“The gods will destroy you,” Demeter said. “I would have kept you safe!”
“What good is safe when the rest of the world is under threat?”
“The rest of the world doesn’t matter!” Demeter seethed.
It was the first time Persephone saw Demeter’s true fear for her, and for a brief second, they both ceased to fight. They stared at one another, both on edge, but the words that came out of Demeter’s mouth were broken, and they broke Persephone.
“You matter. You are my daughter. I begged for you.”
There was a raw truth to those words, and while Persephone could understand her mother’s action to a point, there were some things she would never agree with. Hades too had begged for her. Hades too wanted to protect her—but he was willing to let her fight, to watch her suffer, if it meant seeing her rise.
“Mom,” she said, shaking her head.
“Leave with me,” Demeter said, desperate. “Leave with me now, and we can forget this ever happened.”
Persephone was already shaking her head. “I can’t.”
For her mother to suggest this was actually insane, but Persephone had grown to understand something about the goddess. Despite how long she’d lived, she was no longer well. She was broken, and she never would be whole again.
Demeter’s features hardened, and she threw out her hand, sending a bolt of magic toward Persephone while lifting her blade. Persephone blocked the magic and summoned her own, calling to the darkness, which manifested in shadow. The wraiths charged Demeter, and as they shuddered through her, she stumbled, falling to her knees.
When Demeter met Persephone’s gaze again, her eyes glowed. She rose, screaming her anger, her magic gathered fast like a screaming wind.
“You were right about one thing, Mother,” Persephone said.
“And what is that?”
“Revenge is sweet.”
In the next second, the sharpest weapons rose to Persephone’s call—spears and knives and swords—and descended, striking Demeter, pinning her to the ground.
A horrible silence followed as the wind died suddenly. Persephone dropped to her knees, breathing hard.
“Mom,” she rasped, crawling toward her.
Demeter did not move and did not speak. She lay with her arms spread wide, her fingers still clasping her blade. Her eyes were wide, as if she were in shock, and blood dripped from her mouth.
“Mom,” Persephone breathed.
She managed to stand and start to pull the weapons free. When she was finished, the goddess lay on the cold, marble ground, and Persephone sat with her, waiting for her to heal.
But she never moved.
“Mom!” Persephone grew frantic, rising onto her knees, shaking the goddess. She had wanted a lot of things from Demeter—for her to change, to be a mother, to let her live her life, but never death. Never this.
Then she remembered something that Hades had said about the weapons here—that some were relics and could prevent a god from healing.
“Mom, wake up!”
“Come, Persephone,” Hecate said, appearing behind her. She hadn’t even felt the goddess approach.
“Wake her up!” Persephone demanded. She placed her hands upon Demeter’s body, which was now growing cold, attempting to use her own magic, willing her mother to breathe again, but nothing worked.
“Her thread is cut, Persephone. There is no bringing Demeter back.”
“This isn’t what I wanted!” Persephone cried.
Then Hecate placed her hands upon Persephone’s face, forcing her gaze to hers.
“You will see Demeter again. All dead come to the Underworld, Persephone, but right now, Sybil and Harmonia need you.”
Persephone took a few deep breaths, her eyes stinging. Finally, she nodded and let the goddess help her to her feet, but as they started toward the door, she halted.
“Theseus!”
She whirled to where she’d restrained him earlier and found that he was gone.
“The helm!”
The two goddesses started to search the arsenal when the Underworld shook violently, and there was a horrible cracking sound.
Persephone’s heart pounded in her chest, and when her gaze connected with Hecate’s, the goddess was pale.
“What was that?” Persephone whispered.
“That,” Hecate said, “is the sound of Theseus releasing the Titans.”
Bonus Content
The following are scenes that either did not make it into the book or had to be reworked into the book.
Housewarming
“What is this called again?” Hades asked as they waited.
“It’s called a housewarming party,” she said.
He eyed the box in her hands.
“You brought cupcakes and not wood?”
Persephone tried not to laugh, especially since this was the second time she’d been asked this question.
“Why would I bring wood, Hades?”
“To warm the house.”
She couldn’t help giggling now. “You’re so old!”
Hades raised a brow, and she knew she would pay for that comment later.
“People don’t bring wood to housewarming parties anymore, Hades. They bring gifts and alcohol. They get drunk and play games.”
“And us? Will we get drunk and play games?”
She had been watching Hades drink since sunup, and he was perfectly sober. She was certain he couldn’t get drunk anymore—and that he was possibly an alcoholic.
She eyed him. “You aren’t going to trick anyone into a bargain, are you?”
He narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. “I promise nothing.”
“Hades.” Persephone spoke his name like a warning, and turned toward him. He surprised her by clasping her face between his fingers and kissing her.
When he pulled away, he said, “I will be on my best behavior.”
She snorted. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
A Shower Scene
When the spray hit her, she groaned at its heat, and Hades took the chance to deepen their kiss, hands gripping her breasts, fingers teasing her hardened nipples. She reached between them, stroking his thick sex as it beaded with moisture. She wanted to take him into her mouth, but Hades’s hand moved to her throat, fingers splayed across her jaw as he plied her mouth with this tongue.
Then he pulled away suddenly, and Persephone growled, reaching for his cock.
He chuckled, hand covering hers. “A moment, darling. You are covered in blood.”
“You didn’t seem to mind,” she pointed out.
“I don’t mind, but I’ll take any opportunity to touch you everywhere while I wash you.”
They stood outside the spray as he reached for the soap and wet a cloth. He started with her shoulder, gently washing the blood away. He moved to her breasts, groping and squeezing, his slick hands teasing each one before moving on to her stomach and sides, her thighs and her calves. On his knees before her, he gave an order.
“Turn.” She obeyed the command, placing her hands flat on the wall as he made his way back up her body. He spent time washing between her thighs, fingers parting her flesh to circle her clit and slide into her slickness before pressing his hard cock against the curve of her ass, hands returning to her breasts.
“How bad do you want me?” he asked, his lips close to her ear. She turned her head toward him, feeling the scrape of his beard against her cheek, and arched her back against him, pressing harder into his cock.
“More than anything,” she said.
Hades twisted her head toward him and captured her mouth, kissing her hard before he released her, only to kick her legs apart to guide himself inside her. Persephone rested her head against her hands, which were pressed firmly against the tile wall as he slid in
to place, filling and stretching with the sweetest burn.
“I would keep my cock buried inside your sweetness for eternity if I could,” he said, gripping her hips, thrusting into her so hard, she felt his balls slap against her ass. “Tell me how I feel inside you.”
There were so many words for it, so many pleasurable things, but the only thing she could manage to say was “Good.”
Hades’s fingers tightened in her hair.
“I want to feel you come on my cock,” he said against her ear. “Can you do that? Can you come for me?”
These were words he’d never spoken before. Hades had always been a very sexual person, but these words—they were raw and primal and dark, and she wanted more of them.
She wanted his darkness.
“I’ll come for you,” she said and moaned.
This time, he groaned—a guttural sound that she felt in the bottom of her stomach. His hand drifted down to her clit, and as his thumb brushed over the sensitive nerves, she bent back harder, feeling Hades’s thrusts deeper. His mouth was everywhere, sucking her ear, her neck, her shoulder.
“You are fucking glorious,” he said. “You are mine.”
Persephone’s orgasm came hard, and her legs shook so hard, she almost fell, but Hades held her up, one of his hands pressed to the tile for support.
“Come inside me,” Persephone ordered. “If I am yours. Come.”
Hades managed a strangled laugh. “Anything, my queen.”
The last few thrusts were hard and deep and fast, but she felt him pulse inside her, and his body relaxed against hers, his release finally realized.
For a moment, they stayed like that, bodies pressed together, leaning against the tile wall while the spray from the shower grew cold. When Hades pulled out, Persephone turned and slid to the tile floor, too drained to remain standing.
Hades knelt before her.
“Are you well?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling sleepily. “I just need a moment.”
A Lyre
“That sounds horrible,” Apollo said.
Persephone stopped plucking at the lyre the God of Music had given her and glared. “I’m doing exactly as you instruct. It must be the teacher.”
“If you were doing exactly as I instructed, your song would sound like this,” he countered and strummed a few pretty and clean notes.
“We’re not all gods of music, Apollo.”
“Clearly,” he spouted, dark brows rising.
“Someone’s moody today—more than usual,” Persephone countered.
It was Apollo’s turn to glare.
Persephone set the lyre aside. “What’s wrong? This isn’t about Ajax, is it?”
Apollo’s lips tightened. “Why would I be upset about a mortal?”
“You seemed pretty upset when Hector attacked him.”
“I was worried for my hero,” Apollo snapped.
“So you don’t think Hector has a chance against Ajax in the games?”
Apollo opened his mouth and then slammed it shut.
“You watch him,” Persephone said. “You smelled like him that day you brought me to the palaestra.”
Apollo’s jaw clenched, and he did not speak.
“I guess if you don’t want to talk,” she said and picked up the lyre again and started to play it—horribly.
“Stop! Is this your idea of torturing answers from me?” he demanded.
“Is it working?”
He glared and then sighed, suddenly looking very tired.
“The last time I fell in love, it ended in bloodshed. It always ends that way.”
“Hyacinth’s death wasn’t your fault, Apollo.”
“Yes, it was. I was not the only god who loved Hyacinth, and when he chose me, Zephyrus, the God of the West Wind, grew jealous. It was his wind that changed the trajectory of my throw, his wind that resulted in the death of Hyacinth.”
“Then his death is Zephyrus’s fault,” Persephone said.
Apollo shook his head. “You do not understand. Even now I see it happening with Ajax. Hector grows jealous everyday. The fight he picked with him at the palaestra was not the first.”
“What if Ajax likes you?” Persephone asked. “Will you decide not to pursue him out of fear.”
“It is not fear—” Apollo started and then looked away angrily.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t want to fuck this up. I’m not…a good person now. What happens when I lose again? Do I become…evil then?”
“Apollo,” Persephone said as gently as she could. “If you are worried that you will become evil, then you have more humanity than you think.”
Apollo gave her a look that begged to differ.
“You should talk to Ajax.”
“About what? We’re not in a relationship.”
“You smelled like him,” Persephone pointed out.
“And?”
“Well, that suggests you’ve at least had…physical contact.”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “I haven’t slept with him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
“It was implied,” he shot back. “But…we did kiss.”
“And? How did you feel while he kissed you?”
Apollo sighed and scrubbed his face. “Like…breathing and drowning all at the same time.” He paused. “That sounds so…silly, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Persephone said quietly. “Not at all. It sounds to me like there’s something between you two worth exploring.”
“Even if it ends in disaster?”
“Even so,” she said. “Look at what my mother is doing to the Upperworld as a result of my choice to marry Hades.”
“You must have regrets,” he said. “I know how you mourn humanity.”
“I regret that she chose this path,” Persephone said. “Because it means I must tear her apart.”
Author’s Note
Gods. Where do I begin with this one?
First, let me just say thank you to my readers. There are so many of you and I appreciate all of you—the reviews, the posts, the messages—all of it keeps me writing. It’s because of you that I was able to become a full-time author, and it’s because of you that I can continue doing what I love.
Also, a huge thank you to my Street Team. You all are the best hype team I could have ever asked for. I appreciate all the time you spend investing in me and my books. Y’all are the best.
About the Book
Writing this book was a blur—it was a messy mix of exhaustion and agony and grief and some hope it would all get better. Reflecting on the process, I cannot say how I got here, but I’m really glad I did. I’m very proud of this book—beyond proud. I know we all have our opinions about Ruin, but I hope you can tell why we suffered, why that journey was so important—it was to get to this. To the power of Malice. Looking back on who Persephone was in Darkness, her struggles in Ruin, and who she is at the end of this book, it makes me proud. Her journey gives me hope—that the hardship and the trauma and the grief just makes us powerful.
The Rest
As you all know, I play upon several myths, and I like to go over those myths and how I adapted or changed them in my books. I’ll start with the Titanomachy.
The Titanomachy: The Ten-Year War
The main question I asked myself as I prepared for Malice was—what would lead to another Titanomachy? We all know that the gods go through this cycle—the primordials were overthrown by the Titans, the Titans overthrown by the Olympians.
If you read about the Titanomachy, especially Zeus’s role, you see how charismatic he is, which is very off-putting, because you don’t really want him to be so charming, but he understood what it would take to overpower the Titans, and he promised those who woul
d support him and the Olympians that they would be rewarded by being able to keep their status and power—Hecate and Helios were two Titans who joined him. It is said, specifically too, that Zeus held Hecate in high regard—which is why she is the only person who can really put him in his place. This is why I decided she would be able to castrate him. I chose castration for Zeus’s punishment from Hecate because Cronus also castrated his father, Uranus (with the scythe that is used to kill Adonis).
I also felt that Demeter’s snowstorm would create an environment of unrest that would contribute to another Titanomachy. In myth, when Persephone is taken by Hades to the Underworld, the Goddess of Harvest actually just neglects the world, and it is plunged into a drought. I felt like while a drought would be bad, technology could combat that easier than it could combat a snowstorm. I think I felt this way because I live in Oklahoma, and we suffer during snowstorms because we don’t have the infrastructure to handle them. I felt that Demeter, as the Goddess of Harvest, obviously has control over weather, so why not have her bring a raging winter storm upon New Athens? It would then set the stage for unrest among the mortals, who were already encouraged by Triad.
Speaking of Demeter. When Persephone goes missing in myth, she actually wanders the world aimlessly in a bit of a depression. She goes to Celeus disguised as an old woman called Doso (hence her name choice in Malice). While there, she begins to take care of the king’s two children, although she is caught trying to make one of the children immortal by placing him in the fire and outs herself as a goddess. She gets really mad about this and forces the king and his people to build a temple in her honor.
I struggled with how the gods were going to react to Demeter’s rampage, but I tried to stay close to how I felt the myth unfolded—which was that the gods let this go for a long time, until they were faced with the extinction of the human race, and as a result, no worshippers. At first, Zeus tried to use words to calm the goddess. He also sent other gods to attempt to convince her to come back to Olympus, but she refused. As a last resort, Zeus then sent Hermes to retrieve Persephone from the Underworld. I played upon Zeus’s same lazy decision making within my book. Zeus might need worshippers, but he’s not afraid of losing his power, so he does not act fast.
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