Chapter Seven #2
Zagreus offered a languid smile. ‘You’re very welcome.’
‘We’ll take it from here,’ Thanatos added. He reached for Mal’s hand, but at the last moment hesitated, letting it fall.
‘I’d come along,’ Zagreus said with a shrug, clearly unbothered, ‘but...’
‘You can’t!’ Makaria gasped. ‘Father will be furious if you go against his will. He said we must stay with Melinoe.’
Zagreus snarled. ‘I am not Hades’ hound, Makaria. He may keep you on a leash, but...’ He stretched his arms with lazy defiance, like a cat fresh from slumber. ‘Enjoy yourselves. I’ll escort you to the gates of Hell, at least.’
Makaria looked as though she might argue, but Mal grasped her arm gently and gave Zagreus a glare as sharp as obsidian. She couldn’t care less whether he came or stayed, but she knew it had meant something to Makaria, having them all together.
When Zagreus moved ahead of them, Makaria slipped from Mal’s grip and hurried after him, her expression unreadable.
‘Let it be,’ Thanatos said quietly beside Mal. ‘They’ve spent a thousand years together.’
Mal said nothing. She kept walking, letting the silence and the screams consume her. Thanatos spoke again, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. ‘It’s interesting, though.’
She glanced at him. ‘What is?’
‘That you care for her.’
‘I don’t.’
He snorted. ‘You’re not a very convincing liar, Melinoe. I see the way you try to make her happy.’
‘She’s my sister,’ Mal said, focusing on the iron bars and the twisted faces beyond them. ‘I protect my family.’
‘Yes,’ Thanatos whispered. ‘That you do.’
After what felt like an eternity wandering a corridor carved from torment and shadow, the path ended suddenly, jarringly at the lip of a jagged cliff.
The air thickened, scorched and sulphurous, rising in hot gusts from below.
Mal stepped to the edge and peered down.
Far beneath, molten fire churned, vast and unforgiving.
She turned to Zagreus, eyes narrowed into slits of suspicion. ‘Is this some sort of joke?’
Zagreus smiled, all teeth and ease. ‘Hell lies that way,’ he said, gesturing to the lava below as though pointing out a quaint garden path. ‘You have to jump.’
The great white wolf lifted its snout and sniffed the air, then gave a soft, uneasy whimper—an instinctive warning in a world where instincts mattered most.
‘I’d suggest not taking the wolf with you,’ Zagreus said, voice light, but laced with something darker beneath.
‘Why?’ Mal asked, her hand resting protectively against the wolf’s thick fur.
Zagreus didn’t answer. His smile merely deepened into something more mischievous, something sharp. A flicker passed through his eyes, and whatever it was, Thanatos caught it immediately.
‘Yes… perhaps he’s right, Melinoe,’ Thanatos murmured. ‘Let the wolf stay behind.’
‘Hell has a fondness for trapping souls,’ Zagreus said, tone casual, though the weight of his words hung heavy. ‘Would be a shame if your wolf got left behind. Thanatos might have to return and strike a bargain. We wouldn’t want that again, would we?’
Thanatos’ jaw tensed. ‘Say one more word, Zagreus, and I’ll tear out your teeth and your tongue to match.’
Mal waved them both off with a sigh, tired of the endless back-and-forth. ‘Fine. Wren will stay.’ She ran her fingers through the wolf’s pale fur. ‘Will you watch her for me, Zagreus?’
For a moment, Zagreus looked startled by the request. Then he gave a resigned sigh. ‘Fine. I suppose I can manage that.’
Mal turned back to the ledge, her gaze dropping to the molten depths below. Was this truly the only way into Hell, to leap into lava? It seemed fitting, somehow. Brutal. Final. And yet… she hesitated.
Before she could carve out a plan, Makaria clapped her hands in delight and, without so much as a second glance, spun and leapt from the cliff.
‘Makaria!’ Mal lunged, hand outstretched, fingers grazing the hem of her sister’s black dress, but the fabric slipped through her grasp like smoke, and Makaria plunged down, down, down into the glowing abyss.
A hand caught Mal’s arm, strong and firm, pulling her back against a chest she knew far too well.
Thanatos.
‘Is she...?’ Mal breathed.
‘She’s a goddess, Melinoe,’ he said against her ear, voice low and amused. ‘She cannot die.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Now it’s our turn.’
Mal shook her head, but before she could step away, he leaned in closer.
‘Are you frightened?’ he whispered. ‘We can do it together. I’ll even hold your hand, if you like.’
She shoved him with a force fuelled by fury and pride. Her teeth flashed, and her glare could have split stone.
She saw the glint in his eyes, the taunting, the challenge, the way he was deliberately goading her, trying to strip away her fear with mockery.
And she hated him for it.
She hated him for caring.
‘Don’t,’ she snapped, stepping back.
‘Don’t what?’ he asked, his tone laced with something unholy.
‘Don’t pretend this is for me,’ she hissed. ‘I’m no damsel, Thanatos.’
‘Oh, I know,’ he said with a laugh, inching ever closer, driving her backwards towards the cliff’s edge. ‘You’re what nightmares are made of, Melinoe.’
She saw it then, the intent. He meant to push her. He thought she feared the leap.
But he was wrong.
‘Here’s the thing, Thanatos,’ she whispered, letting him advance, letting him believe he was in control. ‘You seem to think I’m scared.’
And before he could draw breath, before his hand could reach her, Mal twisted on her heel, seized his wrist, and with a savage smile, flung him backwards into the abyss.
His gasp of surprise echoed, followed almost instantly by a peal of laughter as he vanished into the depths of Hell.
Mal stood at the edge, the air rippling with heat around her. She turned, gaze meeting Zagreus’, who watched her with a faint, furrowed frown. The white wolf at his side howled as a goodbye.
Mal’s lips curled into a wicked grin.
With a playful wave, she stepped forward and let herself fall into Hell.