Книга - Goddess of the Underworld

Goddess of the Underworld
Aimee Carter











Select Praise forAimée Carter’sThe Goddess Test series

“The narrative is well executed, and Kate is a heroine better equipped than most to confront and cope with the inexplicable.”

–Publishers Weekly on The Goddess Test

“Carter’s writing is a delight to read–succinct, clean, descriptive. Goddess Interrupted is definitely a page-turner, one full of suspense, heartbreak, confusion, frustration and yes, romance.” –YA Reads on Goddess Interrupted






Also byAimée Carter

The Goddess Test Novelsin reading order:

THE GODDESS TEST

“The Goddess Hunt” (ebook)

GODDESS INTERRUPTED





and the upcoming

THE GODDESS INHERITANCE




Goddess

of the

Underworld

Aimée Carter







www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)






For Carrie Harris, who is one of a kind,

brilliantly hilarious,

and knows just what to say to vanquish the crazies.

JUICES.




GUIDE OF GODS







PART ONE




















For the first sixteen years of my life, Mother told me my wedding day would be one of the happiest in my eternal existence. That the birds would sing, the air would smell like flowers and the sun would shine. Every last detail would be perfect.

Like an idiot, I’d believed her.

The sun didn’t shine in hell, and unless bats counted, there weren’t any birds in the endless Underworld palace, either. To make things worse, the infinite rock surrounding the cavern weighed down on me, growing heavier with every passing second. I was trapped, literally and figuratively. And I had no idea how to dig myself out of this one.

Mother did manage to keep her word about the flowers, though. As I paced from one end of the chamber to the other, eleven steps in each direction, I had to zigzag my way around the endless bunches of wildflowers that covered every available surface. The perfume was strong enough to knock out Cerberus, but at least it didn’t smell like death.

“Persephone?” Mother poked her head into the room. Given the way she glowed, I would’ve guessed this was her wedding, not mine. “It’s time. How are you feeling?”

She knew exactly how I felt about all of this. She didn’t want the truth—she wanted false affirmation that I was as happy as she was. “I don’t want to do this,” I said. No use holding back now.

“Sweetheart,” said Mother in a tone she must have thought was understanding, but was really the same one she’d used to convince me to do this in the first place. She stepped inside the chamber and closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I don’t want to marry Hades.” Searching for a place to sit, I spotted a chair in the flowered jungle, but a bouquet of purple blossoms already claimed it. I huffed and sank to the floor instead. “You told me the Underworld wasn’t so bad.”

“It isn’t.” She knelt beside me. “You’ve only seen the palace. There’s an entire world out there—”

“It feels like a cage. It’s heavy and unnatural and—I want to stay in Olympus with you.” My voice hitched, and I blinked rapidly. Breaking into tears would’ve been a surefire way to make Mother believe I was simply too emotional to think clearly. I’d never thought more clearly in my life, though.

Mother wrapped her arms around me, and for a moment I allowed myself to lean against her. “You’ve known this was coming for a long time, my darling. I would never allow this if I wasn’t absolutely certain you would love him.”

“But I don’t.” Didn’t she understand that?

“You will, in time.”

“What if I never do?”

“Persephone, look at me.” She tilted my head upward, and my eyes met hers. “You will. Trust me.” Her confidence should’ve sparked the same in me, but I was empty. “I’ll come visit you all the time. This is the beginning of the rest of your life, not the end.”

She was wrong—it was the end of everything that mattered. The end of days picking flowers and soaking in the sunlight, the end of nights sitting in her lap as she told me stories. A deep ache filled me, and I swallowed hard. No crying. Not today.

“I am so proud to call you my daughter,” she murmured. “Eventually you will understand why I asked this of you. In time, you will be happier here with Hades than you could ever be with me in Olympus.”

Mother had never been so wrong so many times in a row before. I couldn’t be happy, not in this underground cavern. Not without the sun. Not without her.

“Hades loves you already, my darling. He is quiet, and he doesn’t love out loud like you may be used to, but that doesn’t make his love any less strong. You’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Reluctantly I nodded. I’d seen it, that piercing stare when he thought I wouldn’t notice. The way his eyes seemed to follow me as I moved across the room. Not in a predatory way, but as if he was concerned. As if he cared. Maybe he secretly wasn’t crazy about this whole thing, either.

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” she murmured. “Do you trust me to want only the best for you?”

I loved her. I trusted her. And her pride filled me in a way I was certain Hades’s so-called love never could. But maybe she was right—maybe in time I would love him. Maybe if this wasn’t an arranged marriage, I would’ve loved him anyway. But she and my father had stolen that chance from me.

“You’ll find happiness here,” she said. “You’ll find your purpose, and I will never be far. We all have roles in our lives, Persephone—roles we may not initially enjoy, but roles we soon realize are necessary. You were born to do this, my darling, and Hades loves you. Trust me when I say that. I love you too much to ever allow anyone to hurt you, including myself.”

I swallowed. She did love me. Out of everything in the world, that was the one thing I knew to be completely, unequivocally true. And because of that, I let her help me up, my legs unsteady beneath me.

“My beautiful girl. The love of my life.” She plucked a purple blossom from the bouquet in the chair and secured it in my curls. Strawberry-blond now, as autumn set in. “You are perfect.”

I ached to believe her, but as she led me into an antechamber, a melody from the strings of Apollo’s lute filtered through the air. And instead of reminding me of harmony and love, the notes were mournful to my ear, fitting perfectly with the bleakness of this realm.

This wasn’t my wedding. It was my funeral.

She looped her arm in mine, and a pair of double doors opened, revealing the throne room of the Underworld. With its obsidian pillars and curtains of black-and-gold that hung from high windows, it was nothing like the throne room of Olympus. Nothing like my home.

Mother stayed with me until we reached the front of the throne room, where Hades stood between a pair of diamond thrones. His, a black one I’d seen countless times during council meetings, and mine. White diamond—a present from Hades, welcoming me to the Underworld. And from the council, welcoming me as their equal.

But I would never be their equal, and they knew it as well as I did. An equal would’ve been allowed to make her own decisions, not pawned off in an arranged marriage at sixteen. If they thought I would lie down and take it, they were dead wrong.

“I love you,” whispered Mother. I stayed silent. Taking my hand, she placed it in Hades’s, his skin warmer than I expected. His silver eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine.

I was his for eternity now.



I couldn’t hide behind the wedding forever. The other members of the council seemed to enjoy themselves, dancing and drinking well into the night. Hera remained close, eyeing me every so often, but she didn’t speak to me. Could she sense the mountain of anxiety forming in my chest? Could she see my fear growing with every moment I remained inside my stone cage? More than the rest of us, she cared about marriages being successful. Could she tell how much I hated mine already? Did she regret giving her blessing?

I wished she hadn’t. Maybe then my parents would’ve never forced me into this. I was hours into my marriage, and already I felt weighed down by rock and invisible chains. Not exactly an auspicious start.

At last only Hades, me and Mother remained, and after Hades excused himself for his chambers—our chambers now—she pulled me into a tight hug. “He loves you,” she murmured. “I know it may not feel like it, but he would have never married you if he didn’t.”

I buried my face in her shoulder. It wasn’t his love I was concerned about. It was mine. For as long as I’d been aware of what marriage was, I’d known I was promised to Hades, and I’d been absolutely certain I would love him by now. Enough to be content, at least, if not thrilled. And while I tried to grab on to the single wisp of love I may or may not have felt for him, it was beyond my reach.

But it would come closer the more time I spent with him, the more smiles and words and touches we shared. It had to. Aphrodite hadn’t chosen her husband either, after all, and now she’d spent the entire day cuddling up to him. And Hera, who had chosen hers, was completely miserable.

So maybe Mother was right. Maybe love was in that room, waiting for me, and all I had to do was go in there and get it.

“You’ll come visit me?” I said. “Or I could come visit you.”

“Both,” she said, kissing my cheek. “All the time, as much as you want. Just make sure you don’t neglect your duties down here, darling. And remember—happiness is a choice, but so is misery. Choose wisely.”

She let me go, and I reluctantly dropped my arms. Giving me a reassuring smile, she turned to go, but before she reached the door, I blurted, “It’ll be okay, right?”

Mother looked over her shoulder. “It already is. Go to your husband, Persephone. Give him a chance to make you happy.”

She left, the door closing behind her, and I exhaled. Hades was really my husband. My king. I was married now, and things would never go back to the way they’d been. This was my life now.

Time to face it.

The door into Hades’s chambers opened easily. I stepped inside, expecting it to be dark and dank, like the rest of the Underworld, but instead the large room was lit with dozens of floating candles. They cast a soft glow on the plush bed, where Hades sat waiting for me, and a fist wrapped around my guts. This was it.

“Persephone.” He rose and offered me his hand, his silver eyes searching mine. I didn’t know what else to do, so I threaded my fingers through his. We were friends, sort of. Growing up knowing who I was going to marry took the choice out of it, sure, but it’d also given me a lifetime of getting to study him. Mother was right—he was a good man. He did love me. And being here with him wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever experienced.

I stared at him for the space of several heartbeats, and at last I whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m not—I’m not really sure what to say.”

He smiled, crinkles appearing around his eyes. “Then allow me to break the silence by saying how lovely you look tonight. You always do, of course.” He touched one of my curls. They would change with the seasons, auburn in the coming months before turning black for the winter solstice, and then as spring came, they would lighten to brown. Finally, in the summer, I would be blond. It’d never served a purpose before, but now I would never lose track of the seasons in the Underworld.

I sank onto the edge of the bed. It was strange being alone with him—despite Mother’s insistence that he and I get to know each other, she’d always been present. He felt older somehow, and power radiated effortlessly from him. As he sat down beside me, however, he gently cupped my hand in both of his.

“You’re nervous,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t wait for me to answer. “I am, too.”

I scoffed. “You’re King of the Underworld. What do you possibly have to be nervous about?”

He hesitated, brushing his thumb against my knuckles. The gesture was almost intimate in its simplicity, and a shiver ran through me. “I am nervous that I cannot give you everything you deserve.”

“What do you mean?”

He squeezed my hands. “You could do so many things with your existence, yet you are down here with me. I cannot tell you what that means to me. No one …” He paused, and the cords in his neck stood out. “No one has chosen me before, not because of who I am. Not for pure reasons. That you are willing to try is everything I have never had before.”

Warmth filled me, and I inched closer to him. It wasn’t so hard to see his life through his eyes, all those eons of loneliness. “I’m going to try,” I promised. “I want—I want to be with you.”

I wasn’t sure I did, really, but I also wasn’t sure I didn’t. I would’ve liked the choice, but that had always been out of my control. This—the here and now, how good we were together, that was at least half in my control. And knowing Hades was willing to try to make this work made all the difference.

“I know that this marriage will take time to settle for both of us, but we will grow together. We will learn together,” he said, raising my hand to his lips.

Yes, we would. Underneath his piercing gaze, I relaxed. It would be all right. Mother knew what she was doing, and she would’ve never married me off to Hades if she wasn’t absolutely sure we would work. But even as I thought it, I grew painfully aware of the stone surrounding me. No matter how I felt about it, I was still trapped down here. Fooling myself into being happy wouldn’t change that. It wouldn’t give me my choice and freedom back.

I straightened and took a deep breath. Yes, it would. Happiness was a choice, exactly as Mother had said. And this was a choice I could make.

I didn’t ask. I didn’t hesitate. Instead I leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, the kind of kiss I’d never given anyone before. The kind of kiss Aphrodite gave to Hephaestus. The kind of kiss I wanted Hades to give to me.

It was warm and wet and not what I expected, not at all. It didn’t sizzle or sparkle or make me love him. It didn’t open up a whole new world of possibilities. It was just that—lips against lips, a soft mouth against my own. And to make matters worse, Hades didn’t kiss me back.

I opened my eyes. His were open as well, cloudy with questions, but I didn’t give him the chance to speak. I knew what he would say if I did—was I sure I wanted to do this now? Did I want to wait until we knew each other better?

But I wanted that love. I needed that love to make the rock melt away, to make everything not so bad. And if I could make myself love him as much as he loved me … maybe it would all be okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be a prison.

So I kept kissing him. My hands fumbled down his front, pushing away his clothes and brushing against his warm skin. I could do this. I would do this, and once we were together in the most intimate way possible, it would all click. We would be happy, and it wouldn’t be an illusion. It would be my choice.

As I drew him down onto the bed, however, he broke away. “Persephone—”

“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he fell silent. I kissed him again, pulling him as close to me as possible. I’d never had someone pressed against me like this before, and his body was solid, weightier than I’d expected. Not that I’d expected much, but it still felt foreign.

I didn’t let myself stop. Soon enough we were both completely undressed, and as he settled over me, I pushed away every last shred of fear that haunted me. We were doing this together, and no matter how exposed and terrified I was, lying there in his bed, I would not back down.

One night of swallowing my fears, one night of being with him like this, and that wisp of love would turn into a howling storm. I just needed to get through tonight.

“Do it,” I whispered, and when he opened his mouth again, undoubtedly to protest, I silenced him with a burning kiss.

Everything would be fine. Better than fine.

It had to be.



It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t even close to fine.

Our bodies didn’t fit. Maybe it was my virginity, or maybe he was unnaturally blessed, but whatever it was, it was hot, sticky, uncomfortable, awkward, everything it wasn’t supposed to be. And had I not been immortal, I was sure it would’ve been one of the most painful experiences of my life.

To make matters worse, he didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, either, and we both fumbled through it. It might’ve been intimate, but it wasn’t sexy or loving. It was all physical, nothing emotional, and by the time it was over, I was struggling to hold back tears.

Hades rolled off me, his chest heaving. As his eyes searched mine, his brow furrowed, and he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, too close to breaking down to speak. It wasn’t his fault. I’d been the one to pressure him into this, to force us both before we were ready. But the part of me drowning in anger and disappointment blamed him. He could’ve done what I hadn’t had the courage to do and walked away. He could’ve said no to my father when he’d suggested this marriage to begin with.

“It will get better,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Silence surrounded us, and I knew without asking that he was waiting for me to say it back. To offer him one small affirmation that this wasn’t a complete disaster. But it was, and a tear slid down my face, too fast for me to catch it.

In the glow of the candlelight, Hades’s expression crumbled. He knew what my silence meant, and for a moment, he seemed to fold into himself. His shoulders hunched and his head bowed, and his fingers dug into the sheets. I didn’t offer him any comfort. I couldn’t. I’d only be lying to us both.

At last Hades came to life and pulled a silk blanket up to cover me. He didn’t try to touch me, though he did watch me for a long moment. I turned away. I didn’t want his guilt as well as mine.

Eventually the candles burned out, or maybe Hades extinguished them. Either way, in the darkness, the rock weighed down even heavier around me, and I could barely breathe.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be here with a man I didn’t love. Married or not, his queen or not, I was a person, not an object, and my parents had had no right to do this to me in the first place. But here we were, both of us victims, both of us painfully aware of the wall between us now. It hadn’t been there before the wedding, but now, because of me, because of my parents …

I didn’t sleep, and judging from Hades’s breathing, neither did he. At last, when it was time to get up—how Hades could tell without the sun, I had no idea—I waited until he dressed and disappeared before I got out of bed and bathed. I had two options: I could stick around and accept my fate, or I could fight for my freedom.

No contest.

As soon as I finished washing off any last trace of the night before, I hurried out of the bedroom, nearly crashing headfirst into Hades in the hall. Though he carried a tray, he managed to sidestep me without dropping anything. For a long moment, we stared at each other.

“Where …” He paused and clutched the tray, loaded with my favorite fruits, breads and cheeses. He was bringing me breakfast in bed. “Where are you going?”

Another wave of guilt washed over me. Even after last night, he was still trying to make me happy. “I—I need to see Mother,” I said, my voice hitching. “Can I …?”

“Of course.” He set the tray down on an end table and reached for me, though he pulled away at the last second. “I’ll take you up to Olympus.”

I followed him through the hallway to the private entrance, and together we walked down the cavern path that led to the portal between realms. Seeing the rock around me only made the weight on my chest worse, and by the time we reached the crystal circle in the ground, I could barely see straight.

“Are you all right?” said Hades, touching my elbow. Though it wasn’t much, it was enough to remind me of the night before, and I shuddered. He immediately dropped his hand.

“I’m sorry, I just—I need to—I need to go to Olympus. Can you show me how?” Technically, before my wedding and coronation, I’d been unable to, but now, as Queen of the Underworld, I had that power.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Of course. I have to touch you to get you there. Is that all right?”

I nodded, and he set his hand on my back. It was a familiar touch, the kind only two people who knew each other well could share, and his skin burned against mine.

Why was it this bad? Sure, the night before hadn’t been at all what I’d been raised to expect from watching Aphrodite and her lovers, but plenty of people had gone through worse. So why did the very thought of him make me sick to my stomach?

“Like this,” he said quietly, and I felt a rush of power emanate from him, dark and rich and completely repugnant. But there was no escaping him as we raced upward through the rock, and by the time we burst into the open sky, I was nauseous. From the journey, from the Underworld, from Hades’s touch or ancient power, I didn’t know, but all I wanted was to go home.

At last we landed in the middle of Olympus, and I broke away from him and ran as fast as I could. Through the throne room, into the hallway, toward Mother’s room, everything around me a blur. The golden sunshine that reflected off every inch of Olympus seemed to fill me from the inside out, and by the time I burst into her chambers, I was glowing. “Mother!”

“Persephone?” She stood and opened her arms, and I melted into them. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Is Hades with you?”

I nodded, and something about hearing her voice and feeling her familiar presence made that dam inside me snap. I broke into rough sobs, clutching her as hard as I could. I wouldn’t let her go again, not for anything.

Somehow Mother managed to guide me to her bed, and together we sank down. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She tried to pull away, but I held on. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

But it was. I couldn’t explain it to her—I couldn’t even explain it to myself—but in that moment, I would’ve rather faded for eternity than go back to the Underworld with Hades. I didn’t belong there. We didn’t belong together, and it was all a mistake—a stupid mistake that Mother could fix.

“Please,” I gasped between sobs. “Don’t make me go back there.”

Her arms tightened around me. “What happened? Darling, if you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.”

I opened my mouth to try to find the words, but before I could say a single one—

“Persephone?”

I looked up, my lower lip trembling. “Father?”

Zeus stepped into the room, his brow knit and mouth turned downward. Father or not, I’d never spent much time with him beyond what little bonding assuaged his guilt. But I would’ve taken his awkward hugs and nasty temper a thousand times over before I went back to Hades.

“Persephone, your husband is waiting for you in the throne room,” he admonished. “He’s quite worried.”

I sniffed, refusing to lessen my grip on Mother. “I can’t go back there. I can’t breathe.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a goddess. You don’t need to breathe,” said Zeus. “Now, explain to me what this tantrum of yours is all about.”

“Zeus,” said Mother in a warning tone, but he didn’t budge. He stared at me, his blue eyes stormy and his arms crossed over his broad chest. I’d never been afraid of him before, but tension crackled in the air sure as lightning. One wrong word, and daughter or not, he’d treat me like a traitor.

“I can’t—” I hiccupped. “The rock’s too heavy, and—Hades, we—” My face grew hot. “Please don’t make me go back.”

“You have no choice in the matter,” said Zeus. “You are Queen of the Underworld now, and that is not a crown you can give up.”

“I don’t care, just—please. I’ll do anything,” I begged. “I can’t go back.”

Mother sighed. “You’ve been there all of one night. Things will get easier. I know it’s a change from Olympus—”

“Have you ever spent the night down there?” I said, and she hesitated.

“No, but—”

“I can’t, Mother. Please.”

She frowned and shared a look with Zeus. “Your father’s right. You’re Queen, and like it or not, that is not a role you can relinquish. Regardless of your marriage, Hades needs your help ruling, and you’ve already made a commitment. You cannot back out of it no matter how different it is from your expectations.”

My entire body felt as if it had turned to stone. I’d expected opposition from Zeus, of course. He was never agreeable about anything. But my own mother …

“You don’t understand.” I pulled away and stood on trembling legs. “It’s not natural down there. It’s—cold and dark and twisted, and I can’t breathe—”

“Again with the breathing,” said Zeus, and Mother shushed him.

“—and I don’t love him, Mother. I can’t spend my life down there.”

“Love?” Her confused expression morphed into a sympathetic one, and humiliation coursed through me. I didn’t want her pity. I wanted her understanding. “Persephone, love has very little to do with it. Hades loves you, of course, but your love for him won’t come immediately. You must give it time.”

“But how can I love something completely unlovable?” My voice broke, and I wiped my cheeks angrily.

“You can, and eventually you will. In many ways, Hades is the most loving of us all,” said Mother. “Do not be fooled by his dark kingdom. There is beauty in it, and despite a difficult night, things will get easier. Happiness is a choice—”

“And I choose not to be.” The words came out as a broken sob. “You’re going to do this to me? You’re going to damn your only daughter to a life down there with him?”

Mother faltered. “Sweetheart, please. Tell me what brought this on.”

But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what specific thing was behind the wall of hatred and anger inside me. I didn’t know what made me want to run, but that didn’t make it any less real. “He just—” I shook my head. “It isn’t right.”

“Take it one step at a time,” said Mother in what she must’ve meant to be a soothing voice, but it made me shudder. “If you didn’t enjoy consummating your marriage, that’s natural. The first time is almost never—”

“It isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?” She reached for me, but I stepped back. My entire body trembled so badly that I had to struggle to stay upright. It was as if I was fighting an invisible force just by being in the room, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“I just—I don’t belong there. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Mother and Zeus exchanged another look, and Zeus cleared his throat. “You will return to the Underworld with Hades, and you will obey him as you would obey me. He is your husband now, and you will not dishonor me by evading your duties. Do you understand?”

My eyes watered until I couldn’t make out his features. But I knew that voice—it was the voice of a king, the one he used when we had absolutely no choice. The voice he’d used to tell me I’d be marrying Hades on my sixteenth birthday no matter how I felt about it.

I couldn’t respond. Every time I opened my mouth, that wall of hatred and resentment was there, and finally I dashed past him and fled the room. I couldn’t do this no matter how often he threatened me, and the fact that he and Mother refused to so much as consider my feelings—it wasn’t fair. I needed to get away from that unyielding revulsion. I needed to get away from my life.

As I ran down the hallway, I nearly barreled headfirst into Hera. Had she been there the entire time? Our eyes locked, and she opened her mouth to say something, but I regained my footing and rushed past her. I didn’t care if she’d overheard. I didn’t care if she empathized with being trapped in a loveless marriage. There was nothing she could possibly say or do to change my parents’ minds, and I didn’t need pity. I needed an escape.

At last I made it to the throne room. A few feet from the portal, Hades waited with Hermes, who wore a bewildered expression. As I stumbled onto the crystal circle, Hades moved to join me, but Hermes darted in front of him, blocking his way. Whatever his reason was, I didn’t have time to find out. I dropped from Olympus, the wind rushing through my hair and whipping it across my face.

Freedom. And free-falling, apparently. I’d never used a portal by myself, and I opened my mouth in a silent scream. So maybe not waiting for Hades hadn’t been the best idea, but I would’ve rather plummeted to earth than let him join me.

I expected a crash landing, the sort that would leave an indentation in the ground for curious mortals to ponder, but as my feet touched the earth, I stopped. No hard landing. No real impact. I didn’t even leave footprints on the grass.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and looked around. I stood in a meadow full of purple flowers that danced in the breeze, and it was warm despite the late hour of wherever it was I’d landed. A beautiful summer evening.

Why couldn’t Hades live on the surface? Why did he have to be near his subjects at all times? Zeus certainly wasn’t. I sat down heavily in the middle of the field, passing my hand through the tall grass. This was my home, surrounded by warmth and nature and life. Not encased in stone.

The wind picked up for a moment, and something rustled behind me. Hades, no doubt, coming to reclaim me and drag me back to that dark place. I refused to turn around. He couldn’t have me, not anymore.

“Persephone?”

I exhaled. Not Hades. “Hermes? What are you doing here?”

“You’re upset,” he said as he moved to sit in front of me. We’d grown up together, babies compared to the rest of the council, and seeing him now made me more homesick than ever. “Did Hades hurt you?”

He was the first person to acknowledge that maybe this wasn’t my fault, and my heart swelled in gratitude. “N-no.” I hiccupped. “I just—I can’t go back.”

He took my hands, his fingers smooth and cool. That small gesture of affection was enough to make me break down all over again, and I rested my head on his shoulder as I cried. I hated feeling like this—I hated not having the courage to give Hades a chance. But it wasn’t him. It was the feeling of being suffocated, smothered, burned out before I’d had the chance to live. Why hadn’t I questioned my parents earlier? Why hadn’t I demanded a chance to get to know Hades and the Underworld better? Why hadn’t they given me a choice?

Because they’d known what I would say if they had. They must have. Mother knew me better than I knew myself, and my trust in her—the same trust that had made me take the plunge into this marriage—was too absolute for me to question it before. Even now I second-guessed myself. Was I being hasty? Should I give Hades a chance? Did I even have a choice?

No, and that only made me cry harder. I didn’t have a choice. Whether I liked it or not, I would have to return to the Underworld. Unless—

My eyes flew open, and I sat up. Hermes straightened as well, but I spoke before he could utter a word. “Run away with me.”

His lips formed a perfect circle. “What?”

“You heard me. Run away with me. We can go someplace they’ll never find us, like Aphrodite and Ares did, and—and we can be happy.”

“Wait.” He pulled away from me. “You mean you want—you and me—”

I shivered. After last night, I never wanted to have that sort of relationship with anyone ever again. “No, I mean—as friends. Brother and sister, whatever we are.” We weren’t, technically, since Zeus had taken different forms to father us and we had different mothers. But I needed someone else to love me. I didn’t care what kind of love it was, as long as it meant I could get away from Hades. “Please.”

Hermes hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Hope blossomed inside my chest, pushing aside the coldness and despair. He was considering it. He was really considering it.

“Persephone …” He took my hands in his again. “You know I want nothing more than to see you happy, but Zeus already forbade anyone from interfering with your marriage. If we left, Zeus and Hades would both hunt us down, and I’d get a lightning bolt to the skull for sure.”

My heart sank, and that delicate bubble of hope deflated. “He really ordered everyone not to help me?”

Hermes nodded. “I’m sorry. But maybe you and Hades could talk it out. You could just be his queen and not his wife, right? He needs you to help him rule, not warm his bed.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting another wave of tears. I was never getting out of this. Not now, not in a thousand years, not ever. Not as long as Zeus treated me like property and Hades went along with him. “He would never agree,” I whispered.

“So don’t give him a choice.” Hermes tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle that I shifted closer. “Just tell him. You’re stronger than you think you are, Persephone. Never question that. You can do whatever you set your mind to, circumstances be damned.”

“I wish—” My voice broke, and I swallowed thickly. “I wish I were like Aphrodite. I wish I had the strength to do what she did.”

“Maybe someday you will,” he said. “You just need to find the right person is all. If Hades isn’t it, then there’s nothing wrong with that. This doesn’t have to be forever if you don’t want it to be.”

I snorted despite myself. “Everything in our family is forever.”

“Only the good things,” he said. “We usually find a way to fix the bad ones.”

“Don’t see how anyone would agree to let me off the hook if I don’t even try.”

“Then try. Do whatever you have to do to prove to yourself and the rest of the council that it isn’t a good fit.”

“Hades will never let me go,” I mumbled. “Not now, not in a hundred years, not ever. He loves me.”

“If he really loves you, then once he understands how miserable you are, he will let you go,” said Hermes. “Just because he’s a good guy doesn’t mean he’s a good guy for you.”

I shook my head. “You can say all the pretty things you want, but that won’t change anything.”

“You’re right,” he said. “The only one who can change any of this is you. You just have to try.”

“But I already did.”

“I know. They should’ve listened.” He pulled me into a hug. The weight of his arms around my shoulders was a comfort, and I managed to relax against him. At least I had someone on my side.

A moment later, the breeze picked up again, and I sensed a second presence in the meadow. The sun dipped beneath the horizon, and Hermes stiffened. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Please,” I whispered one last desperate time. “I’ll do anything.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Hermes’s voice was low and his words rushed. “Listen—I’ll visit you all the time, I promise. You won’t be alone. Just do me a favor and give yourself a chance, all right? Do whatever you have to do to be happy, even if that means upsetting the council. They’ve already had their say. Now it’s your turn.”

I pressed my lips together. Being that kind of selfish went against everything Mother had taught me. Be there for others; place their happiness above my own; be content with my life; don’t be greedy or envious or unkind; appreciate the warmth and love around me, and don’t covet what I don’t have.

But how could I appreciate what wasn’t there? Hades may have loved me, but what did that mean if I couldn’t feel it? He could love me more than anyone loved anyone else in the entire world, and it still wouldn’t help if I didn’t love him back. Maybe in time I would adjust and grow to love him, but right now, all I could think about was the rock weighing down on me and the feeling of Hades’s body over mine. And I didn’t have the patience to wait.

“Promise me, Persephone,” whispered Hermes, and at last I nodded.

“I promise.”

Behind me, something—rather, someone—cast a shadow over me with what little daylight remained, and I shivered. “Hades.”

“I am sorry to interrupt,” he said quietly, and there was something about the way he said it that made me think he really was. “If I could speak with you alone, Persephone?”

Hermes nodded, and before I could protest, he untangled himself from me and stood. “I’ll see you around,” he said to me, and at least I knew he wasn’t just saying that. At sixteen, he was training for his role on the council, as I was, and part of that included guiding the dead down to the Underworld. Chances were good I’d see him often, and that one reminder was enough for me to breathe easier. It wouldn’t be just me and Hades down there. I had to remember that.

Once Hermes walked off into the woods, Hades knelt beside me. His long, dark hair, usually so impeccable, was mussed, and his fingers dug into his thighs. “I owe you an apology.”

Not this again. “You don’t owe me anything,” I mumbled, staring down at a lopsided blossom. “I’m sorry I ran up here.”

“Do not be,” he said. Neither of us could look at the other. “What happened last night … I promise you it will not happen again, not unless we are both willing and prepared.”

His words twisted something in my gut. I’d been willing last night. Nervous, but willing, and determined to get it over with. Had he not been? Had I taken that from him? Was that part of the reason why things were so terrible between us?

“I don’t …” The words stuck in my throat, and I struggled to swallow them.

Just tell him.

Hermes’s voice echoed through my mind, gentle but unyielding, and finally I opened my mouth and blurted, “I want a separate bedroom.”

Hades blinked, clearly startled. “Is there something wrong with—”

“Yes,” I said before I lost my nerve. “I’m scared of you. I’m scared of this. And if I can’t stay up here, then I don’t want to stay with you down there.”





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