As she lay there, the ground began to tremble and groan. She felt the earth yawn beneath her, and she scrambled to her hands and knees, nails digging into the dirt to keep from falling into the chasm that had opened beneath her. She looked up, finding Hecate only a few feet away. Her eyes were all black. She had broken the earth without lifting a finger. She had used powerful magic and was not lethargic. She had Persephone on her knees, and she’d only used an ounce of her abilities.
Persephone tried to pull herself up, but she only managed to fall a little farther.
“Hecate—” The goddess’s name fell from her lips, but she was not moved by her plea. Instead, her answer was to hurl more flame. Persephone fell, screaming, into the chasm. It was dark for only a few seconds before she landed in the battle-worn clearing once more. She crashed several feet into the ground before coming to rest at the bottom of a crater.
She lay there for a second, blinking up at the Underworld sky. It was hazy and bright.
Again, she recalled Hades’s teachings.
“How do I fight when I do not know what power you will use against me?”
“You will never know.”
She teleported, appearing behind Hecate, magic stirring in her blood. As soon as she landed, the Goddess of Magic turned, and this time, instead of throwing shadow, black, thorny vines erupted from the ground. Persephone’s eyes widened before she vanished once more. As she appeared a few feet away, she dug deep, calling her magic forth. A similar thorny vine burst from the ground, thicker, sharper, with red-tipped spikes. It tangled with Hecate’s, a barrier between the two goddesses.
“Finally,” Hecate said, and a wicked smile cut across her face.
Persephone felt Hecate’s magic erupt, an energy so fierce and deadly, it made her heart rattle in her chest. Then the tangle of thorns exploded, and Persephone hit the ground, covering her head as spikes scattered across the clearing. She felt several sharp stings as her body was lanced with thorns. She roared through the pain, her magic sweeping through her, pushing the splintered wood out of her body and sealing the wounds.
“You are the only one who can stop your mother,” Hecate said. “Yet it seems to me you are waiting for the Olympians to intervene.”
Persephone flinched. Hecate was not wrong, but the difference was the Olympians were far more powerful than Persephone was.
“Perhaps more powerful then, but now?” Hecate asked.
“Get out of my head,” Persephone said between her teeth. The Goddess of Witchcraft ignored her.
“What if they do not side with you? What if they tear you and Hades apart?”
Persephone’s hands shook, and there was a shift inside her, a change to her magic. She was drawing from a well she had only accessed once before.
It was dark.
It was a part of her where she’d stored her anger and her doubt and her fear—every negative thought and experience she’d ever had. That energy seeped from her body and into the earth. All around them, the leaves and the grass wilted and withered, and the limbs of the trees dropped as if melted.
She was draining Hades’s magic from the Underworld, stealing its life to feed her own.
If Hecate noticed, she did not hesitate in her speech.
“Zeus will take the path of least resistance. You are the least resistance. You are weak.”
“I am not weak.”
“Prove it.”
The earth at their feet was now barren. The trees that were once lush and emerald had turned to ash, the remnants carried away as a darkness gathered around Persephone, lifting her hair and tearing at her clothes.
“I am a Goddess of Life,” Persephone said. “A Queen of Death.”
As the shadows swirled, Persephone felt as though she herself were becoming darkness.
“I am the beginning and end of worlds.”
In the next second, she charged, moving faster than she’d ever moved in her life, and as she neared Hecate, she brought her hands together. A dark energy pulsed there, shooting out and hitting the goddess in the chest. She flew back, her feet dragging along the ground, tearing up the earth. She came to land in a tangle of thorns Persephone had summoned, caging her wrists and her ankles.
As the dust settled, Persephone was left breathing hard, her body humming from the energy she’d managed to summon from the Underworld.
Hecate smiled.
“Well done, my dear,” she said. “Shall we have tea?”
Persephone felt something wet beneath her nose, and as she touched her lips, they came away covered in blood.
Her brows knitted together.
“Huh,” she mumbled. “Yes, tea would be lovely.”
* * *
They retired to Hecate’s cottage, leaving the meadow drained of magic.
“Should I…restore it?” Persephone asked as they walked away.
“No,” Hecate said, nonchalant. “Let Hades see your handiwork.”
Persephone did not argue. She was feeling tired, though not as exhausted as she had in the past when she’d used her magic. The blood was new, though, and as she sat down at Hecate’s table, the goddess handed her a black cloth.
“You used a lot of power,” Hecate explained. “Your body will grow used to it.”
An earthy, bitter scent filled the space as Hecate prepared tea.
“Have you thought anymore on the wedding?” Hecate asked. “The souls are eager to confirm a date.”
“I haven’t,” Persephone replied, staring down at her hands—her nails were broken, and her fingers were dirty. The wedding brought up other feelings—like blame. Suddenly, she wanted to fight again just so she didn’t have to face how she was feeling.
Hecate placed a steaming mug of tea in front of her along with a jar of honey.
“You’ll need to sweeten it,” she said. “It’s willow bark, so it will be bitter.”
Persephone added the honey slowly and sipped the tea. She concentrated hard on the task, avoiding eye contact with Hecate, though she knew the goddess stared.
“Are you well, my dear?” Hecate asked, sitting across from Persephone.
She did not know how to reply, so she stayed quiet, but her eyes blurred with tears.
“My dear?” Hecate’s voice was low.
“No,” Persephone whispered, and her voice cracked. “I am not well.”
Hecate reached across the table and covered Persephone’s hand with her own.
“Do you wish to tell me?”
Persephone swallowed, tears streaming silently down her face.
“It has been a long day,” she said in a hushed tone. She paused and then spoke. “I am afraid Hades will distance himself from me.”
“I do not think he would be able to stay away long,” Hecate replied.
“You do not know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
Persephone recounted what had occurred between them the previous night. She had to pause to take deep breaths, not expecting to have such a visceral response to merely recalling the experience, but even now as she thought about how they’d begun—with healing kisses that had slowly morphed into something more passionate—and how it ended, with the horror of reliving Pirithous’s abduction, she found that her heart raced, and her chest hurt.
“Dearest, you did nothing wrong.”
It had not felt that way when she had woken up alone.
“It might be true that Hades is distancing himself. It is likely he is doing so because he thinks he hurt you.”
She knew that was true. She would never forget how horrified he had looked after he had realized what had happened.
“I hurt him,” she replied.
“You scared him,” Hecate clarified. “There is a difference.”
“I hate Pirithous for what he has done. First he invaded my dreams
and now the most sacred part of my life with Hades.”
“Hate him if it helps,” Hecate said. “But Pirithous will not go away until you confront what happened to you.”
Persephone swallowed thickly. “I feel…ridiculous. So many people have experienced worse—”
She thought of Lara, who had been raped by Zeus.
“Do not compare trauma, Persephone,” Hecate said. “It will do no good. You will find a way to take back your power.”
“I feel powerful when I am with Hades. I feel most powerful when we have sex. I do not know why, only that I am in awe that this god worships at my feet.”
“Then take that power back,” Hecate said. “Sex is about pleasure as much as it is about communication. Talk to Hades. Tell him what you need.”
Persephone met Hecate’s gaze.
“I love him, Hecate. The world wants to take him from me, and I fear if I do not release him, there will be war.”
“Oh, my dear,” Hecate said, a note of melancholy in her voice. “No matter your choice, there is no avoiding war.”
Chapter XXIX
Healing
Persephone ate dinner with the souls in Asphodel. When she returned to the palace, she bathed and changed into a white nightgown that stuck to her damp skin. Heading to her bedroom, she was not surprised to find it empty, despite feeling Hades’s presence somewhere in the Underworld. She thought of her conversation with Hecate and knew she had to end this before it went any further.
Stepping out onto the balcony, she went in search of him, descending the stairs into Hades’s lush garden. The stone pathway was cool against her bare feet, and the air felt damp as if it had just rained, though as far as Persephone was aware, it did not rain in the Underworld.
As she broke through the shady canopy of the garden, dusk settled in muted tones of pink and orange and blue. A skeletal moon was growing brighter, and beneath that beautiful sky was Hades. Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus ran in circles around him, flattening the grass as they chased after their red ball. It was Cerberus who noticed her first, then Typhon, then Orthrus, and last Hades, who turned and stared as she approached. His eyes were dark and burned every part of her exposed skin. Desire erupted in her stomach, hardening her nipples beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.
She halted a few steps from him.
“I haven’t seen you all day,” she said.
“It was a busy day,” he answered. “As was yours. I saw the grove.”
“You do not sound impressed.”
“I am, but to say I am surprised would be a lie. I know your capabilities.”
Hades had always known her potential, and yet he’d been the first to teach her that her worth was not tied to her power. It was a hard lesson to learn when the value of the Divine was placed upon their abilities.
Silence stretched between them as the words Persephone wanted to say crowded her mouth. Hades looked so haunted, standing there beneath his beautiful sky. She wanted him so badly—his warmth and his scent. Just say the words, she thought, taking a deep breath as if to prepare, but she only managed to let it out in a slow stream of air.
“Did you come to say good night?” Hades asked.
Persephone looked at him, surprised. She never sought him out to say good night because she did not have to—he always went to bed with her, even if he did not stay.
“Will you not come to bed with me?” she asked, watching as Hades’s throat bobbed.
“I will join you shortly,” he replied, but he did not look at her. Instead, he stared off at the fading horizon. It was the second night he’d lied.
Her throat tightened.
She considered leaving—fleeing, really. In the face of the wall Hades was building, it seemed easier to run away than attempt to tear it down. Except she knew that wasn’t true.
“I want to talk about the other night,” she said, imbuing her voice with as much confidence as she could.
Her request drew Hades’s attention—his fierce gaze, his clenched jaw, his tense body. He opened his mouth and then closed it before looking away.
“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said, and those words opened a raw wound in her chest.
“I know,” Persephone said, tears burning her eyes. In turn, Hades’s own breath came fast, as if he were holding back a dam of emotion.
“I was so lost in my desire, in what I wished to do with you, I didn’t see what was happening. I pushed you too far. It will never happen again.”
No, she wanted to scream. It was what she feared—that Hades would halt exploring with her out of fear.
“What if that’s what I want?” she asked.
Hades stared at her, searching her gaze, and she continued.
“I want to try so many things with you, but I am afraid you will not want me.”
“Persephone—” Hades took a tentative step forward, then another.
“I know it isn’t true, but I cannot help how I think, and I thought it was better to say what was on my mind than keep it to myself. I don’t want to stop learning with you.”
His hands came to rest upon her face, a gentle touch, as if she were porcelain. He tilted her head so that her gaze would meet his and spoke.
“I will always want you.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and as he pulled away, Persephone latched on to his forearms.
“I know you hurt for me, but I need you.”
“I am here.”
She held his gaze and guided his hands from her face to her breasts.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “We can go slow.”
She did not release his hands as he gently squeezed her breasts or when his thumb and forefinger brushed her nipples.
“What else?” he asked, voice low and husky.
“Kiss me,” she said, and he did. His lips pressed gently to hers, and his tongue slid over the seam of her mouth. She opened for him, tasting him, their rhythm a slow, intoxicating exchange. Hades’s hands remained on her breasts, kneading and caressing.
Then he shifted closer, one hand moving into her hair, and froze suddenly, pulling away.
“I’m sorry. I did not ask if that was okay.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
She reached for him and brought their lips together. This time, she led, driving her tongue into his mouth. Her fingers thrust through his silken hair, releasing it from its tight binding. She used it to pull him closer and kiss him harder, and then her hands shifted—skimming down his chest to his cock, which strained, desperate for release.
This time, his hand came to rest over hers, grinding against her palm.
“Touch me,” he said.
And she did, first through the fabric, but when that wasn’t enough, she unbuttoned his pants and freed his sex. He was warm and soft and hard, and as her hand moved, working from root to tip, they continued to kiss until Hades pulled away, his face glistening with sweat.
“Kneel,” she whispered, and they both hit their knees, kissing desperately until Persephone eased Hades onto his back. She lifted her gown and straddled him, sliding over his sex with her own. The friction was delicious, and without delay, she guided him inside her. She let out a breath so deep, it felt like her soul had left her body. Hades groaned, his fingers digging into her thighs.
“Yes,” he hissed as she moved, rolling her hips to feel him deeper. Their eyes held and their breath quickened. Persephone took his hands, guiding them over her body—to her breasts, down her sides, over her ass.
“Fuck.” Hades’s curse was low and breathless.
She leaned forward and kissed him, devoured him, drowned in him. There was nothing but him beneath the skeletal moon and starry sky, and when she grew too weak to move, Hades sat up, gripped her neck and her back, and helped her slide along his cock until he came.
/> They sat in the middle of the field, joined, until their breathing eased. After, Persephone stood on wobbly legs. Hades held her hands from the ground.
“Are you well?”
She smiled down at him.
“Yes. Very.”
Hades followed her to her feet and restored his appearance. After a moment, he held out his hand.
“Are you ready for bed, my darling?”
“As long as you are coming too.”
“Of course,” he replied.
As they made their way back through the garden, Hades’s pace slowed to a stop. Persephone looked at him, wary.
“What is it?”
“When you said you wanted to…try…things with me. What things, exactly?”
Persephone’s face flushed—it was ironic, given that they’d just had sex in the field outside the palace.
“What are you willing to teach?” she asked.
“Anything,” he said. “Everything.”
“Perhaps we should begin where we failed,” she answered. “With…bondage.”
Hades stared at her for a long moment before brushing a piece of her hair from her face.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I will tell you when I feel afraid.”
Hades rested his forehead against hers, and as he spoke, his breath warmed her lips.
“You hold my heart in your hands, Persephone.”
“And your cock too, apparently,” Hermes said.
They turned to find the God of Mischief standing a few steps away, looking thoroughly amused. He was dressed as if he’d stepped out of antiquity, in gold robes that shimmered in the night and sandals that squeezed his calves.
“Hermes,” Hades growled.
“I thought interrupting now was probably better than a few minutes ago,” he said.
“You were watching?” Persephone asked, torn between feeling angry and embarrassed.
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