Chapter 16 Hades
Hades
There’s a trembling rage just beneath the surface. The surface of my skin, the surface of the Underworld, the surface of all of my existence. It’s ominous and although I’m aware of it, I ignore the tremors out of fear of what I’ll do next.
The one thing I crave the most is to stay in bed with my queen until she speaks the truth I need to hear: she belongs here with me for all eternity. Only here and only with me.
It is a great irony. If she hadn’t come back, the Underworld would not have started to heal from my rage.
If she hadn’t done magic with her mother and said whatever it is she said to Demeter to stop the carnage on Earth, the previous rage would still be unleashed…
and that is quite harmless compared to what resides within me now.
“We must go,” Persephone tells me simply, pulling me from my thoughts, her arms around my waist. We stand in front of the mirror in my bedchambers.
She is breathtaking in a black silk gown that gathers on the floor at her bare feet, the crown I gave her on her head, her hair in flowing natural curls over her pale shoulder.
“The court is waiting for you.” Her voice is a lullaby. It soothes the beast inside of me.
“They’re waiting for us,” I remind her, then turn away from the mirror and take her chin in my hand. Her skin is so soft, so delicate. The love I have for her feels as if it’s on edge because of her admission: I must go back.
Persephone tips her face up to mine without hesitation, and I bend to kiss her without hesitation as well. The genuine affection soothes me. She is a balm to my broken soul.
Why would I ever hesitate? Why would I ever leave her unkissed?
I would not. I will never again deny myself her love, however I may have it.
I tell myself she’s here now and she would not betray me.
She would not leave me. Although something inside of me screams that she will.
That it is destined. The pain in my chest is unbearable and yet, I stay beside her.
I ignore it. I bury it deep within me until the screams are silenced.
With that I deepen the kiss, losing myself in her touch. Stay with me, my love.
Persephone makes a small feminine sound and pulls back, breathless. The blush on her cheeks is tempting. “Hades! They’re waiting!”
“Let them wait,” I tell her, my voice low with lust, and I kiss her again. The warmth of her embrace is everything I need.
The next time I come up for air, Persephone whirls away.
I catch her around the waist and pull her back toward me loosely, kissing the side of her neck playfully until she twists out of my arms with a huff of a laugh and hurries out of my rooms ahead of me.
“We must,” she urges and stops to wait for me.
Not leaving my sight, which makes me grateful.
There are guards in the hall, of course, and the last time she was taken from the Underworld, I watched it happen and did not intervene.
I allowed it. A foolish side of me under the spell of the Fates’ promise allowed it.
Never again. She knows not what it did to me. Never fucking again will I allow it.
In the hallway, Persephone loops her arm through mine with her other hand on my forearm and stays close to me while we walk, guards ahead of us and behind.
Her hip brushes against me. As if she cannot part from me either.
I focus on that. On her desire to be at my side.
I sink into that gratitude and the pride she has of being the righteous queen she is.
“You know it would not stop me,” I whisper by the shell of her ear.
“What would not stop you?”
“The guards. The daylight. Take your pick, my queen. None of it would stop me from having you here and now.”
Persephone gasps, mockingly she questions, “You would let them watch?”
My tone lowers as I respond coldly, “They would not watch if they knew what was best for them.”
“You could not punish them for watching if you chose to do such a thing.”
A bark of laughter leaves me. The laugh catches the guards ahead of us as they share a glance. Perhaps even a subtle smile. I do not watch them for long. I am far more interested in watching the color deepen in Persephone’s cheeks.
“Promise me you wouldn’t,” she demands, nudging me with her elbow.
“You have my word.”
Persephone purses her lips. “I suppose I will have to trust you.” The lightness between us is pleasing. I carry it with me as we walk, leaving behind whatever had come over me.
I lean down to speak into her ear again. “I would not punish them for watching. But they would not watch, either. You are their queen, and not one of my guards would look at you in a private moment unless you asked them to.”
She is quiet for too long.
“Truthfully though, I don’t care about the guards,” I say into her ear, like this is the most salacious thing I could imagine. “I don’t care who is watching. All I care about is you. Unless it bothered you.”
Persephone meets my eyes.
“I don’t care about who fucking sees us, Hades.
Let them watch, so long as I have you.” She does not know how strongly she draws me to her.
Tipping her chin up like that is nearly too much.
I want to guide her into an alcove, push up her gown, and fuck her until she falls asleep from sated exhaustion.
Desperation is unbecoming, I know.
“Careful, my queen,” I tease and then allow her a gentle kiss in front of the guards.
It’s been too long since I held court, and it’s important to Persephone that I remain the ruler of my realms in more than name. That means passing judgments. That means hearing what the souls who dwell here would ask from me. Answering whatever questions they have with honesty and transparency.
The guards, donned in blackened iron armor with skeletal etchings and dark red capes the color of blood, pull open the wide doors before us, and we walk into the court.
Persephone stands taller as we make our way through those who have gathered for today’s session.
The room, grand as it is, is crowded, but it is silent.
The crack of the doors closing and the armored boots of the guards clinking is all that can be heard.
Anticipation and fear mingle in the air.
A twinge of guilt at their fear stirs in the pit of my stomach.
Surely, these souls do not think I would destroy them at court.
Do they?
I resign myself to the idea that they must. Their fear is sickening.
It troubles them to a maddening degree. I’ve sent demons to the mortal realm.
Purely out of anger, I’ve torn souls apart in nearly every part of my realms to make space.
I must show them that I will not lose my temper here.
That court is still a place of fair consideration.
I will stand as their righteous king, and they will come to trust me again elsewhere in my realms as well.
The whispers begin as Persephone turns to face them before taking her seat.
Gracefully, Persephone takes her seat next to me, and that is when it happens. The wave of souls kneeling begins at the front of the room and floods backward until every person there is on one knee, bowing their heads for my queen. The sight is chilling in the most delectable of ways.
They bow for our queen. The pride I feel is a sinful thing.
“Oh,” Persephone whispers, and extends a raised hand to them, acknowledging the gesture.
“You may rise,” she says finally, her voice thick with emotion.
Her wide beautiful eyes turn glassy, and I reach over to place my hand over her hand that rests on her lap.
She’s quick to turn it so we’re palm to palm and she squeezes my hand in return.
“We will begin,” I say, raising my voice so all can hear, and the gathered crowd shifts its weight. Souls rearrange themselves, shuffling on the spot. I wait for the doors to open and the first soul to be judged brought before us.
A few voices rise when the doors do not open.
They’re only a little louder than whispers, and this time, they are questioning.
A prickle slips down my spine. A knowing feeling.
This is not the usual routine, but it cannot be.
There was too much unrest while Persephone was gone.
It will take some time for the various processes in the Underworld to rebalance themselves.
Although irritation runs through me, I do not give any sign that I find this unacceptable. I did not expect the first new soul to be brought in without a moment’s delay.
Persephone tightens her hand in mine. She, too, knows that there is unbalance. Holding my hand a little tighter is the only move she makes.
Just as I am about to speak—to ask if there has been some delay—the doors to the court open.
It’s not a single, new soul that is brought in, flanked by two guards. Swallowing thickly, my shoulders tense.
It is Hecate.
Once again, the entire court falls to one knee, heads bowed.
Whispers of graciousness and love follow her path.
Hecate extends her hands to the crowd as she comes to the dais where I sit with Persephone, bestowing blessings on the souls.
The weariness in her eyes shows me she has not slept since she’s done her bidding in the mortal realm.
Leading the army of the dead to seek their retribution and to force closure for their souls that was not granted before their death.
Her robe is tattered, graveyard dirt lines the hem of it.
Once for every moon’s passing, the great Titan does her work for the dead.
And last night she must've brought hell on Earth given her state. Good for her.
Finally, Hecate reaches the dais. She turns to each of the guards who have accompanied her and thanks them, her steady voice loud enough to be heard at the back of the court. The guards retreat back to the doors.