A Touch of Malice

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A Touch of Malice Page 34

by Scarlett St. Clair


  “I do not trust Zeus or Poseidon or Hera, but I trust us,” he said. “Marry me tonight, and they cannot take it away.”

  There was something else at work inside her—an excitement that rose at the thought of finally being Hades’s wife. At not having to plan anymore, to worry about flowers or venues or approval.

  “Yes,” she said, and as Hades’s smile broke across his face, she felt like she was falling in love with him all over again. He kissed her, and for a long moment, she wondered if they would leave the baths, but Hades eventually pulled away.

  “I will have you tonight as my wife,” he said. “Come. I will summon Hecate.”

  She rinsed off and changed into a robe Hades held for her. The Goddess of Witchcraft was already waiting as they left the baths.

  “Oh, my dear!” Hecate said, wrapping her arms around Persephone. “Can you believe it? You will be married tonight! Let’s get you ready,” she said, looping Persephone’s arm through her own. She glared at Hades. “And if I see—or sense—you anywhere near the queen’s suite, I will banish you to Arachne’s Pit.”

  “I will not peek,” Hades said, grinning at Persephone, his eyes alight, and then his voice dipped. “I’ll see you soon.”

  They parted then, and Persephone found herself in the familiar space of the queen’s suite—the space Hades had made before he knew he would ever have a lover, before he knew of her existence. This room was his hope.

  Hope, she thought. The most dangerous weapon.

  She wasn’t sure what brought on that thought, but it sent a tremor up her spine that even Hecate noticed.

  “Nervous, dear?”

  “No,” Persephone said. “I’m more ready than ever.”

  Hecate grinned. “Sit. The lampades are ready.”

  She gestured to the white vanity where the fairylike creatures hovered. They were tiny silver-skinned nymphs with almost invisible wings. White flowers burst against their dark hair. As Persephone sat, they went to work; their magic tingled against her skin and molded her hair. They were quick and efficient, and when they fluttered to hover behind her head, she admired their work—simple makeup that accentuated the curve of her eyes, the bow of her lips, the height of her cheekbones, and the soft, pale waves of her hair. Upon her head, at the base of her horns, was a crown of baby’s breath.

  “Beautiful,” she said, and then her eyes shifted to Hecate, who hovered in the reflection of the mirror. She held a white gown draped over her arms.

  Persephone turned fully.

  “Hecate, when did you—”

  “Alma and I worked on it together,” she said. “Let’s see how it fits.”

  Hecate helped Persephone into the gown, guiding it over her head. The material was silk and felt cool and soft against her skin. As she turned to face the mirror, she gasped quietly. The dress was beautiful and simple, having a pretty silhouette that seemed to be made specifically for the curve of her breasts and the flair of her hips. The neckline was an elegantly cut V the straps thin, and a short train trailed behind her.

  “A final touch,” Hecate said as she brought forth a shimmering veil embroidered with green vines and flowers in colors of red, pink, and white.

  The final look was dreamy—it was everything and more than Persephone had ever imagined. She was a goddess, a queen, but most importantly, she was Persephone.

  “Oh, Hecate, it is beautiful,” she said, and as she stared in the mirror, she found it hard to completely grasp that this was her wedding day.

  She faced the goddess, who was holding a bouquet of white narcissus, roses, and leafy greenery.

  “Yuri had the children pick the narcissus,” Hecate said.

  Persephone smiled and felt tears prick her eyes as she took the flowers.

  “No tears, my love,” Hecate said. “These are happy times.”

  “But I am happy.”

  Hecate smiled and took her face between her hands. “I knew the moment Hades spoke of you that I would love you. I never doubted for a moment that this day would come.”

  Persephone’s lips quivered but she did her best not to cry. Instead, she took a breath.

  “Thank you, Hecate. For everything.”

  “It’s time,” Hecate said. “Come.”

  “Hecate,” Persephone said, hesitating. There was something she wanted—needed—but she was afraid to say it.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I’d…like to have Lexa present. Do you think Thanatos would let her leave Elysium?”

  “Dear, you are Queen of the Underworld. You decide.”

  “Then we have a stop to make.”

  * * *

  Persephone waited behind a line of trees with Lexa, who wore a dress that looked like a version of her veil, only the fabric was black. She had yet to peek around the branches to see the grove in which she would actually wed Hades, but Lexa did.

  She inhaled and whipped around to face her.

  “Oh my gods, Persephone,” she exclaimed. “It’s gorgeous and there are so many…people.”

  Persephone guessed Lexa was torn between calling them people and souls.

  She peeked again.

  “I cannot believe I’m actually getting married,” Persephone said, holding her flowers so tight, her palms had started to sweat. When she thought of what she’d come from, it was even more surreal. She had never considered marriage, never dreamed of this day, but meeting Hades had changed all that.

  “Are you nervous?” Lexa asked, looking at her over her shoulder.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be,” she said and came to Persephone’s side. “When you step beyond those trees, just look for Hades. You’ll think of nothing else, want no one else, but him.”

  It was something the old Lexa would say, and it gave Persephone comfort. Still, she glanced at her friend curiously.

  “What?” Lexa asked when she noticed.

  “Nothing,” Persephone said. “It just sounds like you are speaking from experience.”

  A strange, thick silence followed.

  “I think I know what it is like to want no one else,” Lexa said quietly.

  “Thanatos?” Persephone asked, still watching Lexa closely.

  Lexa nodded. It wasn’t that hard to guess, given how they’d talked about one another over the last month. Persephone wanted to say something—to ask more questions. Had she talked to Thanatos about her feelings? Had they kissed? But a sweet, beautiful sound filled the air, sending chills rippling through her body.

  “That’s our cue,” Lexa said, tugging on Persephone’s arm.

  Persephone held her flowers and her breath tighter, and as she rounded the corner, it was knocked out of her. They were in a huge grove surrounded by tall trees, each decorated with garlands of blooming lavender and pink flowers, and overhead, the lampades glowed like lantern lights. Then there was Hades—dreadfully handsome—wreathed by an arch of greenery and flora, Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus sitting stoically at his feet.

  As soon as her gaze collided with his, he was all she wanted.

  His smile—wide and gleaming—lit up his entire face. Even his eyes seemed brighter and tracked her as she approached him. He’d chosen a suit for the occasion, black with a single red polyanthus flower in the pocket of his suit jacket. His hair was slick and tied at the back. His horns were on display—beautiful, lethal things that loomed over his head.

  The whole procession felt frantic and wild and perfect.

  She paused to hug those she could reach—Yuri and Alma, Isaac and Lily and the other children of the Underworld, Charon and Tyche. Then she faced Apollo, who smiled, his violet eyes warm and sincere.

  “Congratulations, Seph.”

  “Thank you, Apollo.”

  When she came to Hermes, she hugged him longest.

  “You look beautiful, Sephy,
” he said and pulled away. He was still wearing his yellow suit.

  “You’re the best, Hermes. Truly.”

  He smiled and brushed his knuckle over the curve of her cheek. “I know.”

  They laughed, and when she turned, she realized she was now face-to-face with Hades. She started toward him when Lexa tugged her back, taking her bouquet.

  “Eager, darling?” Hades asked and the crowd laughed.

  “Always,” she said.

  He took her hands, and her gaze did not waver from his face. His smile—oh, his smile was brilliant and something she rarely saw, and as he looked at her from head to toe, sapphire eyes as deep as the coldest parts of the ocean, she knew he was hers forever.

  “Hi,” she said quietly, almost shyly.

  “Hi,” he replied, raising a brow. “You are beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  Hades looked thoroughly amused.

  They found themselves interrupted by Hecate, who had stepped into the space before them, clearing her throat, and when they turned to look at her, she smiled, warm and happy.

  “I knew this moment would come,” Hecate said. “Eventually.”

  The Goddess of Witchcraft looked to Hades.

  “I have seen love—all forms and degrees—but there is something dear about this love—the kind you two share. It is desperate and fierce and passionate.” She paused to laugh—and so did everyone behind them. Persephone blushed, but Hades remained passive. “And perhaps it is because I know you, but it is my favorite kind of love to watch. It blossoms and blazes, challenges and teases, hurts and heals. There are no two souls better matched. Apart, you are light and dark, life and death, a beginning and an end. Together, you are a foundation that will weave an empire, unite a people, and weld worlds together. You are a cycle that never ends—eternal and infinite. Hades.”

  Hecate held out her hand, and at the center of her palm was the ring Hades had made for her. He took it and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

  Persephone’s gaze collided with his—a ring! She did not have a ring, and yet the tilt to the corner of his lips told her everything would be okay.

  “Do you take Persephone to be your wife?” Hecate asked.

  “I do,” he said. His deep voice slid against her skin, making her shiver as he slipped the ring upon her finger.

  “Persephone,” Hecate said and held out her other hand. A black ring rested at the center of her palm. It was heavy, and as Persephone held it, her hand shook.

  “Do you take Hades to be your husband?”

  “I do,” she said and slid the ring upon his finger. She stared at it for a long moment, feeling a deep sense of pride at seeing it there—it meant he belonged to her.

  “You may kiss the bride, Hades.”

  Persephone’s eyes were fastened to Hades as his expression turned thoughtful, almost grim, but Persephone knew it wasn’t because he was upset; it was a mark of how serious he took this moment. A weight settled upon her chest as she realized how long he had waited. While their courtship was a second in his vast life, he had spent most of that alone, yearning for companionship, for love reciprocated, and when their lips met, it would be an end to that vast void.

  He cupped her face, and she latched on to his wrists, smiling up at him.

  “I love you,” he said and sealed his mouth to hers.

  At first, she thought he would end the kiss there—something simple and sweet before the entire Underworld— but then his hand moved from her face to the back of her head, while the other wrapped around her waist. His tongue slid against her mouth, and she opened for him, smiling for a moment before he deepened the kiss.

  Around them, the souls applauded.

  “Get a room!” Hermes yelled.

  When Hades pulled away, there was a smirk on his face, and he bent forward to press a kiss to her forehead before taking her hand. They turned to face the massive crowd.

  “May I present Hades and Persephone, King and Queen of the Underworld.”

  The cheers were deafening. Hades guided Persephone down the aisle, which felt so much shorter than when she’d first walked it. Once they were behind the line of trees, he pulled her against him and kissed her again.

  “I have never seen anything more beautiful than you,” he said.

  Her smile widened. “I love you. So much.”

  “Come,” Hecate said as she rounded the corner.

  She used her magic to teleport them and ushered them into the library.

  “You have a few minutes to yourselves until I return to collect you for the festivities,” Hecate said at the doors. “If I were you, I’d keep your clothes on.” She paused for a moment and added, “And your feet on the ground.”

  As the door shut, Hades looked at Persephone.

  “That,” he said, “sounded like a challenge.”

  Persephone arched a brow. “Are you up for it, husband?”

  But at the word, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

  “Are you okay?”

  His eyes were still closed as he spoke. “Say it again. Call me your husband.”

  She smiled.

  “I said, are you up for the challenge, husband?”

  Hades opened his eyes. They had darkened from blue to black, burning with desire. He reached for her hips, bunching the silk of her dress into his hands.

  “As much as I want you now,” he said, “I have something else planned for us tonight.”

  Persephone swept her hands over his chest and behind his neck.

  “Does it involve…something new?” she asked.

  Hades raised a brow. “Are you asking…for something new?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Hades reached for her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “And what is it you wish to try?”

  She swallowed. “Restraints.”

  Chapter XXXII

  In a Sea of Stars

  Hecate retrieved them from the library and led them to the first-floor entrance of the ballroom. On the other side of the doors, she heard Hermes’s voice.

  “Introducing your Lord and Lady of the Underworld, King Hades and Queen Persephone.”

  Persephone was certain she would never tire of hearing her name spoken in tandem with Hades’s, and as the doors swung open, she was faced with her people—every soul in the Underworld she had grown to love. They clapped and cheered again as they entered the throng, spilling out into the courtyard, where they came to a stop, and there beneath the Underworld sky and before all the souls—new and old—Hades drew Persephone close.

  The music was soft—a beautiful melody that seemed to twine them together.

  “What are you thinking?” Persephone asked.

  “I am thinking of many things, wife,” he said.

  “Like?”

  The corners of his lips curled.

  “I am thinking of how happy I am,” he answered, the words warming her chest. Still, she arched a brow.

  “Is that all?”

  “I wasn’t finished,” he said, tightening his hold and bending so that his cheek pressed against hers, his breath brushing her ear. “I am wondering if you are wet for me. If your stomach is wound tight with desire. If you’re fantasizing about tonight as much as I am—and are your thoughts just as vulgar?”

  When he pulled away, she was flushed, the heat pooling in the core of her body. Still, she held his stare, and as the music came to an end, they halted at the center of the courtyard. Persephone craned her neck, her lips close to his as she answered his questions.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes darkened, and Persephone grinned just as her attention was taken by a group of children begging for a dance. She broke away from Hades and held hands with the children as they moved around the courtyard, oblivious to rhythm or footwork. Still, Persepho
ne did not care—she laughed and smiled and felt more joy than she had in months.

  When the song ended, another began, and the children broke away to play on their own.

  “May I have this dance, Queen Persephone?”

  She turned to find Hermes, who bowed low in her presence.

  “Of course, Lord Hermes,” she countered, taking his outstretched hand.

  “I am proud of you, Sephy,” he said.

  “Proud? Whatever for?”

  “You did well in front of the Olympians tonight,” he said.

  “I think I made enemies.”

  He shrugged and guided her into a spin. “Having enemies is a universal truth,” he said. “It means you have something worth fighting for.”

  “You know,” Persephone said, “for all your humor, Hermes, you have a lot of wisdom.”

  The god grinned. “Another universal truth.”

  After dancing with Hermes, Persephone was passed to Charon, and when she found herself standing face-to-face with Thanatos, her smile faded.

  He was pale and handsome and looked a little sad.

  The god bowed his head. “Lady Persephone, will you dance with me?”

  Thanatos had not approached her since the day he’d told her she could not see Lexa. Facing him now felt awkward.

  She hesitated and Thanatos noticed, adding, “I understand if you wish to decline.”

  “I do not expect you to be kind because I am your queen,” she said.

  “I did not ask you to dance because you are my queen,” he said. “I asked you to dance so I could apologize.”

  “Apologize then, and we shall dance.”

  He frowned, his blue eyes sincere as he spoke. “I am sorry for my actions and my words. I took protecting Lexa to an extreme, and I regret how I hurt you.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said, and Thanatos offered a sad smile.

  “It does not appear my apology has made you feel better,” Persephone said as they danced.

  “I think I am appalled by my behavior,” said the god.

  “Love does that to the best of us,” she said. Thanatos’s eyes widened, and Persephone offered a small laugh. “I know you care for her.”

 

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