Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
Persephone
The Color of Reckoning
I’d never worn red before. The color of blood. Of war. Of vengeance.
Tonight, it was the color of my reckoning.
I’d discarded the bubblegum-pink gown and rose mask Mother chose. She would be furious, but she’d gone ahead to the celebration while I insisted on arriving later. On my own terms.
The moment I stepped into the banquet hall of The Paramount, every gaze snapped toward me. I lifted my chin and let them look, my crimson gown flowing like liquid flame. Jet-black gloves reached halfway to my elbows—black for the shadows of my realm, red for the power I now carried.
Here, even in the heart of enemy territory, I felt completely in my element.
I swept my eyes across the crowd. The party roared around me—music swelled, gods and goddesses danced and laughed, glasses lifted in perfumed toasts. Their voices were too loud, their gestures too broad.
All of it was a performance. They were beautiful, every one of them.
And utterly rotten.
Only a couple of days ago, they’d watched me fight in the arena. Placed bets on my survival. Hungered for my gruesome end. They’d cheered when I fell and sighed when I rose, turning my agony into their sport.
Now they celebrated. Not my victory over the curse. Not my survival. But theirs. They toasted the spectacle of my mate being publicly rejected and discarded while I walked away at my mother’s side.
They believed they had won.
The music rose, shifting into a waltz. Zeus moved toward me with unmistakable purpose. Other gods converged as well, closing in from all sides. Everyone wanted a piece of the returned goddess. Everyone wanted to say they had touched the one Hades could not keep.
Across the hall, Mother watched from behind her mask of wheat stalks and autumn leaves, worry plain in her stance.
She had stopped Hades from having me, but that did not mean she wished for anyone else to lay hands on me either.
After tonight, she would try to hide me away again. To lock me back in a gilded cage.
I kept my fury at bay as Zeus strolled toward me as if I were his trophy, his right as King of Gods.
I wanted to claw his face to bloody ribbons. To tear that smug assurance from his features.
Then Sebastian was there. He cut in smoothly, whisking me away before Zeus could reach me. I was grateful, in part. Even through gloves, the thought of the God of Thunder, my immortal enemy, touching me turned my stomach.
Sebastian, not Apollo, was the friend who had switched sides, who had saved me. Apollo was the enemy who had watched me die for sport.
We danced, exchanging words that sounded casual but carried weight beneath the surface. Then the floor shuddered.
Shouts of alarm rose around us. It seemed even gods felt uneasy floating this high when the foundation itself began to sway.
Beneath my mask, I smirked as panic washed over those perfect, polished faces.
Death was coming. Literally.
My mate had come for me. Again. Always.
We spilled onto the open rooftop terrace, a vast extension of the banquet hall. It was like standing on the very spine of the sky, clouds streaming beneath our feet, the wind whipping at our hair and garments.
Beyond the city’s gleaming edge, past the long golden bridge that spanned the river of gems, the banners of the Underworld snapped in the charged air. Pomegranates and skulls wreathed in hellfire. Black and crimson against the shining horizon.
A sea of demons, monsters, and the risen dead slammed against the warded gate. The cacophony carried even to this height: metal on magic, fists on barriers, the wailing of spirits denied entry.
The godly soldiers loosed volleys of flaming arrows into the horde. But Hades was shrewd. He had placed the dead in the vanguard. How do you kill what is already slain? Arrows struck, reducing the dead flesh to ash, and they simply rose again.
An endless, grinding tide.
And at the forefront stood the God of Death.
Clad in black armor, shadows coiled around him, hellfire crowning his form. Death power radiated from him in waves, a pressure I could feel even from this distance. Every flaming arrow shattered against his shields.
This was what the Olympians truly feared. This was why they had schemed with curses and politics to shackle him.
Our gazes locked across the impossible distance. He found me instantly in the crowd of hundreds, knowing exactly where I stood.
Everyone in the background vanished. The noise, the panic, the sea of gods all faded into silence.
There was only him. Only me. Our connection lit up, bright and fierce.
My heart clenched with painful longing.
The last time we parted, he had absorbed the blow of my public abandonment. He believed I blamed him for every tragedy, every death. He carried a guilt that was never his to bear.
And still, he would not let me go. He would never stop. He would chase me across worlds, through life and death, to this gilded prison at the end of the sky.
The infinite love he had for me was so deep he’d not accept refusal. Not from the Fates. Not from Zeus or my mother.
Not even from me.
A large flock of ravens swept across the bridge, their black wings smothering the golden light. From beyond the gate, the wailing of the dead increased—a chorus of the damned, demanding entry to the immortal city.
The gods around me growled curses at Hades. Savage. Barbarian. Monster. They hurled every insult, their fear sour in the air.
These entitled beings never considered their own cruelty. They only saw others as tools to be used, discarded, destroyed for amusement.
They’d pissed off the wrong kind of power, and they believed it was the God of Death.
They did not yet understand it was me.
“I can be the messenger,” said Sebastian. “What would you like me to tell him, Bloom?”
“Tell my love I’m waiting for him to open the final bottle of Nyx’s Vintage, please.”
The Sun God vanished in a flash of golden light.
Demeter shoved through the crowd, her fingers clamping around my arm.
“That delinquent, despicable villain!” Mother hissed. “Why can’t he just give up? Why can’t he accept defeat?”
“He has always craved me,” I said. “He’s always loved me more than anything.”
Mother snorted. “He knows nothing of love. He wouldn’t recognize it if it slapped him in that arrogant face of his.”
“His face is quite handsome, Mother,” I said. “In fact, he’s darkly gorgeous, just my type. And I love him in return with every piece of my heart.”
She gasped, her grip on my arm tightening to the point of pain. “No. You cannot mean that. He’s more beast than man. He’s the darkest nightmare!”
“Not to me.” I smirked behind the mask. “Never to me.”
“You cannot be serious! He is so twisted! Look at this obsession—an eon of curses could not break it. He is the most wretched stalker in all of existence!”
“Issue a court restraint, then,” I said lightly, purely to watch her unravel. “But I rather enjoy his attention. It’s an acquired taste.”
“Persephone!” Her voice cracked with pure outrage.
“Hades was never the monster you warned me of,” I said, my voice hardening.
“He was never the sadist you claimed. He never pursued other women—they threw themselves at him, yet he never went astray. Not once, across millennia.” I turned to face her fully.
“Name one other god with that kind of loyalty. Just one. And I will forsake him forever.”
Demeter’s lips pinched into a bloodless line. She could not. We both knew it.
“Have you forgotten how this began?” she scolded. “He kidnapped you! He sullied you! He forced you to be his—”
“His whore?” I finished, a low chuckle escaping me. “That garbage everyone keeps spewing?” My voice turned sharper. “I am his Queen. His only one. No one ever knew the truth of us—not you, not the poets, not the historians. Every book, every tale speaks as if it knows. But no one knows shit.”
She stared at me, aghast, as if I were a demon and had sprouted horns.
“He stole you from me!” she shouted. “He wronged me in every way!”
“It’s always been about you, hasn’t it, Mother?” My laugh was bitter. “Never about what I wanted. Never about my happiness. I should have told you long ago—I was grateful he took me. Grateful he showed me another life. One of passion, and purpose, and freedom.”
“In that wretched Underworld?” She spat the words. “That dark, dead place?”
“Better than the gilded cage you kept me in,” I said.
“I learned to love the dark realm. Its honesty. Its acceptance of all things, not just the pretty ones.” I held her gaze, unflinching.
“But your kind could never see that. No shallow, narrow-minded being ever appreciates the raw beauty of darkness.”
“You have been corrupted,” Mother said, her expression pained even behind the mask. “Just as Poseidon warned me. He watched you closely in that academy after I had to leave. He saw the rot taking root.”
“And you trust the word of a rapist?” My voice turned icy. “A god who has assaulted countless nymphs and mortals? Who uses his power to simply take what he wants?”
“You will show respect! He is one of the three originals! One of the most powerful—”
“And my mate is one of the three as well,” I cut in mercilessly. “Poseidon is not worthy of licking the dirt from Hades’s boots!”
Not only Mother but several eavesdropping gods nearby gasped at my words.
That, I thought, will be the least shocking thing you witness tonight.
“I underestimated the damage he has done to you,” Demeter said. Her voice took on that determined tone I knew too well. “It will take considerable effort to purge his poison. I clipped your rebellious wings once. I can do so again, whatever the cost.”
“At the cost of my being torn from him,” I said.
“At the cost of my being murdered brutally over and over. At the cost of my nearly being erased from existence. And at the cost of my mate’s endless torment.
” My voice turned dangerously soft. “Your hatred blinded you, Mother. To punish him, you fed me to true monsters. You threw me to the worst sadists while calling it protection.”
“How could you say such terrible things?” She shook her head, the motion tight with frustration. “I am your mother. A mother knows what is best for her daughter. I fought to keep you pure. Hades undid all of that. Your suffering is his legacy.”
“He loves me with all of his black soul!” I snapped. “More than you ever could. You never truly loved me. Love isn’t control. It isn’t clipping wings or building cages, however gilded. Love is acceptance and allowing your loved ones to make their own choices.”
“You are still so naive,” Mother dismissed, her tone weary. “No wonder he ensnared you so easily. It does not matter. I will not give up on you. I have invested too much. I will make you see reason.”
“Do not threaten me, Mother,” I warned. “Not unless you fully comprehend what your daughter has become.”
She held up a finger to silence me, her head tilting slightly—that distant look signaling a mental summons from the Olympian Council.
“You’re being called, Mother,” I said with mock courtesy. “Best not keep them waiting.”
Her frown deepened. “Hades has issued an ultimatum. Return you, or the siege does not end. Zeus has convened the eleven to decide.”
“How typical, that no one thinks to ask me,” I observed.
“Do not worry, daughter.” She turned, her gaze firm.
“I hold a seat on the Council. I will not compromise again, as I did with that half-year arrangement. I’ll put my foot down on principle this time.
He will never take you from me again.” A cold smile ghosted her lips.
“I will enjoy watching him try and fail. His army cannot breach our wards. Let him exhaust himself against them.”
“You are right,” I said. “Hades cannot break the wards from the outside.” I let the pause linger with implication. “Unless he has help from within.”
Demeter snorted. “Who would ever help him? He is reviled here. Everyone in this city despises him.”
“Of course they do,” I said. “But while they despised him, they also delighted in watching me die again and again, each time more creatively than the last. Not a single being here offered me compassion. Only Apollo, perhaps. The rest found endless entertainment in my agony.”
“Some will answer for their pettiness,” Demeter said, her lips thinning. “But you must understand—our kind are not made for empathy. Such sentiments are weaknesses. They get you killed, or controlled.”
“Your kind,” I corrected, “crave only power and amusement bought with another’s pain.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded with a pained sigh. “But you are one of us, daughter.”
But I was no longer one of them. I’d never be again.
The clamor increased as Hades’s force upped their assault against the wards.
We both turned toward the distant walls.
The dead had piled up, climbing over each other.
Demons hurled themselves at the barrier with enough strength to shake the foundations.
Winged creatures dove from above, beating against the wards in a relentless, furious rhythm.
But the ward held.
My gaze found Hades again across the vast distance. His eyes had never left me, I realized. He’d been watching me the entire time.
His stare spoke of longing. Of pain. Of a loyalty that would outlast the stars.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest.
Did he think I still craved this empty life? That its riches and power might tempt me? That I could possibly choose this over him?
Still, he didn’t give up on me. Because to stop would be to lose me forever—to leave me trapped in an existence that would slowly kill everything real inside me.
Even from this tower of the gods, I could feel my mate’s agony and his undying love.
“In contrast to your kind,” I said, my gaze glued to my mate, “Hades and his people have been there for me. They would walk through an inferno for me. Kill for me.”
“Enough of your negativity,” Demeter snapped. “Your endless lamenting tires me. Look forward. Do not let this bitterness drag us down.”
I peeled off my gloves slowly, one finger at a time, and let them fall to the golden marble. Then I summoned a blade from my pocket realm, the hilt settling in my hand.
I drew it swiftly across the tips of my fingers. Quick, precise cuts. Blood welled immediately, dark red against my skin.
“What are you doing?” Mother gasped, horror in her voice as she reached for my hand.
I dismissed the dagger, and it vanished into mist.
I pressed my bleeding fingers together and began to weave. Blood magic intertwined with threads of fate, spinning patterns at a rapid speed.
“How about this negativity, Mother?”