16. Persephone
PERSEPHONE
P ersephone realized, with a start, that they were no longer in the cold, dark cavern, but in a bedroom—a large, lavish room adorned with fine furniture that could only belong in the Underworld. The walls were draped with rich, dark fabrics, and a massive four-poster bed dominated the center of the room, its frame carved with intricate designs that seemed to shift and move in the flickering candlelight.
A magnificent vase stood proudly on a dresser, sporting a huge bouquet of violet flowers, similar to the ones in the grotto where Persephone had bathed.
“Is this your room?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Hades made a low humming sound, his eyes scanning the room as if seeing it for the first time in ages. “Well,” he said, a hint of something soft in his voice, “it is our room. You decorated it. ”
The statement hit her like a dart to the heart, sharp and unyielding.
Our room.
The words echoed in her mind, bringing with them a rush of emotions she wasn’t prepared to face.
She had decorated this room. This place, so dark and hauntingly beautiful, had been touched by her hand?
Persephone’s heart skipped a beat as she looked at Hades, his expression filled with a mixture of resolve and something else—something that made her stomach twist with apprehension.
He was about to speak, to tell her the truth she had been so desperate to hear, but as his mouth opened, a surge of fear rose within her, and she couldn’t bear it.
Not yet.
“Wait,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she held up a hand to stop him. “I’m… I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the truth.”
Hades paused, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied her, but he nodded, his mouth closing as the tension in the room remained thick.
Persephone nodded and turned her attention to more pressing matters.
“I need to clean your wounds,” she announced, walking to the nightstand.
She picked up a soft cloth and a silver basin filled with water. Then she joined Hades who had reclined in an armchair .
Then she unraveled the bandage on his shoulder with care. But when her eyes fell on the blood-stained area, where the jagged wound had been, she blinked.
The gash, which had been so deep and raw, was almost completely gone. There wasn’t even a scar left behind, just a patch of pink skin as though it had newly grown.
She reached out, her fingers brushing against the smooth skin.
“It’s like you were never wounded at all,” she said in awe.
Hades smirked, a hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “You believe a few rocks can destroy a god? That’s cute. I just needed some time to heal is all.”
Persephone’s hand froze on his shoulder as she processed his words.
Of course, she knew he was a god—she had known that from the beginning—but seeing the evidence of his immortality before her eyes, the way his body had healed without a trace of the injuries that should have been fatal, made it all the more real.
She hesitated, her fingers lingering on the edge of Hades's cloak before she gently pulled it off his shoulders, leaving him shirtless.
The sight of him—so strong, so unearthly—made her breath catch in her throat. She knew she shouldn’t be affected by his beauty. This was the man who had caused her so much pain and confusion, yet she couldn’t help the way her heart fluttered, the way her fingers tingled as she touched him.
He was a god, but he was also… something else.
Something she couldn’t quite define.
Trying to push the unsettling thoughts away, Persephone dipped the cloth into the bowl of water.
Several drops landed like kisses on Hades's abs, and the sight sent Persephone into another vision.
They were still in the same room, but the fireplace in the corner roared to life and crackled.
Hades lay on the chair, in the same position. But he wore nothing but soft, black shorts.
Persephone was holding a goblet of wine, and she almost didn’t recognize her own laugh as she poured several drops over Hades glistening abs.
Then, a flood of heat rushed through Persephone as she lowered to his body. She trailed her tongue over the defined muscles of his torso, licking up the bitter wine.
The muscles contracted beneath her tongue, and Hades reached round and fisted her hair.
“You bad girl,” he growled, but when Persephone looked up at him, he had a broad grin on his face. He leaned forward and held her chin as he kissed her. “You wicked, bad girl. You’re making a mess.”
Persephone laughed again, dark and sultry. Then she poured more wine, drenching Hades's upper body in red. She settled in his lap and watched as the liquid soaked into his shorts.
“Fear not, my love,” she purred into his ear. “I can be extremely proficient at cleaning up with my mouth.”
Hades moaned and leaned in to kiss her again .
Smash.
The vision faded, and Persephone stood, blinking as her heart jumped wildly in her chest.
The bowl had dropped from her hand and broken into pieces on the stone floor.
“I’m––I’m sorry,” she spluttered, looking at the broken bowl in shock.
But the thing that she was more surprised about was the pool of heat between her legs.
She bit her lip with shame as she glanced at Hades, who sat upright with a frown.
“It’s all right,” he said, snapping his fingers. In an instant, the bowl appeared whole again and filled with water. “You see? No harm done.”
Persephone couldn’t breathe.
Was the vision an illusion? Or a hidden memory?
She swallowed hard and shut her eyes.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Her heart bled as her sweet memories of her life with Adonis became warped and hazy. Like she’d been in a dream.
And now she was plagued with visions. Of a person she did not know.
Both visions showed her as confident, daring…perhaps even reckless. And they came to her when she was in the Underworld.
There was something about the dark realm that awakened forbidden thoughts and…desires too.
She opened her eyes and quieted the thoughts in her mind .
She was not ready to face whatever was happening.
She couldn’t afford to lose herself in these thoughts, not now. There was still so much she didn’t understand, so much she needed to piece together. But for now, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.
“Are you well?” Hades asked as she edged closer to him once more.
The way he looked at her with concern made something swell in her chest. But she pushed the feeling away and forced a smile.
She worked in silence, her hands moving mechanically as she cleaned the blood from his skin.
Hades watched her, his gaze steady and intense, but he didn’t say anything, allowing her the space she needed.
The silence between them was thick with unspoken words, the air charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to break.
As she wiped away the last traces of blood from the side of Hades's handsome face, Persephone couldn’t help but steal glances at him. At the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin.
At the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, framing his chiseled features.
He was beautiful, there was no denying that, but it was a beauty that was almost too perfect, too otherworldly. It made her feel small and fragile in comparison, like a delicate flower that could be crushed at any moment .
And yet, there was something in his eyes, something raw and vulnerable, that made her heart ache. It was the same look he had given her in the cavern, the same look that had made her question everything she thought she knew. The love she had seen there had been undeniable, and it had shaken her to her core.
But love, she reminded herself, could be as much a weapon as it was a gift. It was a double-edged sword, one that could cut both ways. It could twist and turn, deceive and destroy.
And she didn’t know if she could trust it—not when it came from Hades, the man who had brought her to this dark, terrifying world.
After she finished her task, Persephone set the cloth aside and sat back, her hands resting in her lap as she studied Hades.
He seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant as he stared at the flickering candles that cast dancing shadows across the room.
She wondered what he was thinking, if he was remembering the life they had supposedly shared, the life she couldn’t recall.
The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, until it became too much for her to bear.
“Hades,” she said, her voice breaking the stillness. “You said you wanted to show me something. Why did you bring me here?”
He turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, she thought he might ignore the question, but then he sighed, the sound filled with a weariness that spoke of centuries of burden.
“Because this is where you belong,” he said simply, as if that answered everything.
But it didn’t. It only raised more questions, questions that gnawed at her insides, refusing to be silenced.
How could she belong in a place like this? How could she belong to him ?
She opened her mouth to ask, to demand the answers she so desperately needed, but the words caught in her throat, tangled up with the fear that had been growing inside her since the moment they had escaped the cavern.
What if the truth was more than she could handle? What if it shattered everything she thought she knew about herself, about the life she had lived?
Could she live with the truth?
And yet, she couldn’t keep running from it. She couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that she was still the woman who had walked hand in hand with Adonis through sunlit woods.
That woman was slipping away, lost in the shadows of this dark, terrible place.
But for now, she needed time—time to think, to process, to come to terms with the reality that was slowly unfolding around her.
The truth could wait, just a little longer.
A sudden, horrible thought struck her. “Georgette and Serena… are they here?”
“They do not need us anymore,” Hades replied .
Persephone clutched her face. “So… they died?” Tears prickled her eyes. “How do you know?”
Hades stood and held out his hand for Persephone to take.
She eyed his bare chest and the ink tattoos running down his muscular arms. She carefully took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
“No, they’re not dead. I would sense them here if they were.”
Persephone’s breath caught in her chest in horror. “Then they are still trapped in that cave! We must go back and–” Hades marched across the room and waved a hand over the large ornate mirror hanging on the wall. Swirls of clouds formed into the shape of a crow. He murmured something incoherent, and the crow flew off deeper inside the magical mirror.
“What was that about?”
Hades waved a hand, and the mirror turned back to glass. “You need not worry about your friends. I’ve sent a message.”
“To whom?” Persephone pressed, searching Hades's face for a clue, but he was giving nothing away and for whatever reason, he was not willing to divulge any more information.
“Don’t worry, my love. Right now you need to regain your strength. You look exhausted.”
He walked behind her as she glanced in the mirror.
He was right. Dark circles appeared under her eyes, and her cheeks lost their usual rosy shade .
Then she froze as Hades's warm hands clutched her hips as he approached her from behind. The graze of his stubble tickled her cheek as he leaned in.
She thought about pushing him away, but her body had other ideas.
Instead, she melted under his touch. It was as though he knew exactly how to touch her to elicit pleasure.
She hated herself for falling for his trap.
And if it was this easy for him to charm her, then it was most likely that all of this was part of his trick. After all, this was exactly what Adonis had warned her about.
What if the other gods were in on his game? Was it so unreasonable to believe that Hades could enlist help from others to keep the ruse?
Hades's hands roamed over her hips, and he lightly dragged his knuckles down the side of her neck.
The touch sent shivers through her. Ones that were not entirely unpleasant.
She bit her lip as a new question sprang to mind.
How was it possible that whenever Hades touched her, she felt like she was home?
A wave of tiredness swept over her body, and her head rolled back and rested on Hades's shoulder.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she moaned.
Hades carefully dragged his hands up and down her arms, shushing her .
The sensations filled her with a sense of calm, like her nervous system was finally settling down after being on high alert for so long.
“You just need to sleep, my love,” he murmured into her ear.
His breath warmed her neck, and the brush of his lips against her skin sent a zing down her body.
Before Persephone could argue, he’d scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the room.
Her mind spun as she was tucked into her enemy’s bed.
She took in a shaky breath, confused at how pleasant the smell was. The sheets had a familiar masculine, salty scent. The kind of scent that she wanted to bury her face into the pillow and sniff forever.
“What spell is this?” she murmured as the sleepiness intensified.
Hades perched on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “What do you mean?”
Persephone’s breaths slowed, and she could no longer open her eyes. “I feel so spent, like I shall sleep for one hundred years.”
Hades's thumb grazed her brow and trailed down to her lips. “Perhaps the adrenaline has worn off, now that you are safe.”
Persephone could only reply with a quiet, “Mmn.”
Her mind was a mess. Conflicting images of Adonis and Hades flashed across her mind like a fever dream, and she couldn’t grasp what was real and what was fiction.
Was she safe?
She once thought she would do anything to get Adonis back, but the more time she spent with Hades, the more she questioned herself.
Was this a sign that Hades, the great trickster, was winning after all? Or was everything she thought she knew about her beloved Adonis a terrible lie?
Either option was too ugly to think about.
But the last thought that crawled into her mind was how nice it was to feel Hades stroking her hair as she slowly succumbed to a strange sleep.