Chapter sixteen Persephone #2
Not just his words. His will.
It slid over me like the unwanted caress it was, a pressure creeping along my skin that begged me to lean in, to agree, to see things his way. His magic, his influence, slipped between my thoughts like smoke, warm, coaxing, insistent.
The garden stirred as instinct flared through me with a violence that surprised us both. A pulse of life ricocheted around us, leaving him slack jawed, looking up at me as I took to my feet.
“You are more stubborn than I gave you credit for, little goddess,” the Morningstar crooned, reaching for me. Danger curled the edges of his words, tinged with the flavor of something heavy, thick.
Lust.
Hades’s earlier warning came floating back to me.
He wears the look of someone obsessed.
He covets you.
Why?
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I threatened, my voice much lower than before.
“You fight it now, little goddess, but I promise if you stop fighting me, it’ll be worth it. I’ll make it worth it.”
The Morningstar was mischievous before, but the darkening of his features had nothing to do with the lengthening shadows of the dusk.
I stood to excuse myself, my heart leaping into my throat, but he filled my vision.
My eyes darted from him, but his proximity forced me backwards until my back hit a wide marble column.
The heat of his body was overwhelming, sweltering, stifling.
He was everywhere, towering over me. My pulse pounded in my ears, my head buzzing in a way so unlike the wine from earlier, leaving me disoriented.
My eyes darted around for escape, but his arms came up on either side of my head, caging me in place. I felt so small. Miniscule.
Helpless.
Shadows erupted from him, spilling unchecked like ink over the stone floor.
Shadows.
Earlier, I’d accused Hades of scaring me, but was the new god all along. Blood rushed through my veins, spurred on by blind panic as the shadows and the force of his will slowed and weakened my every movement. A dark horror churned in my gut, expanding to fill my chest and constrict my breathing.
“Morningstar, I don’t want—” The hard collision of his lips on mine was sudden and violent with a nip of teeth. Through sheer will, I broke my face from his, my objection was a strangled, scared cry as I sucked in a breath.
He chuckled, as though I was having a tantrum and I’ll yield to him if given the time.
I yanked my head away, a strangled protest on my lips, my but his hands delved into my hair, roughly wrenching my back to him in a motion that burned my scalp.
His mouth slithered again onto mine, his chest rumbling as if savoring my fear.
“You belong to me now, little goddess. And you taste every bit as sweet as I hoped you would.” His tongue dove between my teeth and I froze.
Tears welled and fell, even as his hands fumbled with my dress, even as his leg darted between my mine, fighting to part them. “I so look forward to breaking you in.”
“Stop,” I begged, my strength, my volume, my fight freezing in the core of me, “please…”
No.
Please, no.
Mother was right, I realized with a heaviness that threatened to break me into pieces. This place was full of monsters.
I fought. I tried to scream, but he muffled me with his other hand.
My leaden arms whirled, connecting with him, my elbows jabbing in succession—slower than they should be— but all he did was vibrate with a dark laugh of someone who knew they were about to taste victory.
I sobbed against him, my burning limbs weakening in the fight as my straps ripped, my dress baring my chest to him, which only made him sickeningly harder against me.
My eyes closed, desperate to open them to any other scene unfolding until finally they clamped shut as if I couldn’t see what was happening, then it wasn’t happening.
My elbow flew towards his face as my desperation reached a boiling point. I thrashed, expecting to connect with him, with something. My knee flew out, hoping to strike the most intimate part of him.
But all I hit was air.
I blinked my eyes open, wincing through the fear to find myself completely alone.
Another sob broke from my throat, fear and confusion warring in equal measure, neither able to gain advantage over the other, leaving my knees to bend.
Clutching the scraps of my dress to cover myself, I slithered and slumped to the ground, letting the tears come as I rocked myself.
I didn’t feel the chill of the shadowed ground.
I didn’t feel anything. Even as a part of my mind acknowledged I was alone, I felt the intrusion of his hands all over me.
I couldn’t even fight my urge to retch.
HADES
I told myself I was leaving. I told myself I wasn’t looking for her, but just once, I wanted to see her garden by moonlight, the closest it could ever come to representing growth in the Underworld.
Growth. Life. These things had no meaning there and thus ceased to exist the moment they crossed the barrier from any world into the Underworld.
Persephone is a shooting star—bright, vivid, beautiful, but also inaccessible between the furies of Zeus and Demeter.
And even if she weren’t, she, the goddess of spring, a crafter of life, could not thrive in a place in the throes of death.
She’d be shattered before my broken alter in the Underworld.
And nothing, no power nor being could save her if she found herself there for any length of time.
“Stop! Please…” Her small voice fractured under the weight of her fear.
My rage ignited, something dark and primal and possessive immediately lashing out at the mere thought of someone harming her.
Scaring her. Putting their filthy fucking hands on her.
I unclenched my jaw in the wake of a snarl.
I stalked towards the growing sounds of Persephone’s pleas, and I silently vowed whoever was hurting her was not only about to breathe their last, but they would suffer before they did.
I told myself as I grabbed the monster called the Morningstar that I only cared because rape was unjust. That taking a female’s choice was unfathomable. I told myself over again, even as I spun my shadows, and deposited us both in the middle of a furious Zeus and Demeter.
Perhaps they should have a say about how long he’d suffer.