“Open your eyes,” Hades encouraged, and when she did, she was in her goddess form.
Everything about her presence had intensified, and she glowed against Hades’ darkness.
“Darling, you are a goddess,” Hades said, and pressed his lips to her neck and along her shoulder. Persephone wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him to her. Their lips crashed together, and when Hades growled, Persephone turned in his arms.
“I have missed you.” He cupped her face, eyes searching.
She wondered what he was looking for.
“I missed you, too.”
The admission made her blush, and Hades smirked, pulling her in for another kiss. His lips brushed hers—once, twice—teasing, before Persephone wrapped her arms around his neck and sealed their lips together. She was ravenous and he tasted rich and smoky, like the whisky he drank. Her hands slipped down his chest. She wanted to touch him, feel his skin against her own, but Hades stopped her with his hands on her wrists, breaking their kiss.
“I am just as eager, my darling,” he said. “But if we do not leave now, I think we shall miss your party.”
She wanted to pout, but she also knew he was right.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand.
When she took it, Hades dropped his glamour. She could watch it all day—the way his magic moved like shadow, peeling off him like smoke, revealing his striking form. His hair fell over his shoulders, and a silver crown made of jagged edges decorated the base of his massive horns. The suit he had been wearing moments ago was replaced by black robes, the edges embroidered in silver.
“Careful, Goddess,” Hades warned in a low growl. “Or we won’t leave this room.”
She shivered and quickly looked away.
Fingers laced, he led her out of the suite and into the hallway. They came to a set of gilded doors. Beyond them she could hear the low rumble of a large crowd. Her anxiety spiked, probably because she had no glamour to protect her. She realized that was silly. She knew these people and they knew her. Still, she felt like an impostor—an impostor goddess, an impostor queen, an impostor lover.
Each of those thoughts hurt worse than the other so she shoved them down deep and entered the ballroom beside Hades.
A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone #1) Page 24