Chapter Seventy-Three
Persephone
Ihad expected Hades’s war room to be as colossal and domineering as his throne room.
Even his chambers. Yet nothing had prepared me for what it was.
A circular room with more engraved black stone, the domed ceiling boasting a massive brazier lit with blue flame, making the engravings take on a life of their own when they clashed.
Sconces lit with orange flickers along each column around the room.
None of this was what garnered my rapt fascination.
A long table made of only two things: obsidian and bone.
“The bones of my enemies. Of those who dared harm me, this realm, or those I love,” Hades said softly, turning to me to gauge my response.
There were so many. So many enemies. “The Morningstar’s head will feature in the middle, just for you.
” That part of me that relished Minthe’s demise reveled—practically purred—at his words.
The other part of me gritted my teeth in steely resolve.
“When do the others arrive?” I steeled my voice to push through the nerves. “Did Olympus answer your call?”
Hades gestured to the head of the table where his throne stood proudly, carved from the same bones that made up the table.
What took me a moment to realize was that the throne wasn’t solitary.
An equal one rested next to it, also carved from bone and black stone.
This one had flowers carved into the obsidian, the etchings glowing in the firelight.
Upon observing, I realized they weren’t just any flowers—they were Hades' Whisper.
I froze, scared to look at Hades, lest I misread something.
“They arrive the moment you take your seat at my side.” Hades’s voice was a soft murmur as he turned to look at me. A flicker of vulnerability shined there in his gold-flecked eyes. “That is, if you so choose. Alternatively, you may take a seat on the opposite end of the table if you prefer.”
My brow furrowed. “What are you asking me, Hades?”
Silence stretched for a beat. Two. And then Hades took a shuddering breath. A bolstering one. The air shifted, the Underworld quieted, and time converged. The room around us fell away until only we existed. Only us, etched in firelight and shadows.
“I’m asking if you’ll take your seat at my side in the Underworld,” he said finally in a voice like rich velvet.
“Not as a guest. Not a refugee.” He hesitated, shadows clinging to him like a layer of ash, as if to shield him.
“As the Queen of the Underworld. And as mine. I’m asking you to choose this.
” He cleared his throat, his hand scratching the back of his head—the first sign of awkwardness I think I’d ever seen him display.
My heart squeezed for him amidst his proposition, even as it swelled.
His gaze lingered on my lips before rising again to meet mine. “To choose me.”
“Why do you make it sound like I’m being offered up as a sacrifice for eternal damnation?” My smile faltered at his flinch. Barely there, but enough to make my heart twist.
“You are,” he said softly, looking away from me to the thrones wistfully. He was already saying goodbye. Already preparing for my departure. “The mortal world, the other gods, your mother, everyone will call it damnation. I understand the weight of my ask, and I—”
I threw myself into his arms, forcing him to catch me with a surprised laugh. My elbows locked around his neck as he pulled me into him so tightly I wondered if he’d ever let me go.
“Let the world call it damnation. This is the only place I’ve ever felt at home.
You are the place that feels like home.” For the briefest moment, a flicker in time, that composure cracked— relief, wonder, and something that looked an awful lot like the dark side of devotion burned hot enough to put the flames next to us to shame.
Even the surrounding darkness stirred. With my magic, I conjured the perfect piece for this moment: Hades’s Whisper.
A promise that had the sea of emotion in his eyes churning.
“You’ll never be alone again, Hades. If you are buried beneath the weight of the dead, then I’ll be buried with you.
If you carry their silence, their sorrow, their cries, their sentences — I carry them too.
You’ll never bear the dark alone again. And if the Morningstar comes knocking, he’ll feel the brunt of my thorns in defense of this realm. ”
For a heartbeat, he only stared in stunned disbelief. I tightened my hold on him as his expression changed, morphed into reverence, as if the only being he’d ever pray to again was me. Hades exhaled, tension breaking into a deep, rumbling laugh.
“And here I thought I’d have to beg. Or worse—share the throne with Cerberus if you said no. Now, that dog was prepared to beg, I assure you.”
“And you weren’t?” My nails dragged against his scalp through his raven hair. “Ready to beg me, I mean.”
“Are you telling me you want me on my knees again? How romantic.” His eyes caught the fire, lighting up that wicked way that had my stomach flip-flopping.
“I should have prepared a poem. Crowns, thrones, eternal punishment,” his voice dropped an octave, dipping to my ear, “and how well you scream my name.”
My breath failed me, my shocked laugh caught between nerve and desire.
“Do I detect a subtle threat in those words, my king?”
“A promise,” he purred, his hands folding me inward towards him until there was nowhere we didn’t touch. “One I’m quite looking forward to keeping after the council concludes. Are you ready, Queen of the Underworld? Because when I snap my fingers, the others will be seated.”
I nodded and the hush of magic filled the room.