Chapter Forty
Hades
If Minthe thought she could spill Persephone’s blood and escape the consequences, she was further gone than I’d thought.
I watched from my throne as she answered my summons, all smiles, giggles, and light steps.
Her laugh rang through the hall, a sound too bright, too forced against the harshness of black stone.
My eyes narrowed on her too triumphant face.
Her smile dimmed but didn’t fade entirely when her eyes found me simmering on my throne. Heat rose from the force of my fury.
“Do you know why I summoned you?” I wasn’t sure if it were my sharp tone or my glare that stopped her approach, her face falling, her playful smile turning brittle and shaky. She recovered quickly, donning her practiced smile, her brows knitting together, audacious. Outraged. Insulted.
“I assume you mean about my warning Persephone to stay away from you?” She inspected her nails, carefully avoiding my gaze. “I did you a favor. She’s basically mortal. A mortal canvas stretched over a pretty face. A lovely flower that is waiting to wilt. And when she does, I’ll still be here.”
My gaze sharpened, every bit as deadly as the bident in my hand. At my silence, Minthe had enough good sense to shut her mouth and look nervous, her eyes darting around for an escape.
“You dare speak of her,” fury strained my voice, my control, “after you spilled her blood.”
Minthe flinched, but like a weed that wouldn’t die, straightened to mask her fear with what might almost be bravado.
A soft pout formed on her lips as she sashayed slower, her hips deliberately languishing every movement that made me cringe.
“I only showed her how weak she is. The cruel truth she was bound to learn anyway. That she won’t survive here.
And when she’s gone, my bed will warm you as it has before. ”
Shadows stretched, deepening, searching, coiling around her feet like lazy serpents, their intent a warning. An omen. My magic cracked like thunder, an echo across the great hall vibrating the air.
“I should rip your name from every tongue in this realm and the mortal one.” Each word I spoke dripped with malice. “I should salt the ground where you stand, lest your venom infect anyone else.”
Minthe swallowed thickly, her brave mask faltering.
“You don’t mean that. There’s an ocean of silence here, and I’m drowning in it, Hades.
I miss you.” Minthe’s voice was softer than before.
Flatter. The same soft that accompanies sadness and shattered hope.
“Please, don’t give up on this. On us. Tell me what I can do to fix us. ”
“If you test me again, you will find I very much do mean it, Minthe.” My shadows blocked her escape, coiling around her feet, snapping at them until she stumbled back in a heap, terrified and bone white.
“I have tolerated you out of respect for our shared past. I warn you this final time, do not mistake memory for mercy. Or for affection.” My next words were carved in iron.
They were law, to which all would yield, especially Minthe.
“If you so much as breathe in her direction again, I will not stop until the realms above and below forget you ever existed. If you touch her again, you breathe on borrowed time.”
For the first time I watched as her obsession danced with the fear flickering in her eyes. I grinned at her, feral. Conniving. Wrathful, letting silence stretch for long heartbeats, holding her gaze. With a toss of my hand, I wordlessly dismissed her—more final than any physical blow.
I watched her go, expecting to feel a hint of pity. Of remorse.
None came. Anyone who harmed Persephone deserved no pity or remorse.
A dark protectiveness welled within me, making my shadows writhe. My feet moved before conscious thought made the order. I needed to see her, the demand in my soul pure and overwhelming.