33. Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Corre
“ I t was the most terrible night of my life. It was the most horrific thing I’d ever witnessed. To this day, I’ve never seen so much terror. So much destruction.” Berenice’s eyes were gone to another time, and goosebumps quickly rose on Corre’s skin. “Thanatos and his men had come up from the Underworld. He’d been appointed the leader there until Markus was of age. When the boy was deemed old enough to train, he needed to be fetched.” Berenice let out a shaky sigh. “That day was his thirteenth birthday, and Thanatos decided to make it a show.”
Corre nervously tugged on a loose string hanging from the corner of her quilt, processing her mother’s words. The world around them was still.
“I lived in the village with many of the others at that time. The ones without special titles, you know.” She let out a tight laugh. “Back then, it was no better than it is now. We weren’t seen as important. It’s concerning how much better I was treated after being deemed the new Demeter. But that’s beside the point. The point is—if I had been home, I would have missed the sight completely. And I don’t think I was supposed to miss it.”
She smiled softly and lifted a hand to her daughter’s cheek. “Because witnessing what I did that night was one of the reasons Zeus let me be your mother. Probably the reason.” Corre swallowed hard but stayed silent. “I was walking home from the marketplace that night when I heard screaming. I rushed to the sound. Before I got there, a burst of smoke funneled into the sky, and another wave of screams filled the air. I ran there as fast as I could.”
“Weren’t you scared?” Corre asked.
“Of course I was.”
“So why did you do it? You don’t have the skills of a fighter. You could have been tortured or burned alive.”
“It was the right thing to do, and the screams were too much. Especially, the screams of a child.” Something darkened in her eyes. “I heard you .” Corre watched her mother, forgetting to breathe every couple of seconds. “I hid. I saw everything. You and your birth mother. I saw it all. I saw him ripping you from her, pulling your tiny arms from hers. You had wrapped them around her so tightly.”
Corre’s hands turned to ice. She stopped tugging on the string. “Why couldn’t I remember any of this until now?”
“It was very traumatic for you. I’m sure you blocked it out as soon as you knew you were safe here.”
Corre paused. “You said he ripped me from her. Was that Markus?”
“No,” Berenice said with a small smile, but her eyes were still dark. “It was Thanatos.”
Thanatos. Of course.
Guilt pinched her chest. Why had she been so quick to believe that demonic beast? Why couldn’t she have stood her ground, stuck to her belief that Markus was good the night she’d left Tartarus?
A lump formed in her throat. She had to concentrate hard on the words she wanted to say so she wouldn’t cry. “So, Markus didn’t do anything?”
“No, he didn’t.”
Markus wasn’t lying. I was right before.
He is good.
“Then why did he remember that day?”
“Because he was there, too. It was his birthday ‘celebration,’ remember?” Berenice shook her head, sadness deep in her eyes. “But he didn’t hurt you or anybody else. He was just a frightened boy back then, trembling behind his new master. He’d just been taken from his own family. He was terrified.”
“Why didn’t anyone do anything about it? I got placed in your care. Why didn’t he get a chance like that?”
Berenice rubbed her forehead, grimacing. “Because Markus wasn’t born from the same parents as you, and he was the one who was supposed to go with Thanatos. No one had a choice. His parents had to watch him get sent to the Underworld.”
“What do you mean ‘the same parents as me’? Because my mother was Demeter?”
“Because your father is Zeus.”
Corre froze. “What?”
Berenice squeezed Corre’s hand and kept her eyes steady on her daughter. “He wanted to give you a good life, despite . . .” she didn’t want to finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to.
“Despite not wanting to be a part of it,” Corre finished. My father is Zeus. My father is Zeus. No matter how many times she thought the words, she couldn’t get herself to fully believe them. “I thought Zeus was a good guy. Everyone always talks about how personable he is, and he went down to rescue me . . .” Because I’m his daughter. “Right.” She started pulling on that string again, desperately wishing this moment would end. Wishing she was back in Tartarus, wrapped in Markus’s arms.
Her chest ached at the thought of him.
“Zeus always seemed so good,” the young goddess added, trying her best to ignore that ache burrowing deeper in her chest. She looked to her mother, hoping she’d assure her that her father was good and that he had a good reason for his absence in her life. For hiding that he was her father.
But Berenice only held her daughter’s hand and gave her that same sad smile. “Unfortunately, appearances and reputations are deceiving, especially when shaped by public opinion.” She patted Corre’s hand. “But I’m sure you know that by now.”
Her stomach twisted as she thought about Markus and the vile things people had always said about him. The way rumors were steeped so far into their community that Phineas was willing to storm the Underworld and strike a complete stranger with an arrow. All because he—and everyone else—didn’t know Hades. Because they thought they did. But they didn’t. They only knew stories that were never backed by fact. And Markus was never there to defend himself. Nobody was.
To them, he was a monster, and no one bothered to question it.
Corre’s mind drifted to the other part of what her mother said, and of what Markus had mentioned about his parents before. “They cared that he was sent there? Markus said he’d been abandoned by them.”
“Of course they cared, though I suppose I’m not surprised that he thinks otherwise. He’s been down there with Thanatos all this time.” She let out a sigh. “But yes, they cared very much. His father was even cast out of Olympus trying to stop it. He’d tried so hard to keep Markus from going, but the Titans had already declared that Markus would be Hades, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.”
“What about Zeus? Couldn’t he have done something about it?”
“Unfortunately, Zeus didn’t care. Hades was destined to be his rival. It was deemed as much, in different words, by the Titans. Zeus was only to follow their orders, though he had his influence. I think he knew that Thanatos would be a difficult master. I think he secretly hoped that no true Hades would ever take the throne.” She looked sadly into Corre’s eyes. “I think he liked that Thanatos took Markus. He knew that the creature would be hard on him. He saw the evil in Thanatos.”
“That’s terrible!” Anger rippled through her. “Why would he enjoy sentencing a young boy to that? And what made Markus such a good candidate?” She scoffed, fury rising in her voice.
“He was a very emotional child, and troublesome. Zeus didn’t want anything to do with him, and he wanted Markus’s mother. If you ask me, I think he agreed so vehemently with the Titans’ choice because he wanted Markus out of the way, and when Markus’s father, Thomas, tried fighting back to save the boy, Zeus leapt on the opportunity to cast him out. He even took away his status as a god and made him mortal. Then Zeus took Markus’s mother for himself. Against her wishes. Though he’s moved on now.”
Corre wanted to scream at Zeus. Markus had been the object of detest his entire life, just because he’d struggled with his emotions. How was that fair? And how was Zeus their leader? What kind of leader destroyed lives like that, and for his own gain, no less? And how was someone like that her father?
Markus’s father risked immortality for his son, and mine is the source of such pain.
“How despicable,” Corre muttered in disbelief.
Berenice nodded. “Yes. He had a child with the goddess, too.”
Corre blinked. “He did?”
“Yes. She’s grown up to be quite mischievous, but Zeus doesn’t really pay attention to her. She’s not a threat to him.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Tyche. She’s probably about twelve years old now.”
Corre’s body froze. Tyche. That platinum-haired goddess who’d helped her into Tartarus. She was her half-sister? And Markus’s on his mother’s side? “Does Markus know about her?”
“No. Markus was completely cut off from everyone but Thanatos that day. He was forced to watch all the destruction and was taken to Tartarus afterward, and no one heard from him again. Naturally, he became a folk legend on Olympus. He was renamed Theron by his master, and rumors grew over the years. That’s how he became a monster-under-the-bed type of being to everyone here.”
Berenice looked out the window, her eyes following the happy trots of a bird on the other side of the glass. “You likely won’t find sympathy for him on Olympus, but I know what I saw that day. Amongst the destruction was a trembling boy, scrawny and sobbing, and whenever Thanatos caught him showing emotion, he would strike him, which would obviously make the boy cry harder.” Corre’s chest ached at the thought of a young Markus being treated so horrendously. She clasped the cloth of the quilt and tried not to dwell on it, but her mother continued. “I saw Thanatos grab him by the shoulders and scream at him, telling him he needed to whip him into shape if he ever wanted to be Hades. Markus cried that he didn’t want to be Hades, but Thanatos just hit him and told him not to speak back to him.” She let out a sad, audible sigh. “And that was that.”
“That’s so awful. I don’t understand why anyone would allow such things to happen. Did Zeus at least know about the destruction Thanatos was causing?”
“Not until it was already over. He came with his army just as Thanatos was about to kill you.”
When he was about to kill me?
The thought made her blood run cold. “Why was he killing children?”
“He wasn’t. He was only after you.”
“What?” All the air left her lungs. Each time she thought nothing else could shock her further, her mother revealed even more.
“Thanatos wanted to make a statement that day, which was the reason for all the burning and theatrics. He also knew you were to be Hades’ opposite. He wanted you dead in case you caused trouble for him one day.” At the sight of her daughter’s anguish, Berenice leaned forward and gave her a compassionate smile. “You were to bring light and life to the world, my dear, and Thanatos wanted to rule through darkness. He wanted only death. He was scared of what you might one day become, and you should be proud of yourself that you’ve grown even stronger than what he feared.”
Corre couldn’t respond. Her mouth was dry, and her body was weak. It was like she wasn’t in her body at all. Berenice patted her daughter’s hand again and gently continued. “After Zeus chased him out, and after you had been carefully taken from your mother . . . who had passed before your eyes . . . you were placed in my care. I was given the role your mother had—to be Demeter. You needed to be taught. Then, more than ever.”
Something twisted in Corre’s gut. What would have happened if Berenice hadn’t found her that day? She felt even guiltier. “I’m sorry. For not taking my role seriously. I had no idea.”
“No, no, it’s my fault,” Berenice said. “I sheltered you from all of this. After you finally accepted me and trusted me when you were a child, something shifted in you. You were happier, and you slowly stopped remembering the terrors of that day, including your old life. I didn’t want to see you as listless and despondent as you had been. I wanted you to be happy. But you’re a grown woman now. I should have told you long ago.”
Corre stroked her mother’s hair. “It’s okay. I know now.” She tried to force a smile, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Markus. What he’d gone through made her sick. And furious.
“You care about him, don’t you?” Berenice said softly.
“I do. He’s not what everyone thinks. He’s especially not what Phineas thinks.”
There was a pause before Berenice said, “You should explain it to Phineas.”
Corre snorted. “Right. That would go over well.”
“He deserves to know.”
The young goddess’s eyes snapped up. “Why? Why does Phineas deserve to know? He ’s the one who hurtMarkus.”
“Not that. He deserves to know how you feel about Markus.”
Corre’s mouth hung open. “Why?”
Berenice chuckled. “For someone so beautifully astute and understanding of the God of the Underworld, you sure have a hard time seeing what’s in front of you in your own life.”
Corre frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Berenice looked out the window. “I think Phineas has something to tell you. You should talk to him. Try to explain things. Who knows—maybe he will change his mind about Markus. You never know.” Corre suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. The last person she wanted to see right now was Phineas, after what he’d done. Berenice brushed a loose strand of hair behind Corre’s ear. “I’m glad you told me how you feel about him.”
“I’m glad you believe me,” Corre said, realizing she could finally let relief loosen the tension in her body. The most important person in her life validated her feelings and believed her. It took a huge weight off her chest. “I’m glad that you know that he’s not what people think.”
Berenice smiled sadly. “Child, I’ve always known he’s not what people think.” Corre smiled, tears filling her eyes. “But I’m glad to know Thanatos hasn’t changed his heart. At least not to the point that he would be too far gone by the time he met my lovely daughter.”
“You warned me about seeing him, though. You were afraid of him. You were so worried about me being down there you sent Zeus to fetch me.”
Berenice let out a short laugh. “You were in Tartarus, my dear. Thanatos is evil and, as I said, I had no idea what state Theron was in.” She smiled. “But I’m glad to know he still has Markus left in him.”
Corre nodded, trying to smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. She looked back down at her hands, pulling that loose string on her quilt again. “He’s not perfect, of course, but he’s not what people think.”
“Is anybody?” Berenice said, and Corre looked up. “Are any of us what everyone else thinks?” She pondered this but said nothing. It didn’t matter what it was like for anybody else. No one else was Hades. He was the most hated god on Olympus. There may never be hope for him.
“Let me make you something to eat,” Berenice said, patting her daughter on the knee and getting off the bed. Halfway out the door, she stopped and turned back around. “Oh. I almost forgot. Zeus summoned me to his palace yesterday.”
Corre frowned. “Why?”
“He told me the agreement he struck with Thanatos.” The room went silent. When her mother realized Corre wouldn’t reply, she continued. “He said you will be there half the year.” Pain twisted her mother’s features.
Half the year?
Would she get to see Markus during that time?
“You will report in three months.”
Corre’s stomach dropped. “That’s so far away,” she said, and Berenice gaped at her.
“Correlia.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I know you have seen the light in him, but Tartarus is dangerous, and Markus is still a powerful god who has been trained by the worst creature I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s not a monster, Mother. Really, he isn’t,” she pleaded, but she could tell the older goddess was still skeptical. She had to come to terms with the fact that although her mother understood better than most, no one would know Markus the way she did. She just wished her mother could understand a little more. “He won’t hurt me. I know it. He sacrificed himself to protect me on more than one occasion.”
Berenice let out a long sigh. “Even so, you won’t be reporting to him. You’ll be reporting to Thanatos.” The older goddess’s hand curled along the door frame. “I don’t know what he plans to do with you—” her voice cut off, and, to Corre’s surprise, she broke into tears.
Corre rushed to her mother and threw her into an embrace. “It’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll train. I’ve been training in combat for years, and Markus taught me some things, too. I’ll be okay.”
Berenice wiped her face and looked up at her daughter. She gently placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Don’t focus on your duties as Persephone, okay? Train with Athena as much as possible. Learn from her.” She leaned in closer. “Will you do that for me, please?”
“Of course. I promise.”
The older goddess dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay. Now, there’s no use focusing on such melancholy things. Let me make you some soup. I baked a fresh loaf of bread this morning. I’ll bring it to you.”
“Thank you,” Corre said, and her mother kissed her on the forehead and closed the door.
When she was alone again, Markus came back to her mind. All his suffering. The pain his parents must have gone through. The pain he’d been enduring for so long.
The darkness had faded in him at a rapid pace.
Maybe he just needed someone to believe in him.
To help him not be afraid.
To love him.
Corre fell onto the bed and curled herself into a ball again. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t take the pain and the not knowing. She couldn’t take his absence. She couldn’t even sleep well anymore because he wasn’t there to hold her.
She was desperate for him. The thought of him being stuck there and in so much pain, without her. Being tormented by his master. It was too much.
Three months. I’ll see him in three months.
She closed her eyes and waited desperately for the turmoil inside her to stop. She had to believe he’d be okay in the meantime, but then she remembered his apologetic look as she’d accused him of being a liar, and her insides practically crumbled. She curled her body in tighter, tensing it to keep out the pain. To guard her against the guilt and agony. “I’m so sorry, Markus,” she whispered.
What did he think of her now?
The way she’d looked at him must have cut him up inside, and then she’d left, and he was alone again. Alone with his abuser and his lackeys. Without knowing she still believed in him. That she still loved him.
She had to keep it together. If she let the guilt build and stay there, she’d go crazy, and she’d be of no use when she returned to Tartarus. She couldn’t let herself be consumed by all the horrible thoughts and feelings. She needed to think about him—about how she’d be there to save him soon and how she’d apologize and kiss him, and hopefully, everything would be okay.
In the meantime, she had to train. But she’d get to that tomorrow. She was still too weak right now. Hopefully, she’d be better tomorrow.
Hopefully.
Markus
Markus went through a grueling punishment process the whole week after Correlia was torn from him, but none of it hurt more than losing her, or the memory of her face as she’d stepped away from him with such sorrow and shock. The look of someone who had been betrayed.
“I’m so sorry, Correlia,” he whispered to the empty space beside him every night. “I wish I could remember.”
Part of his punishment was for Thanatos to strike and scorn him for his disobedience, and he’d scream that Markus was worthless—that he was such scum that he’d even tricked a girl whose parents he’d killed into falling in love with him. But Markus couldn’t get himself to believe any of it. Correlia believed in him, and though it had taken him some getting used to, he’d started to believe her. And he didn’t fully remember that night.
He couldn’t even stomach killing the villagers a couple of weeks ago. He couldn’t imagine having killed people when he was a boy, before his training. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe he was only hoping it wasn’t true because the thought of hurting Correlia in any way made him feel completely gutted.
Day after day, the abuse continued, and he couldn’t help but feel he deserved it. He’d put Correlia in harm’s way. He even fed her the pomegranate. How could he have been so stupid? How had he forgotten the curse of that fruit—the fruit that was only grown in Tartarus and came with such a price?
And he’d given it to Correlia. Like a complete moron.
Guilt racked his body every night when he no longer had pain and training rendering him too weary to think. He’d doomed her to an eternity of agony because he couldn’t stop thinking about her the day they’d met, and because he’d been sloppy. He had no idea how he’d take the throne anymore.
The only reason he hadn’t resigned completely was that there was no alternative. He had to take the throne. He needed to be able to free her, and only he could do it. But only from his place as Hades, ruler of Tartarus.
He couldn’t give up. No matter the odds, he had to keep going. Whenever he thought of her uninhibited laughter and intoxicating smile, the light in her eyes and the softness of her lips, he knew he had to keep her safe. He couldn’t let anyone hurt her.
The thought of her kept him going. Every night, he let his mind wander back to her. He’d recall every part of her—every lively, bright, and beautiful detail—and relive the moments they’d shared.
Weeks of agony went by, but the moment he’d fall into bed each night, he thought of her. And for a moment, the pain would subside. And that kept him going.
She was the most brilliantly beautiful person he’d ever known. Her soul radiated perfection. He was used to such disgusting corruption and evil creatures, but she was the complete opposite. She was light incarnate. She was free, like the air on Olympus—the air she breathed when she was safely away from this place.
The selfish part of him lingered on the image of her lying next to him, wishing she was still here. Wishing he could hold her as she slept. Wishing he could feel the familiar warmth of her body. That body that housed his heart and soul. He was starting to wonder if he could even exist without her now that he’d given so much of himself to her. Part of him only existed within her now.
He did know that he didn’t want to exist without her. That he would gladly give his entire existence to her if it meant keeping her safe and happy. So freely alive. And though she didn’t know it, she was already home to most of his soul. The moment she’d first looked at him, part of his soul had left his body and entered hers. The more enamored he became, the more of him went into her, and when they finally kissed, he became hers completely.
The only way he could feel complete now was if she was next to him. He wanted to weave their souls together and become wholly one. He wanted to kiss her until her mind buzzed to a stop. To feel her body beneath him as he took control of her desires. He wanted to make her feel every good sensation in the world. To see her eyes light up the way he imagined they would when they were finally one in body. He wanted her to breathe his name and be his forever.
He ached for her so much it hurt.
Before she waltzed into his life, he’d resigned to just barely hanging on. But knowing her and feeling her, tasting her, and being loved by her had changed him. It awoke desires he didn’t know he had. Emotionally and physically. And he wanted to live now. Really, truly live.
It wasn’t enough to dream of her, but it was all he could do for now. So every night, he thought of the softness of her skin and the curve of her hips, and the way she lit fire through his bloodstream.
And that’s how he got through those next three months.