Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
P ersephone
“You must be hungry.” With his hand closed around mine, Hades leads me into yet another fantastical room. There have been so many.
In the infrequent times when I travelled with Mom and Dad, it was always in the dead of winter and outside of farming season. We always went somewhere warm and, often tropical. Mom wanted to sunbathe under the spray of the sea and Dad wanted to experience heat that wasn’t inside the cage of his tractor or inspired by a good, working sweat. So, although I’ve seen it online, I’ve never seen with my own eyes, the ancient architecture that stands in old Roman cities. The cathedrals or English castles that speak of a civilization far more talented than my own when it comes to the crafting of architecture.
This, though—Hades’ palace—stands in competition with what I imagine those buildings might look like. The awe they might command simply by being .
“Come.” Hades pulls a chair from an impossibly long dining table before he takes the head chair for himself. Noc settles on the floor at my side.
“Where are Jas and Prim?” I ask as my fingertips drift over the hair on Noc’s smooth head.
Hades’ voice is deep. Perhaps there is even amusement in it. “I’m sure you have pieced it together by now, that the three together are Cerberus.”
I swallow, my fingertips pausing their drifting pet. I clear my throat. “I hadn’t, actually.”
“In their Cerberus form, they are a deadly beast.” His lips twitch, probably at my wide-eyed horror. “They prefer their dog form.”
“Oh.”
“Jas and Prim are guarding the House of Cerberus. Theirs is the first house the souls who enter Souls Landing pass through in the travel of the Acheron.” Hades’ eyes land on Noc. “Join the girls.”
With a quick lick to my hand, Noc disappears into the shadows.
I tuck my hands into my lap. “Why did you send him away?”
“They’ve been away from their post for too long in the living realm. There is work to catch up on.”
I nod, but my gaze drifts to the room that surrounds me.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I can’t look away from the impossibility before me. The room is cast in a thousand shadows, but the wood table gleams under the firelight of three gothic candelabras that easily stand at more than half my height.
The shuffle of feet draws my gaze from the sharply curling iron to a curvaceous, beautiful woman. She gives the smallest of bows, tightly curled hair falling to cover her chest which has been concealed by a black, high-necked dress in a lovely, Grecian style.
She greets warmly, “My King, it is so good to have you home.” Her eyes shift from Hades to me. Her smile widens and she shuffles closer, her hands knotting at her belly with what I assume is anxious excitement. “My Qu?—”
“Persephone, for now, Maya,” Hades warns rather firmly. My gaze snaps to him at his tone, but not before I see the woman nod obediently. His tone softens, “For now.”
“Of course, my King.”
“Hades, Maya,” he corrects warmly.
Her eyes flick to me and back to him. I think she is meaning to please him and feels that she is failing. A stain of emotion paints her cheeks, the flush of it deepening in her chest. She offers another shallow bow. “Hades. I will have the kitchen prepare you dinner, yes?”
Hades nods. “Thank you.”
With another look to me, another shuffle of her feet as though she wishes to move closer, to speak, she sucks in breath and whirls. For a moment, she is a picture of black material and dark curls before she disappears into the shadows.
Frowning, I give my attention back to Hades. “What was that?”
“She is excited.”
I feel my frown deepen, feel Hades watch as my mind works. And then I place it—Maya’s name. “Maya—as in the Maya who kept your penthouse in the Tower?”
Hades sits back in his high-backed, black velvet chair. The sharp wood carving that frames the cushion is thick and vicious. He is the picture of darkness. Everything about the power that lurks under his skin, inside his body, says he is a threat. He watches me with exposing intensity, fishing every emotion that dares swim through me from the depths only to fillet it to the core—forcing me to see all that lingers inside.
Yet somehow, I know I have never been safer than I am now, with him.
He angles his head just slightly, those dark eyes seeming to see beneath his shirt I wear. “She is the same Maya who tends to my earthly residence, yes.”
Earthly. I’m still not certain I am not dreaming.
And yet…
“How can that be? If what you say is true, and we’re now in the Underworld, how…” The table beneath my fingertips is smooth and cool to the touch, even under the glow of firelight. Even though it is all so fantastical, it feels so real. So tangible. “Can you just—I don’t know—pop between realms?”
His lips twitch. I don’t know how, shrouded in shadows, he can be even more alluring than before. Maybe because this is his natural environment. The predator is always more powerful in his natural element.
“No, I don’t simply pop between realms. There was once a time when I possessed the strength to do such a thing, but teleportation between the realms was lost to me when you were stolen from me.” I shift in discomfort at his words. They tug at something deep inside my mind. Something that is there and not there, but I shiver all the same. I still can’t recall how I came to be here. The events that transpired to bring me to this place. “I use ancient portals to move between the Underworld and the Middle Realm, also known as the Living Realm or Earth.”
“So, this isn’t Earth?”
“This is a realm of its own.”
“But—I thought it was under the earth?”
“It is, technically.” Hades’ chest expands with a breath. “What you know as the earth—the globe—is a—” He pauses to smirk. “A flat and layered thing. Each realm is a new layer. Although they are entirely separate entities, the laws of nature for each specifically different, there are points of connection within these layers. Some of these layers even bleed into the others, overlapping.”
“Overlapping?”
Hades nods. “Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes never leave me as he asks, “How do you see Olympus? In your studies, how have you come to understand it?”
He watches as I wet my lips, drawing breath as I assemble my thoughts. “Olympus was thought to exist at the very top of Mount Olympus. It’s where the Gods—Zeus, and the other Olympians lived.”
Hades arches a brow. “You believe that all the Gods lived together at the top of a single mountain?”
“Well…” I shrug. “Technically, the Gods aren’t real so…”
“We’re very real, Persephone.” Hades’ voice is dripping with darkness. “I know you know that. Deep inside, you know this is real. I am real.”
I exhale a shuddering breath, then draw back my shoulders. “What is Olympus, then?”
“Olympus is a realm just like the Underworld. There is a portal into that realm, however, on the top of Mount Olympus. And it is there, through that portal, that many of the Gods reside.” He smirks. “So, in that you are correct.”
I narrow my eyes. “People hike that mountain all the time. You’re telling me there is a portal into another realm and no one has ever discovered it?”
“Humans have a funny way of seeing only that which they want to see.”
I huff. “That’s a cryptic reply.”
“There is nothing cryptic about it. It is true. The portal is there, where it has been for thousands of years, undiscovered.”
“How has no one accidentally fallen into it?”
His lips quirk. “Oh, I’m sure a few have.”
Something cold washes over my skin. Goosebumps rise and I clamp my teeth against a shiver. “So, it’s just sitting there open for anyone to fall into?”
“Not technically.”
“Hades,” I snap.
His smirk pulls into a grin. “The portal on Mount Olympus shifts with the sun in the sky. It must be entered at the right angle for the time of the day in order to access Olympus. All souls are formed in Olympus, divided in the fall to Earth, struck by a bolt delivered by Zeus.”
“Wait, what?” I’ve heard the myth. That all souls are created whole but were divided—torn apart—and forced to search the globe for their other half.
It had always given me pause, the myth that is the splitting of souls. But to be told there is truth to the story—to the horror, I just…
I don’t know what to think.
“Why do you think infants enter this world crying, little goddess? They are grieving the loss of their other half.” Hades sighs. “Zeus is a sadistic God. But he hides his vengeful tendencies well from those who admire him.”
“Why would he do something like that?” I feel horror-struck.
“He is vengeful.”
“But what could have befallen him to make him do something so terrible to all the souls he helps to create? The souls he is supposed to love?”
“Perhaps he bargained away the piece of his soul in which compassion and honor lived.” Hades leans forward in his seat, his eyes sliding from me to the shadows where Maya appears carrying a large, covered tray. He smiles kindly at her, a softness overcoming his expression that I’ve never seen before. It reminds me of the way a father might look at his child. Tender and loving. “Thank you. It smells delicious.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Linus.” I hear Maya’s reply, but I can’t tear my eyes from Hades. I’m struck by the emotions in his face. The tender care. The love.
If this place is real—more than a figment of my own insanity—then the man before me truly is the God of the Dead. A being capable of monstrous things. A ruler of Tartarus. And yet he looks at his people with the love of a father. My brain can’t quite cope.
The tray slides onto the table. The scent of something savory permeates the air. I hear Maya’s softly shuffling footsteps over stone, and then there is only silence.
Hades lifts plates from the tray. Perfectly cooked vegetables, fresh, steaming bread with a dollop of melting herb-infused, whipped butter, and a perfectly grilled chicken breast drizzled in a creamy sauce sprinkled with sundried tomatoes.
“Eat, little goddess.” His voice is low with just enough of an edge to call my eyes to his.
“I’ve never seen you look at someone like that before.” My words are so soft, for a moment, I’m not confident he heard me speak at all.
Hades cocks his head just slightly. “Like what?”
“Like you love them. Deeply.” A small, nervous laugh escapes. I lift my fork in an attempt to draw attention elsewhere. But I can’t help myself from adding, “You’ve never looked at anyone we’ve encountered together like that before.”
“You mean I’ve never looked at the living souls on Earth like that before?” Hades asks, and I nod. “I do not feel for the souls above the way that I feel for the souls who linger here in the Underworld.”
“What do you mean, linger?”
“The Underworld is a complex place, Persephone. And the realms are a complex system.”
“Will you explain it to me?”
“Yes. In time.” He slices a thick piece of chicken and my stomach growls loudly. “But now you need to eat.”
I want to argue, want to tell him that I need answers—all the answers right now . But he’s not wrong, I need to eat. I’m terribly hungry, and the scent of the dish is more than tempting.
Sinking the prongs of my fork into a perfectly cooked, blue-toned baby potato, I lift it to my lips. Then I stop.
“Is something wrong with the potato, Persephone?”
My heart is drumming so loudly now, I’m confident he can hear it. My eyes drop to the blue potato, glistening with oil and herbs, to the plate. The food is sumptuous, tempting. My gaze lifts to the tray where dessert sits in two crystal cups.
It is a layered cake treat topped with fresh, juicy pomegranate seeds in a bed of deep red jelly.
I lower my fork to the table and force past my suddenly bone-dry throat, “Pomegranates.”
Hades looks to the treat and back to me. “It was once your favorite.” He lowers his fork and sits back in his chair, his large hands resting on the table. “I trapped you here in the Underworld with me once. Tricked you with enchanted food.” His chair pushes back over stone as he rises. My heart quivers. “I will never trick or scheme to keep you again.” He stops moving beside my chair, his dark eyes fixed on mine. He leans over the table and dunks his finger into the treat, scooping jelly and plump red seeds. “I will never deceive you again, as long as I live.” He brings his finger to my lips and begs quietly. Roughly. “Trust me, little goddess.”
I don’t know what drives me to do it.
I know the myth. The horrors of the stories that survived thousands and thousands of years. The trickery and deceit. The rape…
And yet, there was love within the darkness of their collision. I know it in a way that is deeper than certainty. Perhaps it was misconstrued and shrouded in confusion. The shrapnel of messy misunderstandings, but it was love, nonetheless.
I open my mouth and draw his finger inside. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck the once damning fruit from the finger of the God of the Dead. An explosion of sweet tartness floods my mouth in the moment before I swallow, sucking his finger clean all the way to the tip.
And that’s when it happens. I see the flames I’ve seen so many times before ignite the depths of his eyes. At the same time, in a hearth crafted of smoked iron and what looks to be bones of ebony, the same flames that dance dangerously in his eyes ignite behind him as though brought to life by ancient magic.
Warmth floods the space as Hades stands, unmoving. His finger still glistens, wet from where I sucked it clean. His jaw is tense with restrained need I wish he would succumb to.
My belly aches with a need more intense than any craving I’ve ever experienced. I want him to snap and toss the food to the floor, clearing the table so that he might feast on me instead.
I want it so badly, the picture of it is more than a vision in my mind. I can see it clearly, feel his lips on my skin, between my legs…
I squeeze my thighs together in my seat. Hades’ nostrils flare. His eyes drop. He swallows, the apple in his throat bobbing once. He clears his throat, and although he blinks, the fire doesn’t vanish like all the times before. This time, I don’t explain it away as a trick of my unreliable mind.
He lowers back to the seat at the head of the table and, far more calmly than I feel inside, he lifts his fork. “I need you to eat, Persephone.”
“Why?” My question sounds on a croak.
“Because I need to ravish you.” His eyes pin mine, drinking in the heat that blooms under my skin. I wish I could blame it on the flames that seem to stretch for us from the hearth. His voice drops, the pitch alluring as it drips with the promise of decadent sin. “I’ve waited for thousands of years to have you here again in my home. In our home. In my bed. The restraint I cling to is exceedingly thin, little goddess. And I do not wish to hurt you or take more from you than you wish to give.” He nods to my plate as I struggle to find breath. “So, I need you to keep your strength. I need you to eat.”
I lift my fork once again and take a bite.
Hades’ pleased smile lights an entirely new flame. This one in the deepest parts of me. So deep, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to snuff it out.