“Do you need something?” she asked.
Hades reached behind him and turned the lock into place.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Persephone pushed away from her desk but remained seated.
“Talk,” she said.
He approached, massive frame practically filling the room, body rigid and she thought he must be angry with her which made her frustrated. It was he who had taken their training too far—and yet, even she realized the value of what Hades had been teaching—no other god would have been merciful.
Hades knelt before her and his hands spread out over her knees.
“I am sorry,” he said, holding her gaze. “I went too far.”
Persephone swallowed and looked away. It was hard to hold his gaze given that all she could recall right now was how he’d looked in death.
“You never told me you had the power to summon fears,” she said, her voice quiet.
“Was there ever a time to speak of it?”
There wasn’t—she knew that. Still, it was part of her desire to know everything about him—the powers he possessed, the charities he maintained, the deals he made.
When she didn’t respond, Hades spoke. “If you will let me, I’d like to train you differently,” he said. “I’ll leave the magic to Hecate and instead I will help you study the powers of the gods.”
Persephone’s brows rose. “You would do that?”
“I would do anything if it meant protecting you,” he said. “And since you will not agree to being locked away in the Underworld, this is the alternative.”
She smiled at him.
“I’m sorry I left,” she said.
“I do not blame you,” he said. “It is not very different from what I did when I took you to Lampri. Sometimes, it’s very hard to exist in the place where you experience terror.”
Persephone swallowed hard. That’s exactly what it had been, and it had all felt so real.
“Are you angry with me?” Hades whispered.
Persephone looked at him again. “No. I know what you were trying to do.”
“I would like to tell you that I will protect you from everyone and everything,” he said. “And I would. I would keep you safe forever within the walls of my realm, but I know what you wish is to protect yourself.”
She nodded, and within his gaze she saw the conflict of his soul. He would have to let her hurt so that she could be powerful.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He smiled faintly, and then her eyes shifted to the copy of New Athens News on her desk, darkening.
“I assume you have already read this,” she said.
“Ilias sent it this morning,” Hades said. “Theseus is playing with fire and he knows it.”
“Do you think Zeus will act?”
Last time Zeus had spoken out against Triad, many Faithful mortals had organized to hunt down its members. The problem was, not every person who identified as Impious was a member of Triad. Still, they were slain.
“I do not know,” he admitted. “I do not think my brother sees Triad as a threat, he does, however, see your mother’s association as dangerous which is why he shifted his focus to her.”
“What will become of her if Zeus can find her?”
“If she ceases her attack upon the Upperworld? Probably nothing.”
Again, she heard Demeter’s voice.
Consequences for gods? No, Daughter, there are none.
“You mean she will get away with the murder of Tyche?”
Hades did not speak.
“She must be punished, Hades.”
“She will be,” he replied. “Eventually.”
“Not only in Tartarus, Hades.”
“In time, Persephone,” Hades said gently, and his touch shifted from her knees to her hands which she had curled into tight fists. “No one—not the gods, certainly not me—will keep you from retribution.”
There was silence, and then Hades rose.
“Come,” he said, slipping his fingers between hers and drawing her to her feet.
Her brows drew together. “Where are we going?”
“I just wanted to kiss you,” he said, bringing his mouth to hers. His magic surfaced, and she felt the familiar pull of teleportation. When they drew apart, they stood in the middle of a clearing in the Upperworld. It was covered in snow and surrounded by thick trees, bent with ice. Still, it was beautiful. When she turned, she found a building—Halcyon. It was still under construction, just a skeleton of the structure it would become, but it was clear it would be magnificent.
“Oh,” Persephone breathed.
“I cannot wait for you to see it in the Spring,” he said. “You will love the gardens.”
“I love it all,” she said. “I love it now.”
She looked at Hades then, at the snow in his hair and on his lashes.
“I love you.”
Hades kissed her before guiding her through the labyrinth that would be Halcyon. The walls were up, the drywall in place. He named each room as if he knew the layout by heart—reception and dining, community and residents’ rooms, and spaces for various types of therapy. Finally, they came to a space on the top floor, after climbing several sets of stairs. It was a large room that overlooked the garden that would be dedicated to Lexa. In the distance, all the way around the room, Persephone could see the misty skyline of New Athens.
It was breathtaking.
“What room is this?” she asked.
“Your office,” Hades said.
“Mine? But I—”
“I have an office at every business I own, why shouldn’t you?” he said. “And even if you do not work here often, we’ll put it to use.”
Persephone laughed, and Hades smiled in return. They stared at one another for a moment. There was a tension between them she wanted to mend—it did not come from their anger or their distance, but from something far more primal. She felt it within her—a pull tied so deep, it made her bones ache.
She shivered.
“We should return,” Hades said.
Still neither of them moved.
“Hades,” Persephone whispered his name, an invitation. In the next second, their mouths collided. Hades pressed into her, his erection hard between her hips as she hit the wall. His hands curled around her wrists as he pinned them beside her head.
“I need you,” he breathed, kissing down her jaw and neck. His hands moved, fingers pressing firmly into her ass, bunching her skirt. Persephone’s breath came fast, fingers fumbling for the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin against hers.
“Stop that!”
Apollo appeared only a few feet away. He looked annoyed, as if he were the one who was interrupted. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a white tunic-style shirt that had a laced V-neck. His curls were unruly and fell playfully against his forehead.
“Go away, Apollo,” Hades growled, still working his way down Persephone’s neck to her collarbone.
“Hades,” her fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket.
“No-can-do, Lord of the Underworld,” Apollo said. “We have an event.”
Hades sighed—which sounded more like a growl—and pried himself from Persephone. She worked to catch her breath and straightened her skirt and blouse.