A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone Book 2)

by Scarlett St. Clair

  Is this what it was like to come before Hades, King of the Underworld—judge and

  punisher?

  “Fucking Furies,” Apollo said as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. Persephone glanced at the god, who now spotted Hades. “You know you could upgrade to something a little

  more modern to enforce natural order, Hades. I’d rather be carried off by a well-muscled man than a trio of albino goddesses and a serpent.”

  “I thought we had a deal, Apollo,” Hades gritted out.

  Persephone marveled at how her lover could appear so calm, and yet infuse his voice with a quiet fury. She felt it in the air, and it settled on her skin, drawing goosebumps to the surface.

  “You mean the deal where I stay away from your goddess in exchange for a favor?”

  Hades said nothing. Apollo knew the deal.

  “I’d have been more than obliging, except your little lover showed up at Erotas demanding my help. While I was in the middle of a bath, I should add.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Persephone hissed.

  “She can be very persuasive when she’s angry,” he continued, ignoring her. “The magic helped.”

  Apollo didn’t even need to say the last part, Hades knew what it meant when she got angry—loss of control.

  “You never said she was a goddess. No wonder you snatched her up quickly.”

  Why does everyone say that, she wondered?

  “I could hardly deny her request when she had razor-sharp thorns pointed at my nether-regions.”

  Persephone wanted to vomit, but she glanced at Hades and noted that despite the anger clouding his face, he seemed a little proud.

  “So, we struck a deal. A bargain, as you like to call it.”

  Hades eyes darkened.

  “She asked me to heal her little friend, and in exchange, she provides me with...companionship.”

  “Don’t make it sound gross, Apollo.”

  “Gross?”

  “Everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like a sexual innuendo.”

  “Does not!”

  “Does too.”

  “Enough!” Hades voice cracked like a whip, and when Persephone looked at him, she saw fire in his eyes. Though he addressed Apollo, his gaze didn’t leave her, and she felt it tear

  away all her layers, exposing the raw and real fear she felt beneath. “If you are no longer

  in need of my goddess, I would like a word with her. Alone.”

  “She’s all yours,” Apollo said, who had the good sense to evaporate and say nothing else.

  Persephone stood still, staring at Hades. The silence on the floor of Nevernight was tangible. It set heavy on her shoulders and pressed against her ears, and when his voice erupted, burning away the quiet, it promised pain—she could already feel her heart

  breaking.

  “What have you done?”

  “I saved Lexa.”

  “Is that what you think?” He seethed. She could see tendrils of his glamour coming off him like smoke. She’d never seen him lose control of his magic.

  “She was going to die—”

  “She was choosing to die!” Hades snarled, he advanced upon her. His glamour fell away, and he stood before her, stripped of his mortal form. He seemed to fill the room, an inferno,

  spreading his heat, his anger billowing, eyes inflamed. “And instead of honoring her wish,

  you intervened. All because you are afraid of pain.”

  “I am afraid of pain,” she snapped. “Will you mock me for that as you mock all mortals?”

  “There is no comparison. At least mortals are brave enough to face it.”

  She flinched, and her anger ignited, a searing pain erupted from all over as thorns sprouted from her skin.

  “Persephone.”

  He reached for her, but she stepped away, the movement was painful, and she inhaled between her teeth.

  “If you cared, you would have been there!”

  “I was there!”

  “You never once came with me to the hospital when I had to watch my best friend lie unresponsive. You never once stood by me while I held her hand. You could have told me when Thanatos would start showing up. You could have let me know she was...choosing to die. But you didn’t. You hide all of that, like it was some fucking secret. You weren’t there.”

  For the first time since she was dumped in front of him by the Furies, he looked shocked and sounded a little lost when he said, “I didn’t know you wanted me there.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, and there was a twist in her voice, a note of her sadness she couldn’t hide.

  “I’m not the most welcomed sight at a hospital, Persephone.”

  “That’s your excuse?”

  “And what’s yours?” he asked. “You never told me—”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you to be there for me when my friend is dying. Instead, you act like it’s as...normal as breathing.”

  “Because death has forever been my existence,” he snapped, growing more and more frustrated.

  “That’s your problem. You’ve been the God of the Underworld so long, you’ve forgotten what it is really like to be on the brink of losing someone. Instead you spend all your time judging mortals for their fear of your realm, for their fear of death, for their fear of losing who they love!”

  She was a little shocked by the words coming out of her mouth. To be truthful, she hadn’t realized how angry she’d been until this very moment.

  “So you were angry with me,” he said. “And once again, instead of coming to me, you decided to punish me by seeking Apollo’s help.” He spat the god’s name; his hatred evident.

  “I wasn’t trying to punish you. When I decided to go to Apollo, I no longer felt like you were an option.”

  Hades eyes narrowed. “After everything I did to protect you from him—”

  “I didn’t ask that of you,” she snapped.

  “No, I suppose you didn’t. You have never welcomed my aid, especially when it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.” He sounded so bitter, she flinched.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? I have offered an Aegis, and you insisted you do not need a guard, yet you are regularly accosted on your way to work. You barely accept rides from Antoni, and you only do now because you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Then, when I offer comfort, when I try to understand your hurt over Lexa’s pain, it isn’t enough.”

  “Your comfort?” she exploded. “What comfort? When I came to you, begging you to save Lexa, you offered to let me grieve. What was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch her die when I knew I could prevent it?”

  “Yes,” Hades hissed. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. You are not above the law of my realm, Persephone!”

  Clearly not. The Fates had come after her.

  “I don’t see why her death matters. You come to the Underworld every day. You would have seen Lexa again!”

  “Because it’s not the same,” she snapped.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She glared at him; arms crossed tight over her chest. How was she supposed to explain this? Lexa was her first friend, her closest friend, and just when she thought she had her life in order, she met Hades who threw it all out of orbit. Lexa was the only anchor to her old life and now Hades wanted to take her, too?

  Which led to the real problem and it hurt to say, because she was admitting her greatest fear.

  “What happens if you and I,” she paused, unable to say the words. “If the Fates decide to unravel our future? I don’t want to be so lost in you, so anchored in the Underworld, that I don’t know how to exist after.”

  Hades eyes narrowed, but when he spoke, his voice was desolate. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you don’t want to be in this relationship.”

  Those words made her chest feel as if it were caving in. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then what are you saying?”


  She shrugged, and for the first time, she felt tears building behind her eyes. “I don’t know. Just that...right when I was really starting to figure out who I was, you came along and fucked it all up. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be. I don’t know—”

  “What you want,” he said.

  “That’s not true,” she said. “I want you. I love—”

  “Don’t say you love me,” he interrupted her again. “I can’t...hear that right now.”

  The silence that followed made her feel even more hopeless. Her face felt wet, and she touched her cheek, wiping away the tears.

  “I thought you loved me,” she whispered.

  “I do,” he said, staring at the floor. “But I think I may have misunderstood.”

  “Misunderstood what?”

  “The Fates,” he said bitterly. “I have waited for you so long, I ignored the fact that they rarely weave happy endings.”

  “You cannot mean that,” she said.

  “I mean it. You’ll find out why soon enough.”

  Hades restored his glamour and straightened his tie; his eyes void of emotion. How could he recover so quickly when she felt like her insides were destroyed? Then, as if he hadn’t already torn a hole through her heart, his parting words reached her—ice cold and haunting.

  “You should know that your actions have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death.”

  CHAPTER XIX - GODDESS OF SPRING

  Alone, Persephone collapsed in tears. As she hit the floor, the thorns bursting from her skin were jarred and she cried out in pain.

  “Oh, my love,” Persephone felt Hecate’s hand on her back. She didn’t look at the goddess, sobbing into her blood-covered hands.

  “I messed up, Hecate.”

  “Shh,” the goddess soothed. “Come, on your feet.”

  Hecate lifted Persephone, careful to avoid touching the thorns sprouting from her body and teleported to her cabin. She sat Persephone down, placed her hands over the thorns that had broken her skin, and began to chant. Warmth emanated from her palms. Persephone watched as the barbs began to grow smaller until nothing of the malady was visible. When the wounds were healed, Hecate cleaned the blood away and sat down opposite Persephone.

  “What happened?”

  Persephone burst into tears again, guilt and agony warring in her mind. She told Hecate everything—the conversation she’d overheard about taking Lexa off life support, her mother’s visit, and her trek to the Pleasure District.

  “When it came down to losing her...I couldn’t.” She choked on a sob. Hecate reached out and covered Persephone’s hand with hers. “And my mother just made it all worse. There may not be consequences for gods but there are consequences for me.”

  “There are always consequences. The difference between you and other gods, is that you care about them.”

  Persephone was silent for a moment and then repeated what Hades had told her. “I have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death," she paused. "I just wanted her with me.”

  “Why do you hold onto the mortal realm?”

  Persephone looked at Hecate. "Because it is where I belong.”

  “Is it?" she asked. "What about the Underworld?”

  When Persephone didn’t respond, Hecate shook her head.

  “My dear, you are trying to be someone you’re not.”

  “What do you mean? All I have been trying to do is be myself.”

  And that had been more difficult than she could ever imagine.

  “Are you?” she asked. “Because the person who sits before me now does not match the one I see beneath.”

  “And who do you see beneath?” she asked, her voice verging on sarcasm.

  “The Goddess of Spring,” she answered. “Future Queen of the Underworld, wife of Hades.”

  Those words made her shiver.

  “You are holding onto a life that no longer serves you. A job that punishes you for your relationships, a friendship that could have blossomed in the Underworld, a mother who has taught you to be a prisoner.”

  Persephone bristled at those words.

  “And if you need any more evidence that you are denying yourself, look no further than the way your magic is manifesting. If you do not learn to love yourself, your powers will tear you apart.”

  Persephone’s brows knitted together. “What are you saying, Hecate? That I should abandoned my life in the Upperworld?”

  She shook her head. “You think in extremes,” Hecate said. “You are either a goddess or a mortal, you either live in the Underworld or the Upperworld. Do you not want it all, Persephone?”

  “Yes,” she said, frustrated. “Of course, I want it all, but everyone keeps telling me I can’t!”

  A slow smile crept across Hecate’s face. “Create the life you want, Persephone, and stop listening to everyone else.”

  Persephone blinked, absorbing Hecate’s words.

  Create the life you want.

  Up until this point, she thought she knew what kind of life she wanted, but what she was realizing now, is that things had changed since meeting Hades. Despite her struggle to accept herself and understand her power, he had shifted something inside her. With him came new desires, new hopes, new dreams and there was no way to attain those without letting go of old ones.

  She swallowed hard, her eyes watering.

  “I messed up, Hecate,” she said.

  “As we all do,” the goddess replied, standing. “And as we all will. Now let’s channel some of that pain and clean up the mess you made in the grove. Consider it practice.”

  Persephone didn’t argue, finding that she was strangely motivated.

  The two left Hecate’s cottage for the grove. Persephone knew when they were close because she could smell rotten fruit—a terrible mix of sugar and decay.

  “The goal is to collect all the dead pieces and make them into ripe pomegranates,” Hecate said.

  “How do I do that?”

  “The same way you destroyed it—except you want to control how much power you use.”

  Persephone wasn’t sure she could, but she remembered the time she spent with Hades and how he taught her to focus her power. That memory made her chest ache in a way she never thought possible.

  Magic is balance—a little control, a little passion. It is the way of the world.

  “Imagine the pomegranate whole, a delicious crimson color.”

  Hecate’s voice faded away as Persephone focused on her task.

  Close your eyes, she heard Hades whisper in her ear, and she obeyed as her breath caught in her throat. She could have sworn she felt the scrape of his cheek against hers.

  He continued to whisper.

  Tell me what you feel.

  Warmth, she thought.

  Focus on it.

  As before, it started low in her stomach, and she fed it, tortured by thoughts of Hades.

  Where are you warm?

  “Everywhere,” she whispered, and imagined all that warmth in her hands, the energy growing so bright she could barely look at it, like a sun in the palm of her hands, or a dying star.

  Open your eyes, Persephone. She swore his breath caressed her skin.

  She did, and the shimmering image of a pomegranate sat between her hands. She took a deep, deliberate breath, guiding her hands to the earth, and as she did, pieces of rotting flesh rose from the ground and gathered. Before long, the grove smelled of fresh, ripe fruit, and several whole, red pomegranates lay at her feet.

  When she looked at Hecate, the goddess was clearly surprised.

  “Very good, my love,” she said.

  Persephone would have smiled, but she found that her success at reconstructing the pomegranate was overshadowed by an acute sadness. It made the world feel heavy and her body feel sluggish. She blinked rapidly, hoping to keep her tears at bay.

  She wasn’t sure if Hecate could sense her turmoil, but the goddess was quick to distract her.

  “Come, I will teach you to make poisons as promised.
”

  The two returned to her cottage, and Persephone sat beside Hecate, who had picked and bound several varieties of plants.

  “What is all this?”

  “The usual. Hemlock, daphne, deadly nightshade, death cap, angel’s trumpet, curare.”

  The goddess explained which parts of each plant were deadly, and how much it would take of each to kill a target. She also seemed to delight in explaining how the plant would kill.

  “What would poison do to a god?” Persephone asked.

  A ghost of a smile touched the goddess’s lips.

  “Thinking of poisoning Apollo?”

  Persephone could feel her cheeks redden. “N-no!”

  Hecate laughed quietly. “Do not feel guilty for contemplating murder, my dear, most gods have done far worse.”

  Persephone knew that was true.

  “Poison would likely have little impact on Apollo, except to make him very sick, which would be just as fun. Talk about no consequences.”

  Persephone laughed, and filed that bit of information away for later.

  They spent a while crushing leaves and oils into powerful concoctions until Persephone’s hands hurt from using the mortar and pestle and her eyes stung from the potency of the plants. At one point, she started to rub her eyes, when Hecate’s hand clamped down on her wrist.

  Persephone yelped, mostly from surprise. She didn’t know Hecate could move that fast.

  “Don’t.”

  Hecate led Persephone to a basin. She washed her hands and waited for Hecate to finish up before they made their way to the Asphodel Fields.

  “I have finalized your gown for the Summer Solstice,” Hecate said. Persephone’s stomach felt unsettled. She knew what the goddess was trying to do. She’d already commissioned a new crown for Persephone to wear for the occasion. She was trying to turn her into some sort of queen, and on the heels of her fight with Hades, that made her anxious.

  When Persephone and Hecate arrived, the souls swarmed. She wasn’t sure why, but today, their excitement, kindness and clear devotion to her brought tears to her eyes. Maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Hecate. She’d always known the people of the Underworld considered her a goddess, more than that, they’d immediately accepted her as part of their world, and hinted at her potential to become Queen of the Underworld and all she’d ever done was resist.