Chapter 31 - Hades
Hades
I remember dying.
The knife. The pain. Shadows pouring from the wound in my chest like a river of darkness.
What will never leave my mind, no matter where my essence may end up, was Ophelia's face above me, her hands trying to stop what couldn't be stopped.
The complete devastation in her eyes made my death all the more difficult.
I tried to hold steady for her, but I couldn't, and before I could tell her how much I loved her: nothing. I ceased to exist.
Not the comfortable darkness of my realm. Not the space between life and death where I've always existed.
A deep void of nothing.
I don't know for how long, because now, now, I'm on fire.
Pain explodes through every nerve ending as I reform. Not gradually. Not gently. All at once, every atom of my being snaps back into place. Bone, muscle, tendon, and skin. It all reforms in the most excruciating way possible.
I scream.
The sound tears from my throat, raw and agonized. I don't remember my birth, or rather, my formation, and if it was anything like this experience: I'm grateful.
I collapse to my hands and knees on the floor, gasping, as my lungs fully form. My chest aches where the knife entered, but when I press my hand against it, there's no wound. Just skin, unmarked and white.
My only comfort is that I am not alone. As though called by my very essence, my shades and shadows come to comfort me. They caress my skin, whisper in my ear, and grant me my power and strength as I absorb them.
Closing my eyes, I inhale, swallowing down the copper taste of blood as I gather myself.
"Hades?"
The voice is barely a whisper, but I'd know it anywhere.
I look to my left.
Ophelia.
She's collapsed in the sand, surrounded by roses that bloom impossibly in the desert. Her face is pale, exhausted, but when she sees me, when she registers that I'm here, whole, alive, she smiles.
That smile breaks something in my chest.
I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to move, crossing the distance between us in seconds. I drop to my knees beside her, hands hovering over her body, not sure where to touch, afraid to harm her any further.
And yet, not touching her is akin to torture.
"You're real." Her voice is so soft I almost miss it. "You came back."
My voice cracks. "How?"
I'm looking around. There are vines and roses everywhere, and my brothers and sisters stare with wide eyes.
"We're safe." She reaches up with one trembling hand, touching my face like she needs to confirm I'm solid. "I saved us. I saved—"
Her hand drops.
Her eyes flutter closed, but there's a soft smile on her face.
"Ophelia?" I catch her as she goes limp, pulling her against my chest. "Ophelia, stay with me. Don't—"
I press my ear to her chest. Her heart beats steady, and she inhales and exhales normally.
She's alive but unconscious.
Likely exhausted from whatever she did to bring me back. I watch as her vines and flowers start to retreat. They don't wither, just go back into the ground, re-attaching themselves to their natural root system, as they rest until their mistress needs them again.
I hold Ophelia tight, breathing easier as she curls against me.
I look around the temple properly for the first time since reforming.
The other gods are here, all looking whole but a little worse for wear.
"Where's Demeter?" I ask, my voice rough, as I use my new vocal cords for the first time.
No one answers, and I feel myself going on the offensive. Somehow, I am returned, and my powers have followed, which means if she's locked us all away, I have the best chance—
"There," Hecate says, pointing to a pile of dirt next to me.
"Here?"
She nods. "That's what's left."
Every pair of eyes turns to Ophelia. My wife, nestled in my arms, pale and spent.
"Did she—" I look down at Ophelia, still unconscious in my arms. "Did Ophelia do this?"
Poseidon looks on at her with awe. "She drained the life right out of her. Turned her to dust."
I stare at the pile of what used to be a goddess, or at least the echoes of one, and then back at Ophelia.
My Ophelia, who cried over dead flowers. Who struggled to make cacti bloom. Who looked at me with those defiant eyes and insisted she wasn't Persephone.
She killed Demeter.
"We need to leave." Hecate steps forward. "The cultists retreated when their goddess died. I think they were scared of Ophelia, but they'll regroup, and I'd rather not have to massacre them."
"Speak for yourself," Zeus grumbles.
I ignore him.
The familiar weight of divine essence flows through me, and I can feel the Underworld, my realm, calling to me. Our powers have all returned.
"Let's get out of this hellhole." Poseidon is already moving toward the others. "I've had enough desert for one lifetime."
I stand carefully, cradling Ophelia against my chest. She's so light, and too pale. It makes me nervous.
"Can you portal us?" I ask Hecate. "I doubt Demeter has kept a water source, and Ophelia is not fit to shift." She has become more used to my shadows, but I'm not willing to risk her in this state.
Not that it matters. Hecate is already weaving her magic, creating a doorway through space and time.
I step through without hesitation, the others following. The portal closes behind us with a soft snap, severing our connection to that cursed temple.
We release a collective sigh of relief. None will speak of it, but being mortal, even just for a small spell: I suspect no one liked it.
The penthouse is still a disaster from the attack. Broken furniture. Shattered windows. Blood on expensive carpet.
I don't care. The only thing I truly value is in my arms.
I carry Ophelia to my bedroom, a room untouched by the violence, and lay her gently on the bed. Her breathing is steady, her face peaceful despite everything. I brush a strand of hair from her forehead, and my hand comes away dirty with sand and blood.
Not hers, I realize with relief. Mine, probably. And Demeter's dust.
"Hades."
I turn to find Nyx standing in the doorway.
"Quiet," I say, pressing a kiss to Ophelia's head before getting up. "She needs rest."
Nyx nods, and as much as I don't want to, I leave the room.
"What happened?" I ask. "How am I — I died. I felt it. I faded."
"You didn't just die, Hades," Hecate says, her breath coming out in a long, exhausted exhale. "You were destroyed."
"How?" Poseidon asks. I can feel his nerves. "We are immortal."
Nyx nods. "We are," she says. "But nothing is infallible. A loophole always exists."
"How come I didn't stay dead?"
"Your wife." Nyx looks at me, and there's something in her expression I can't quite read. "She consumed you."
The words don't make sense. "What?"
"Gross," Poseidon says, laughter in his voice.
We ignore him.
"She pulled you into her when you began to fade," Nyx says. "And when Demeter died, her true power returned, and she used it to reform you." Her voice softens. "She breathed life into death."
I blink, overwhelmed.
She saved me.
Not just saved. She literally pulled me back from permanent death. Held my essence inside herself and refused to let me go.
"That's..." I don't have words. "That's not possible."
"It is now." Nyx turns toward the door. "She's become something new, Hades. Something that's never existed before. The full embodiment of the cycle."
Everyone is silent, mulling this over.
Nyx pauses in the doorway, her eyes far away, as though seeing something the rest of us can't. "She will survive this, but she will need time."
I glance at Zeus, wondering what he thinks of this. He wanted to kill Ophelia before. Now, having witnessed what she's become, I imagine the desire is even stronger.
"While I'd love to examine your wife's new power, we somehow have bigger fucking problems," he says, as though reading my mind.
"Can it wait?" I want to go back to my wife. Now that I'm focused, I can feel the bond between us, and I want nothing more than to be beside her.
"No." Zeus moves into the room. "Because while you were busy dying and being resurrected, Demeter let slip some very interesting information."
I finally turn to face him. "What information?"
"The Titans." His voice is flat. "They're back, Hades. Free. And according to Demeter, they're the ones who helped her. The ones who blocked our powers."
Ice floods my veins. Aphrodite releases a small sob.
She has been silent and shaking since we returned, and I can see the effects of what she's been through written across her face.
"I tried to tell you," she says. "But that stupid bitch did a tongue binding on me.
Every time I spoke, my tongue would split.
" Her hand reaches for her mouth, as though reliving the pain.
I shake my head. "That's not — the Titans are imprisoned. They can't—"
"Well, apparently they can." Zeus's expression is hard. "Nice going, fucker."
"You blame me for this?" I growl. "You've got some fucking nerve considering your desire for power made the Titans our enemies."
I notice everyone is silent, looking away, and I know immediately I am missing a piece of this puzzle.
"You are to fucking blame, you stupid fuck. The Fates." Zeus crosses his arms, glowering, eyes gold with power. "You made a bargain with the Fates to bring Persephone back. What did you think the price would be?"
Oh fuck.
"They didn't tell me. They just said there would be a price. When she had no memory, no control, I assumed—"
"Wrong." Zeus's laugh is bitter. "The Titans. Your bargain freed the Titans, and the worst part is, you were too busy chasing her fucking skirt to even realize it."
"We understand, Hades," Hecate says, her voice soft. "After the fade, none of us were well—"
I ignore her attempt to absolve me. There is no absolution. Because I would have paid any price to have Persephone back.
Even this.
"How many are free?"
"We don't know." Zeus runs a hand through his hair. "Your wife decided to end Demeter before she could say more. But if even one of them is loose—"
He doesn't need to finish that sentence.
One Titan could devastate the modern world. Multiple Titans?
It would be war.
"We'll find them. Stop them. Whatever it takes."
"Will we?" Zeus asks. "Because last time we fought the Titans, we had the full pantheon. Apollo. Artemis. All of them. Now it's just us. A handful of gods against—"
"We'll figure it out," I repeat, harder this time. "They do not know this world the way we do. The rules have changed, and we've mastered them."
Zeus is quiet for a moment. "You better fucking hope you're right. Because if not, your pretty little wife will be bringing us all back from the grave."
He doesn't wait for me to respond. He storms out, slamming the door behind him. Lightning flashes across the sky, and I suspect he's returned to his home.
Good.
I cannot manage his bullshit.
Silence settles over the room.
"You should go to her," Hecate says, her voice soft. "There is time for this discussion."
I nod, not willing to argue.
I hear Hecate talking softly to the others as I go, and I hope she is telling them to leave. I want to be alone with my wife.
I enter our bedroom and slide into the bed, more exhausted than I've ever remembered being.
"Hades?"
Her voice is barely a whisper.
I turn to find her eyes open, looking at me with exhausted recognition.
"You're awake." I move closer, taking her hand. "How do you feel?"
"Tired." She manages a weak smile. "Did I really — did I bring you back? Are you here?"
"Yes."
"Good." Her eyes flutter closed again. "Needed you to come back. Can't do this without you."
"Do what?"
"Live." She squeezes my hand weakly.
My throat tightens.
"I'm here," I promise. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Liar." But she's smiling. "You died. Left me."
"Never again." I pull her against my chest. "I swear it, Ophelia."
She burrows into me, her face pressed against my chest where the knife entered. Where I died.
She's already asleep again.
I lie there, holding her, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing. Feeling the bond between us, complete now, unbreakable, pulsing with life and death intertwined.
There's a war coming.
But right now, in this moment, holding her in my arms?
I don't care.
Let the Titans come.
She is mine.
In this life and every life after.
No matter the price.