Chapter 12
Persephone
As soon as Persephone appeared in the Underworld, she drew Hermes into a hug.
“I missed you,” she said.
“I missed you too,” he said. “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas.”
“The only way you could have ruined Christmas, Hermes, is if you hadn’t been here to celebrate with us.”
He pulled back. “Thanks, Sephy.”
Hecate clapped her hands. “All right, out. I must prepare the queen for her entrance.”
“See you soon, Sephy!” he said as he left the suite, bells jingling with each step.
Persephone smoothed her hands over her belly as it tightened. She blew out a breath. It felt like her usual contractions, the ones she’d had yesterday but a little more intense.
“Is an outfit change necessary, Hecate?” Persephone asked. “I adore this one already.”
“I’m just changing out the bow, dear,” said the goddess, manifesting a glittering gold ribbon.
As Hecate finished tying the bow, Persephone felt another cramp low in her belly, the pain ebbing to a dull ache that rested in her lower back.
“Are you all right?” Hecate asked.
“Yes,” Persephone said, unable to hide the strain in her voice.
The goddess placed her hands on her belly, gaze rising to hers.
“The babies are almost ready,” she said.
Persephone’s heart fluttered. She’d suspected, but it was different having it confirmed.
“Are you saying I will be a mother on Christmas?”
Hecate took Persephone’s face between her warm hands. “I would say so, my love. How do you feel?”
“I’m okay,” she said. Right now, she felt it was better to move than to stay still. “I want to see to my guests until…until it’s too much.”
The goddess nodded and they left her chambers.
The roar of the crowd grew louder as they neared the foyer. The main doors were open to the cold night, and souls and gods lined the walls. As Persephone passed, they bowed and rang bells. Children fell in line behind her as they made their way to the ballroom where Hades waited.
He was in his god form, horns on display.
As soon as his bright blue eyes met hers, she was overwhelmed by another contraction.
A moan bubbled in the back of her throat, and she winced, a reaction that did not escape her husband’s notice.
She wondered how he was able to look alarmed, concerned, and stern at the same time.
“You’re hurting,” he said.
“I’m fine,” she assured, breathless.
Hades looked at Hecate. “If she says she’s fine, she is,” said the goddess, amused. “She will tell you when she isn’t, trust me.”
Hades’s gaze returned to her.
“Do you want to sit?” he asked.
“It feels better to move right now.”
His jaw was tense, but he nodded and offered his hand. On the other side of the doors, they heard Hermes heralding.
“Listen up, you festive fuuhh—” He hesitated and then tried again, likely realizing that children were present. “Listen up, you jolly jingle bells!”
Hades groaned. “Why did you tell him he could announce us?”
“He always complains his title as God of Heralding is obsolete,” she said.
“I think there is a reason for that,” he said.
The doors opened to the ballroom, which was also crowded with guests, the large space divided into quadrants. One for the children, one for food and dining, one for dancing, and one for games, but as she and Hades entered, everyone stood to bow and cheer.
At the center of the crowd, Persephone greeted her friends.
Yuri and Alma wore matching tulle skirts and had holly in their hair.
Aphrodite wore a short red dress trimmed in white fur while Hephaestus had transformed his usual gold prosthetic into a festive, red and green stripe.
Ares wore a red and green plaid suit and looked relatively pleased, though that was likely because he was currently being fawned over by a group of souls.
Then she came to Hyacinth and Apollo and hugged each of them, holding onto Apollo longest. She could see and feel their sadness, and it hurt her heart deeply, but she knew what was to come was best.
“I love you so much and I am so proud of you,” she said to Apollo.
“Thanks, Sephy,” he said, giving her a final squeeze before joining Hyacinth for a dance. She watched them go, glad that they had chosen to fully live these final moments together.
She turned her attention to the crowd, searching for one familiar face she did not see.
“Where is Lexa?” Persephone asked, looking at Hades who remained by her side, her constant shadow.
“Thanatos has organized a surprise for her,” he said.
Persephone’s mouth parted and she turned toward him fully. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“No,” he said. “Because you would have told her and that isn’t fair.”
“I can keep secrets!”
“That is not what I am arguing,” he said. “Though, you must admit that it is difficult for you to keep secrets when you are trying to console a friend.”
Persephone pressed her lips together and then asked, “Well, what is it? The surprise?”
“I didn’t ask,” he said.
“What do you mean you didn’t ask?”
Hades just stared.
“Weren’t you curious?”
“No,” Hades said, dead serious.
“Gods,” she said, rubbing her temple. “Men.”
“If I had known you wanted details, I would have asked,” he offered.
“Hades, darling,” she said, straightening the lapels of his jacket, “I will always want details.”
His brows rose in amusement.
“Noted,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
As the celebration continued, the time between Persephone’s contractions shortened and grew in intensity. She distracted herself by making rounds through the ballroom and checking on her guests, enjoying the time she spent eavesdropping on a game of most like to which Hecate had organized.
“Who is most likely to get caught by a giant and end up in a jar?” Aphrodite asked, reading from a notecard.
“Ares,” everyone said in unison.
The only one who did not seem bored with the questions was Hecate, who chuckled quietly at the end of the table. She had also brought a guest, a fluffy, white cat she was calling Snowball.
“That isn’t a human, is it, Hecate?” Persephone had asked, suspicious.
She’d laughed, which had not exactly made Persephone feel better. “No, not this one,” she said. “He is a rescue.”
“Aren’t these questions supposed to be hypothetical?” Ares asked, arms crossed over his large chest.
“Where’s the fun in that?” asked Hecate.
“The fun is that it didn’t actually happen,” said Ares.
“What would you prefer to be asked?” Hecate countered.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe…who is more likely to fuck a shovel or fall in an endless pit?”
“Those are obvious too,” Hecate huffed. “Hermes and Hermes.”
“Hey!” Hermes said, offended. “I would not fall in a pit. I have wings. Duh.”
As the Ascension approached, the ballroom began to clear with the souls and gods gathering outside.
Hades and Persephone joined them in the courtyard.
She had hoped the biting cold would provide a distraction from the contractions, but they had moved higher.
She blew out a breath, hands smoothing over her stomach.
Her head was starting to hurt, and her mouth was a little dry.
“Are you well?” Hades asked, looking down at her. She couldn’t place his expression, though she could feel his anxiety.
“Yeah,” she said. “Though I think I will be unwell soon.”
He pulled her close, and it grew quiet and dark, the glow of Christmas lights dimming to almost nothing when Apollo’s choir began to sing.
The first few notes were haunting and ethereal, very different from what they’d heard before the Christmas tree lighting in the Upperworld. Persephone struggled to hold back tears, but so did everyone else, the transition between each song filled with the sound of sniffling.
At the conclusion, Apollo turned from his choir and went to Hyacinth. Locked in each other’s embrace, the soul began to glow. When he grew too bright, Apollo pulled back, watching as Hyacinth became light. He held on until he was nothing more than a shower of sparks, rising into the night air.
Persephone wanted to go to Apollo and provide comfort, but that wasn’t possible because at that very moment, she felt a warm gush between her legs.
“Hades,” she said. “It’s time.”