by Aimee Carter
This wasn’t one of those moments. As the last vestiges of sunset stretched across the horizon, Aphrodite splashed in the ocean with the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He was tall and strong, his face perfectly proportioned and his coloring fair. His smile seemed brighter than the sun, and when he glanced in my direction—unable to see me, of course, but still—my heart pounded, and warmth filled me from head to toe. It was the way Hermes had made me feel so many lifetimes ago. The way I wanted Hades to make me feel.
I was instantly smitten, but I wasn’t the only one. As I watched them together, Aphrodite couldn’t take her eyes off him, either. Despite their games, she constantly kept a hand on him, as if she were afraid he would disappear. Maybe he would. Maybe he was some sort of illusion. There was no other explanation for how someone so handsome could exist and not be one of us.
He tackled her to the sand and tickled her, and her shrieks of delight made my head ache. So she’d won again. Another boy, this time the most perfect one I’d ever seen, and Hephaestus didn’t seem to care. If anything, he’d love her more tomorrow than he did today, because that’s the kind of man he was. Just like Hades.
“Adonis!” she cried, laughing. “Adonis, no, I have to get back. I’m already late as it is.”
“Take me with you,” he murmured, kissing her, and she melted against him. Usually this was my cue to look away or disappear, but something stopped me.
Adonis. That was his name. I whispered it to myself, feeling the syllables roll off my tongue, and I smiled. It was perfect. He was perfect. And I wanted him.
“Mmm, you know I would, but Daddy would kill me,” said Aphrodite, stealing another kiss. “I mean it this time—I really have to go. I have a council meeting.”
I blinked. Adonis knew she was a goddess? Not that men didn’t usually suspect when it came to her, but to actually mention the council…
“Very well,” he said, releasing her with one last kiss. “I will see you again shortly?”
“Soon,” she promised. “I do have to spend some time with my husband, you know.”
He grinned, and she blew him a kiss. A moment later, she disappeared, and Adonis stared at the spot where she’d last stood. He had a wistful look on his face, as if he were thinking about a future he could never have. And if he were really mortal, then he was right. He couldn’t.
Before I could stop and think, I slipped through the barrier between us, and I arrived on the beach in exactly the spot where Aphrodite had stood. Adonis’s eyes widened, and he blinked several times.
“Who are you?” he said, but he didn’t step back. That was something.
“Persephone,” I said. “I didn’t mean to barge in—”
“Persephone? Queen of the Dead?” he said, and now he did stumble backward. Damn. “Am I dying? Am I to be punished for being with the goddess of love herself?”
I snorted. “Please. If every man she slept with died because of it, there’d be no men left in the world. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to carry you off to the Underworld or anything.” Though he had the good sense to fear it, at least. “I just…”
What was I supposed to say? That I’d been spying on him and Aphrodite? That he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen? That I saw my future in his smile, that light and warmth and heart—that I wanted a piece of that happiness, no matter how small?
Oh, please. Love at first sight was the sort of thing Aphrodite believed, not me. I should’ve never come.
But the thought of returning to the Underworld and leaving him behind made my shriveled heart twitch in protest. He was a stranger, but at the same time, when I looked at him, I saw the familiar. I saw everything I’d ever wanted in those blue eyes, and I couldn’t tear myself away.
“You just what?” he said, his voice gentler now, as if he could feel whatever drew me toward him, as well. Maybe he could. Maybe this was another one of Aphrodite’s tricks, designed to humiliate me in front of everyone.
I needed to go. Or come up with a better excuse that had nothing to do with the truth. I took a breath, weighing my options. Not much of a choice. I could no sooner leave him than I could throw myself into the bottomless pit of Tartarus. “You looked—lonely, that’s all. I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared.”
He eyed me, and as the sky turned from rainbow to purple, he relaxed. “It takes loneliness in oneself to recognize it in another.”
“Yes, well. I don’t exactly have a whole host of people in the Underworld begging to come to my parties,” I said wryly.
That got a smile out of him, and it was just as beautiful as the ones he’d given Aphrodite. Maybe even more so, now that this one was meant for me. “I am Adonis,” he said, stepping forward. Though he hesitated, he took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “I am afraid I do not know the proper protocol for addressing royalty.”
“This isn’t my realm,” I said, “and right now, I’m not the queen of anything. I’m just Persephone.”
That was technically a lie; I still had a month to go before spring, but Adonis didn’t need to know that. “Well, just Persephone, it is the greatest pleasure and honor of my humble existence to set eyes on a creature as beautiful as you.”
I blushed. “Please. I know you’ve seen Aphrodite.”
“And yet I speak the truth.”
No wonder Aphrodite liked him. He could probably talk his way out of the Underworld. “Do you live here?” I said, and he nodded.
“Aphrodite brought me here to keep me safe,” he said. “Though safe from what, I’m afraid I do not know.”
I did. One look at Adonis, and it was obvious Aphrodite was worried someone else would claim him for their own. “What about your home? Your family?”
He shrugged and took my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I have none.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Adonis shook his head, and his blond curls fell into his eyes. “Don’t be. All the more time to spend with you. Do goddesses eat? Might I interest you in dinner?”
I should’ve said no. Hades would miss me before long, and I’d promised myself I would never betray him again. But Adonis made me feel as if I was flying—one look, one smile, and that was enough to wash all of the bad away. This was what I’d missed since Hermes. This was what I’d craved. And no matter how much I loved him, Hermes was nothing compared to Adonis.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I have time for dinner.”
He beamed and brushed his lips against my cheek. The spot where he’d touched me seemed to sear itself into my skin, and as he led me toward the edge of the woods, I hugged his arm. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one evening with Hades. I’d make it up to him, stay an extra day after the spring equinox or something. But nothing, not even my soul-crushing guilt, could make me walk away from Adonis.
* * *
Each evening, after Hades and I finished our judgments, I visited Adonis. Sometimes I stayed for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, always timed to make sure Aphrodite would never find us. But she stayed away more and more, always grumbling about Ares or Hephaestus needing her attention. Adonis never complained, and she never asked why.
But I was that reason. The time I spent with Adonis was bliss, and from the way he lit up upon seeing me, I knew it wasn’t just me. Together we explored the island hand in hand, and we talked about everything. My life, his, the role the council played in the lives of mortals—Aphrodite had told him far more than we we
re permitted to tell mortals, and that made the conversation much easier. I wasn’t bending any rules she hadn’t already broken, and Adonis seemed to enjoy hearing about what we did.
Mortals already told stories about my family—some true, some embellished, some outright ridiculous, and Adonis took great joy in relaying them to me. We made a game of it; he would remove or replace the names, and I would try to guess which member of my family he was talking about. I’d never laughed so hard in my entire existence.
I didn’t kiss him though, and while we held hands, he never pressed for more. I couldn’t give it to him, not while it was still winter. Not while I was still Hades’s. Being here was enough betrayal on its own. I couldn’t make things worse no matter how tempting Adonis was.
I ached for spring to come. We talked about Mother’s cottage and how we might get one of our own; Adonis had never had a home before, not a proper one he’d chosen for himself, and he relished the idea of seeing the place that had become my summer retreat. As spring neared, I grew giddy with the thought of showing him my home and sharing my summer with him. He, in turn, was never too embarrassed to tell me exactly how excited he was, as well.
That was the best part about being with him—the honesty. The openness. After millennia of enduring the lies and secrets within my family, even down in the Underworld, it was a relief not to question every word he said. He was everything I’d ever wanted, and even if I could only have him as a friend, that would still be more than I’d ever thought I’d have.
But I did want more. I longed to kiss him, to touch him, to bask in his outer beauty as much as I enjoyed the beauty inside. We were perfect together in every way, and as soon as I could, I would steal him from Aphrodite and give him the life he wanted. The life he deserved. The life we both deserved.
Days before the spring equinox, he and I sat together on the beach, our hands clasped as we laughed over a story he’d told me about his childhood. I was oblivious to our surroundings, barely aware of time passing at all, and it was only the look on Adonis’s face that alerted me to the fact that something was wrong.
I turned. Standing in the sand, her arms crossed and a scowl on her pretty little face, was Aphrodite.
Lovely.
“I wasn’t aware it was spring already. What are you doing here?” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“Talking to a friend,” I said, not bothering to match her tone. Adonis knew exactly how I felt about her. “What are you doing here? Cheating on your dozen boyfriends?”
She scoffed. “Only a dozen? You severely underestimate me. Hi, love,” she said to Adonis. “Is Persephone bothering you? I can make her leave, if you’d like.”
I bristled. “Make me leave? How? By cooing at me?”
“Don’t you have a husband to get back to?” she snapped.
“Don’t you?”
She sniffed. “He knows exactly where I am, though I’m willing to bet Hades has absolutely no idea where you are. You do know who she is, don’t you, Adonis? And who her husband is? He controls your afterlife, you know. Are you really willing to risk that?”
Adonis stared at our intertwined fingers. At least he wasn’t trying to make me let go, but he didn’t say anything, either. I squeezed his hand.
“Adonis and I are friends, nothing more.” The urge to rip her hair out twisted inside me, and it took every ounce of my self-control to stay seated. “Though he will be coming to stay with me on the spring equinox.”
“Is that so?” Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. “And who decided that?”
“Adonis did.”
She huffed. “You have no right to come here and steal him like—”
“Like what? Like you stole Hermes?”
She let out a bitter, empty laugh. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because of Hermes? That was eons ago.”
“I’m doing this because Adonis is my friend, and I love him,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster. “It’s his life, and you don’t get a say in it.”
“Adonis, tell her,” demanded Aphrodite, not taking her eyes off me. I glared back. “Adonis.”
To my immense satisfaction, Adonis said nothing. I smirked, even though it was petty, and Aphrodite let out a frustrated screech that startled the seagulls.
“Daddy!” she shrieked, and even though the sky was blue and clear, thunder rumbled through the air. Adonis’s eyes widened, and he started to stand, but I gently tugged on his hand.
“It’s fine,” I said quietly. “He won’t hurt you.” I hoped.
Lightning sizzled on the beach, and in the blink of an eye, Zeus arrived. No chance in hell he would’ve come that quickly if I’d been the one to call. Standing an even distance away from us, he frowned and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Dare I even ask?”
Aphrodite was in tears now, and of course she looked beautiful when she cried. I hated her. “Per-Persephone is trying to steal Adonis from me.”
My mouth dropped open. “Excuse me? He wants to stay with me, and he has every right to choose his own life.”
“He already chose me long before you showed up, you cow.”
“Cow? You vain little—”
“Enough, girls.” Zeus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aphrodite, start at the beginning.”
She sniffed and straightened her shoulders, looking down her nose at me. “Adonis and I’ve been together for ages. We love each other, and we’re perfect together, naturally.”
“If you’re so perfect together, then why do you keep him trapped on this island?” I said.
“I’m not trapping him. I’m protecting him.”
“From what? Other girls who might actually be able to devote themselves to him completely?” I snapped.
“Persephone,” said Zeus in a warning tone, and I huffed. This was completely unfair. Not just for me, but for Adonis, too. It was obvious he wasn’t going to speak up in his own defense, though. Not that I blamed him, of course—my father could be intimidating at the best of times, and I was a goddess. I couldn’t imagine what being in his presence was like for a mortal.
“I keep him here to protect him from Ares,” said Aphrodite. “He’s been acting a little jealous lately, and there’s no point in causing a skirmish.”
As if she hadn’t caused a million of those in her existence. I sandwiched Adonis’s hand in both of mine. Screw Zeus’s commands. I wasn’t going to stay quiet, not about this. “So not only are you keeping him here like some kind of pet, but you’re endangering his life, too. What sort of love is that?”
Aphrodite’s face turned red. “How dare you—”
“Silence, both of you,” said Zeus in a voice that rolled like thunder, and even Aphrodite obeyed. “Adonis—that is your name, yes?”
He swallowed and nodded, averting his eyes. His grip would’ve likely broken my bones if I hadn’t been immortal.
“What is it you choose to do, Adonis?”
I exhaled. A choice. At least Adonis would have that much. I patted his hand. “It’s all right,” I whispered, and across from me, Aphrodite stomped her foot in protest. Too bad.
“I…” He stopped and shook his head, staring at the sand. Why, because he thought Aphrodite would curse him if he didn’t choose her?
Probably. And I wouldn’t put it past her, either. “It’s your life,” I whispered. “Remember that.”
But he still said nothing. At last Zeus ran out of patience. “Very well, then I will decide. In the absence of
the young man’s opinion, I will split his time equally between both of you. He will spend one third of the year with Aphrodite, one third of the year with Persephone and for the final third, he will do what he pleases. Is everyone happy?”
No, not in the least, and judging by the pinched look on Aphrodite’s face, she wasn’t, either. But we both nodded, and Adonis didn’t protest. He barely even blinked.
“So be it. Now, if my beloved daughters do not mind, I have matters much more important than this to attend to.” Without another word, he disappeared, and instantly Adonis relaxed.
I turned to Aphrodite. I could’ve said a million things to her, but instead I blurted, “Why wasn’t Zeus mad that you told Adonis who you are?”
Aphrodite shrugged, clearly put out over having to share him. “Because I’ve been lobbying Daddy to let Adonis join us, of course. But now you had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”
I snorted. “And how did I ruin it? You’re the one who wouldn’t let him make up his own damn mind.”
“Persephone.” Adonis’s voice was hoarse, but at least his grip on my hand wasn’t quite so tight anymore. “I apologize to you both for not speaking up. It is just…”
“No need. We both know Daddy’s a little intimidating sometimes,” said Aphrodite cheerfully, though there was a glint in her eyes as she looked at me. “But now that Daddy’s made a decision, we have to figure out who gets what third.”
I scowled. No doubt she’d try to make me take the winter months. “I want him starting on the spring equinox. The entire spring and first month of summer.”
She eyed me, and I steeled myself for the fight I knew was coming. Instead of objecting, however, she nodded. “Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea. I’ll take the next four months, and then Adonis can do whatever he pleases with the final four.”
I blinked. That was it? Not even a hint of protest? “What’s your game, Aphrodite?”