Epilogue
Corre
C orre watched Markus pull his shirt over his broad shoulders and admired every muscle on his back. Her mind floated back to their moments of passion. The heat of his body and the feelings of ecstasy. Her brain had turned to syrup, and her body was so light it was hard to tell she was still confined to its physicality.
She sighed and ran her hand over the bedding, feeling its silky, creamy texture on her fingertips. “What are you going to do today?” she asked.
“I haven’t really thought about it.” He turned to smile at her. “I’ve been a little too preoccupied.”
“Fair,” she said coyly, and he fell next to her, bouncing her gently as he leaned into her. He kissed up her neck, and she let her eyes close again. “I’m going to forget how to think if you keep doing that.”
“Then I’ll know I’ve done my job properly.”
“Is that so?” She laughed, but when he got back up again, she couldn’t help but remember the day before. Before all the beauty and bliss. She thought about Nikias and that flash of memory, and about everything that had happened that should have left her fully exhausted if she hadn’t ended the night feeling absolutely euphoric.
“Are you going to—” She started, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to finish the sentence. Maybe she should have thought before starting it, though, because now he was looking at her expectantly, and she knew she had to finish it. “Are you going to address your new subjects . . . and . . .” She stared up at the ceiling, counting every crystal dripping from the chandelier and watching the light fracture off each one.
“What is it you’re not telling me?” he asked.
She picked at the material on the blanket wrapped around her, wishing it was at least a little imperfect so she had a loose thread to focus on. But there was no such thread, so she was forced to look into Markus’s eyes and possibly ruin the moment. He was so happy and peaceful. She didn’t want to take that away.
When she smiled half-heartedly, he frowned and placed a hand on her arm. “What is it?”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She could almost feel the fire from the cottages that day. She remembered the sorrow on her mother’s face, and the moments before her death. She remembered the boy whose parents had willingly done the opposite of what her mother had done, their hands begging Thanatos to take the boy and spare them instead, despite the child’s desperate cries as he clung to his mother’s apron.
A lump formed in her throat, and she had to stare at the light above her to stop tears from falling. She wished she could forget that day and erase the memory of her mother’s death. She hadn’t remembered it for so long. She wished it had never resurfaced, but she also knew it was important to remember.
She thought carefully before responding. “Markus, I knew the general before he came here.” She winced as his face fell. “I know he’s a horrid, wretched man, but I think you should talk to him. I think you should maybe still let him work with the soldiers here. As long as he behaves himself. Maybe that validation could bring him peace. And maybe . . .” She slid her hand into his black, wavy hair. “Maybe that could give you peace, too. Maybe he will finally respect you the way you deserve, and even if he doesn’t, at least you set him free in a way Thanatos never did for you. For either of you. Who knows what he told Nikias about you—what lies he might have spun to pit you two against each other.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. His face was tense, his jaw clenched. But his hand still softly held onto her arm. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“That’s okay!” she said quickly, running her hand through his hair again, then holding onto the back of his neck, moving to face him. “Just something to think about.”
He nodded and, to her surprise, he smiled. “Thank you,” he said softly, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead.
“Of course. I’ll be right there beside you whenever you want to do anything. Whatever you’re ready for, whatever you want to do—about anything—I’ll be with you.” She kissed him on the cheek, and his face fell gently onto hers.
He wrapped her up in him and held her. Her heart warmed again, her mind going hazy. The clenching in her chest stopped, those memories fleeing, unable to compete with the peace Markus brought her.
“There is something I’m ready for,” he finally said.
“Mm?” Her mind was still mush, and the rich deepness of his voice didn’t help.
“I want to see my parents.”
She pushed herself up to look at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “I think I’m ready.” He grabbed her hand, first eclipsing it in his enormous one, and then threading his fingers in hers. “If you come with me. I think I’d be ready to hear them out.” His dark eyes flickered to hers, and she smiled.
“Of course.” She placed her hand on his face, and he leaned into it. “Are you ready to go?”
“Now?”
“I mean, we don’t have to, but nothing is on our agenda today.”
He stared off for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” He let out a long, heavy breath. “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“Let’s get ready to go then.” Corre kept her voice light, hoping it would ease his nerves. She whipped off the blanket and started sliding off the bed. “I’ll just get ready and—”
Markus grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to him.
She blinked up into his eyes and instantly knew what he was thinking. A sly smile crept up his face.
“Maybe we can wait just a little longer.” He moved the back of his hand down the side of her neck and off her shoulder, his eyes following it before slowly making their way back to her gaze.
Heat flooded her face. “Okay,” she said, but she was already breathless. How was it possible that he still made her feel this way after all their activities the night before? A smile formed on her lips. “We have time.” She barely let the last word out before he kissed her, and she fell back onto the bed.
Markus
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Markus asked. He’d roamed these labyrinths hundreds of times over the years, but his brain hadn’t functioned properly in over twenty-four hours thanks to his new queen. He stole another glance of her in her black gown, unable to stop looking at her exposed shoulders and the way the dress fell in perfect folds against the curves of her body. The determination on her flawless face as she guided him through Tartarus was enchanting, and he was convinced she was the only deity worthy of ruling this place. She was the only being, alive or dead, who deserved to rule this place, Olympus, or the Earth itself.
She deserved everything, and he would do everything he could to give her as much of it as possible. He could handle not being able to think anymore if it meant he could be loved by her and be one with her in flesh, bone, and soul.
It was a small price to pay.
Correlia shrugged. “I think so.” She turned to look at him. When she caught him studying her body, he quickly shot his gaze forward. His face instantly went red. She laughed. “We were just intimate. How are you still looking at me like that?”
“I will never stop looking at you like this.” He smiled at her, and the coy look on her adorably scrunching face made his shoulders relax.It was hard to believe he was married to her. Bound to her. She was so perfect. The embodiment of life itself.
To him, she was everything.
“Ah. I think we’re almost here.” She walked in front of him, holding tightly onto one of his hands as she stepped through a dank opening in one of the rocky walls outside the more well-kept labyrinth he was used to roaming.
“Um . . . Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” She shot him a playful glare. “Don’t you question me.”
He lifted his free hand. “I’m sorry, my queen. How could I ever doubt you?”
She started to laugh but was cut short when they rounded the corner and he saw someone at the end of the hall. It looked like an old man stoking a fire. “There he is!” she said, and he couldn’t believe it. Her voice bounced across the rocky walls, and the man turned in their direction.
As soon as Markus saw him, the young Hades froze. He never thought he’d see that face again. Even though they’d gone searching for him, part of him hadn’t believed they’d actually find him. “Father?” he said, and the old man at the end of the corridor dropped the long stick he was using to keep his fire alive.
He walked toward them slowly, with just as much surprise and disbelief as his son. Correlia released Markus’s hand and stepped back. The young god was in a daze, and as he took one final step toward his father, he felt the old man’s hand reach up to touch his face.
“Markus? Is that really you?”
“Yes,” he said in a whisper. A knot formed in his throat, and his chin quivered. The next thing he felt before the tears fell from his eyes was his father bringing him in and holding him tightly against his chest.
“Son. I’ve missed you so much.” Markus let himself cry as he held onto his father. “I thought I’d lost you.”
He tried to compose himself long enough to reply. “I thought you didn’t love me.”
His father pulled back and looked straight into his eyes, his arms gripping Markus’s shoulders. “I have always loved you.”
There was a hole that had always been gaping open in Markus’s heart, and though Correlia was healing him one shattered piece at a time, this filled something she could not fill alone. He was so grateful she’d led him here. That he could reunite with someone he hadn’t known loved him and actually feel loved by a parent. To have someone to properly guide him. Someone far from the treacherously evil god that had raised him with cruelty. Someone who looked to have sacrificed something for him that no other god would. This scruffy-looking man with grayed hair and something in his eyes he’d only seen in Correlia’s. Kindness.
“Father,” he said again, but his voice was shaky. “You’re mortal.”
One side of his father’s lips turned up into a smile, and he grunted out a laugh. “It’s a long story, but I can tell you on the way up to your mother’s.”
Markus froze. “My mother’s?”
His father cocked a brow. “Don’t you want to see her?”
“Yes, of course—"
“Then, let’s go.”
The sun was bright, and that damp scent of Tartarus was gone. Markus had forgotten how warm and sweet it was on Olympus. It reminded him of Correlia, who was squeezing his arm with an unrivaled tightness.
“Why do you seem so nervous?” he asked.
“Do I?”
He laughed. “Just ask my arm.”
“Oh.” She loosened her grip, and he laughed again.
“It’s okay, really, but what are you worried about?”
Markus felt even lighter than he had that morning, which was saying something. His father told him what had happened the day he’d been taken, and memories were slowly finding their way back to him, though they were still muddled. When he heard his father’s words, he half-expected to get the sort of revelations Correlia had—those moments of clarity and remembrance—but he didn’t.
It was okay for now, though, because he felt the realness of his father’s words. He knew in his heart that they were true. One day, he might remember, but for now, hearing the story had been enough. He’d been loved all this time, as Correlia had assured him, and now, he’d finally see his mother’s face after all this time. The woman he sometimes dreamt about, who had held him and sang to him when he was just a child.
“Mother?”
Markus looked up, confused as Correlia uttered the word before running toward a small woman cradling a basket of fruit just a few trees away from them. They were almost out of the woods on their way to one of the peaks of Mt. Olympus. What were the odds that they’d run into Correlia’s mother on the way to see his? It almost seemed like fate, especially for the slight woman whose hands flew to her mouth.
She dropped the basket of fruit she’d been holding as she ran toward Markus’s new wife. He watched the two come together as an armful of fruit rolled down the slight bump in the ground and hit his boot. He couldn’t take his eyes off Correlia as she squeezed the now weeping goddess in her arms.
“Correlia, I thought I’d lost you.” The woman squeezed tighter.
Markus froze at the familiar words, and guilt pinched at his gut. Would Correlia’s mother have gone through what his father had if Markus had never come up here to see his own mother?
He rushed to Correlia’s side. She was already releasing her embrace with her mother when she turned to introduce him. “Mother, this is Markus. My husband.” The pinching in his stomach released. He would never tire of being reminded that he was hers.
He smiled and pulled off one of his gloves to offer his hand to the goddess. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, wondering if that was how people usually introduced themselves. “I’m sorry if I worried you,” he quickly added. “It was not my intent to—”
“Oh hush,” the woman said, waving her hand in the air, and he blinked.
“Wha—"
“Just come here,” she said, now waving both her hands toward herself.
He hesitantly stepped forward, and Correlia laughed. “It’s just a hug, Markus. She’s not going to eat you.”
He chuckled nervously, but he still couldn’t help feeling guilty. He bent down and tried his best to hug this stranger, but she was so small he worried she might break if he embraced her with even a quarter of his usual strength.
She patted his back heartily when he finally did give her an awkward partial hug. She was stronger than she looked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring her to see you sooner.”
“Sooner?” Correlia asked. “Markus, we just woke up less than three hours ago.” He straightened his back, and Correlia reached forward to take his hand. Her voice softened. “It’s okay. No one is upset with you. We would have come to see her soon. I would have asked, and you would have listened.” She looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. “Okay?”
“Okay.” He returned the smile dimpling her cheeks.
“How about you all come to my place? I’ll whip you up something to eat,” Correlia’s mother said.
He opened his mouth to agree. He’d never had Olympus food before, but Correlia shook her head. “We’re a little busy today. Maybe tomorrow?” She looked up at him with a smile, and his heart skipped.
“Tomorrow would be great,” he agreed.
“I’d love that,” the small goddess said, and Correlia gave her one more hug before they started back toward the mountain peak.
“I’ll tell you everything,” she said as she waved to her mother. “Well, almost everything.” She winked at Markus, and his face burned.
He couldn’t bear looking at her mother after that, so he just yelled a quick, “See you tomorrow,” as they headed up to his mother’s cottage. When they got far enough away, he shot Correlia an unamused look. “You’re wicked,” he said, and she smiled mischievously.
“You love it.” She scrunched her nose at him, which gave him the sudden urge to push her against a tree and kiss her ravenously. But his father was still present, and he wanted to stay focused on the matter at hand, so he resisted. He hadn’t seen his mother since he was a child. Now, he would finally have his chance to. It was best to stay focused.
The trek was much longer than Markus had anticipated, and it seemed like their destination would never appear. It didn’t help that his heart was pounding nearly out of his chest the closer the moment approached. When he saw his mother, what would he say? Would she still look the same? What if they ran into Zeus?
“This way,” his father said. “We’re just about there.”
They were higher up than Markus had ever been before. It was a little unnerving as he glanced down the steep side of the mountain. The trees they’d weaved through earlier looked like little vegetables from here. It would be beyond painful if he slipped.
His stomach leapt up his throat.
“Now, who’s nervous?” Correlia teased, and he realized his grip on her hand was tighter than it should have been.
He quickly let go. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
She took it again and reached up to kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.” When she looked ahead again, she pointed. “Look.” He followed her gaze to the small, rectangular cottage, similar in size and color to Correlia’s old home.
He swallowed hard, his skin turning cold. The world was moving slowly around him, and each step was harder to take. What if his mother didn’t want to see him? What if she was disappointed in what he’d become?
“Maybe this was a mistake,” he said.
“What? Markus, no!” Correlia looked up at him frantically.
Thomas stopped and turned to Markus. The wind whipped against his silvery hair as he looked his son in the eyes. There was a gentleness in his voice as he spoke. “It’s all right. She will be happy to see you. Happy is an understatement.” He nodded toward the cottage. “Come on.”
Markus reluctantly continued on. Breathing was difficult, but he kept moving. They stopped at a set of beautifully carved wooden doors. His father knocked on them with a shaky fist. And then it hit him. This was likely the first time Thomas had seen his wife after all these years, too.
But before he could think too much about it, the doors swung open, and a goddess almost as small as Correlia’s mother stood gaping at his father in shock. “Thomas?” she said in disbelief, leaning forward as if to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
“It’s me." He took a step back. “And I brought our son home.”
She looked past her husband at the tall, no-longer-thirteen-year-old standing behind him. Tears formed in her eyes. “Markus?” She said his name in a whisper. She took one hesitant step before rushing to him. There was a desperation in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Is it really you?” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she grabbed hold of his arms, causing that lump to reform in his throat.
“Mother . . .”
She let out a half-sob. “You’re all grown up.” She laughed shakily, and tears fell like rain down her face. “You’re so handsome.” She buried her face in his tunic, and he held her, trying to reconcile this moment with every lie Thanatos had ever told him. In the end, everything his former master had told himwasa lie.
Markus was loved. He hadn’t been abandoned.
Maybe he wasn’t a monster after all.
After a long embrace, his mother sniffed back tears and said, “Come in, come in!” She was smiling now, her youthful face glowing. He couldn’t help but notice that her dark brown eyes matched his own. They were locked on his eyes in disbelief. Then she squeezed his cheek like he was a child again. Right now, it felt like a part of him still was, as he felt his mother’s love and remembered how it felt when she said his name and squeezed his cheek. He couldn’t stop the tears that fell as she led him into the cottage.
There wasn’t a dry eye among them. They embraced that fact as they spent the rest of the day in each other’s company, laughing and eating and learning from each other. Correlia was a delight, as to be expected, and she had Markus and his parents enraptured in her stories and liveliness. She was equally enraptured in the stories they told of when Markus was a child. He loved every minute of it.
When the sky outside turned into a ruddy mixture of orange and red, and Correlia started to yawn, Markus reluctantly decided to call it a day.
“I think we have to go for today,” he said, and his mother frowned.
“What? So soon?”
“Lily, he’s been here for nearly nine hours,” his father said, and Markus couldn’t help but laugh at this slice of a normal life. A life that was now his. He was witnessing bickering parents with his very own eyes.
“We’ll be back,” Correlia said, her voice as light and cheerful as it often was. One of the things he loved about her. “And thank you sooo much for the food. It was wonderful meeting you.”
“You too, dear,” Markus’s mother said as she gave her new daughter-in-law a hug. Her eyes once again met her son’s, and she ran over to embrace him. “I can’t believe you’re really here,” she whispered, and he wrapped her into one last embrace before leaving.
“I can’t believe it, either,” he said, and when he pulled away, he looked up at his father. “Don’t feel like you have to leave. We can make it back on our own.”
Thomas lifted a mug of cider. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” He gave him his signature half-smile but then got up and gave him a hug, too, before the new leaders of the Underworld left the cottage and headed back home.
“Your parents sure are lovely,” Correlia said, and despite his cheeks hurting from smiling so much today, he grinned.
“They are, aren’t they?” He took hold of her hand as they walked down Mt. Olympus, but Markus was in a daze. So much had happened in such a short period of time. His mind was shifting from one thought to another every few seconds. He thought about his parents. About Thanatos. About Nikias. He wondered how much Thanatos had wedged between the two boys. What might the former ruler have said to make the general hate Markus so much?
A flurry of conflicting thoughts and emotions tossed through Markus’s head. He still couldn’t get himself to see Nikias with anything but disdain, but maybe Correlia was right. He needed to give Nikias that one moment of mercy. He needed to talk to him, and maybe he’d get some answers as to how their master had played into their feud.
Thinking about Thanatos still plucked at his nerves, but his thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the beautiful beam of starlight holding his hand.
“Are you okay?” Correlia asked.
Markus’s face had fallen at some point, his features held tightly in a scowl, but when he looked at her, the muscles relaxed, and he was able to smile again. He couldn’t fully explain why, but when he looked at her—and when she looked at him the way she was now—he knew that everything would be okay.
“Yeah. I will be, anyway.” Her face brightened and she threw her arms around him, catching him off guard. “Well, hello,” he said, laughing.
The smile stayed on her lips, and there was a sort of dewy gleam in her eyes. “Will you carry me home?” she asked, the rosy sunset bringing out the golden speckles in her eyes. The warm breeze fluttered through her hair, and he kissed her, tasting the citrus bread they’d eaten before leaving his mother’s cottage.
“I’d love that,” he said, and he pulled her into his arms. She let out an uninhibited giggle as he did it, which made it all the sweeter. It was a miracle they didn’t go tumbling down any hills on the way back to Tartarus because he couldn’t take his eyes off of her the whole way there. She was magnificent. And she was his.
When they finally made it into Tartarus and her feet touched the stone floor, he couldn’t help but notice that despite their dark, gloomy surroundings, a light radiated wherever she walked. Color followed her wherever she went, and he stared at her, sometimes smiling but always in awe, as she twirled her way to their palace. He was so enamored by her. Intoxicated. Utterly, unabashedly in love.
He chased her up the stairs and into the room as she squealed. His arms looped around her as they fell onto the bed, accompanied by her peals of laughter. He traced his finger over her nose, outlining her profile and letting his finger fall to her lips. When she kissed it, he jumped on top of her, and she giggled again. But he didn’t go in to kiss her. Not yet. First, he wanted to look at her, and her full lips turned up into a smile.
Right now, everything he had ever worried about, been sad about, or any conflicting feeling at all, fell away, ceasing to exist. All he saw and felt was her.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She leaned up partway and kissed him. “I love you, too, my king.”
He laughed. “Are we always going to address each other like that?”
She shrugged. “Probably.” A smile broke across his face, and he fell on top of her, showering her with kisses as she laughed and tried kissing him back.
He had never been this happy in his entire life. It almost didn’t seem right to be this happy, but he knew he needed to learn that it was okay. And he would. He’d learn how to accept it. He’d learn how to get used to walking on air.
And it would be glorious.