“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” he admitted.
“Me either,” she said but did not elaborate. Instead, she added, “And I need you to give her a place to stay and her job back. Please.”
Of course he would agree. Still, he wanted to know why she’d offered to help his former lover.
“Why do you wish to mentor her?”
It took her a moment to respond, and she averted her eyes as she searched for her answer, her chin resting on her hands.
Finally, she said, “Because I think I know how she feels.”
His mood darkened a little. “Explain.”
She shrugged and the movement caused a lock of her hair to fall over her shoulder. “She’s been a tree for thousands of years. Suddenly, she’s normal again and the whole world has changed. It’s…scary…and I know how that feels.”
He could see how she might believe they had something in common. Persephone’s mother had kept her hidden away from the world until she was eighteen, only letting her explore beyond the borders of her glass greenhouse on a short leash. She was just now learning what she wanted to believe and who she wanted to be as a woman and a goddess.
Still, while they might have this in common, Hades could not imagine two more different people than Persephone and Leuce.
“You want to mentor my former lover?”
She groaned. “Don’t make me regret this, Hades.”
“I don’t want you to, but are you sure?”
Hades liked the way her lips pouted as she frowned. Still, she didn’t look at him as she spoke. “It’s weird, I admit, but…she’s a victim. I want to help her.”
He might have winced at her words, but he knew she was right, and even when Leuce had returned, he had failed to help her the way she deserved.
Yet Persephone was willing.
Hades drew her gaze back to his. “You amaze me.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I am not amazing. I wanted to punish her at first.”
“But you didn’t,” he said, letting his hand fall to her jaw. “There are no other gods like you.”
“I haven’t lived long enough to be jaded like the rest of you,” she said and laughed. “Perhaps I’ll end up like the others before long.”
“Or perhaps you will change the rest of us,” Hades replied.
They were still for a few seconds, then Persephone sat up, her hands planted on his chest, which made her breasts bounce. She rocked back so that her soft, wet center slid over his full, hard cock. Hades gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to groan, to grip her hips and help her move.
“Eager for more, my lady?” he asked.
When she smiled, he smiled too.
“Actually, I’m afraid I must make a few demands,” she said, lifting herself and guiding him into her body with a pleasurable sigh.
Hades could no longer stand not touching her. His hands dug into her thighs. He’d give her anything if she just kept moving.
“Yes?” he hissed.
“I don’t want to be placed in a suite on the other side of the palace, ever.”
Never, Hades thought as she slammed down on him.
“Not to get ready for balls. Not when you are angry with me. Not ever.”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, gathering thoughts that were so scattered, he could barely string a sentence together.
“I thought you would want privacy,” he managed to grit out.
She paused, and Hades opened his eyes to find her bent over, lips hovering just over his. He took the opportunity to lift his knees, settling into her just a little more.
“Fuck privacy. I needed you, needed to know you still wanted me despite…everything.”
He drew her to him, and as their lips met, he rolled, pinning her beneath him. He resettled himself inside her but did not move, laughing when Persephone wiggled in an attempt to make him.
She glared, but her expression softened as he spoke.
“I will always want you, and I would have welcomed you to my bed any night.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispered.
He touched her lips, parting them beneath his touch.
“Now you do.”
Their mouths collided and Hades’s hips surged forward. Persephone’s moans encouraged him, drove him deep, and she clung to him like he clung to her until they drove each other to the edge and over.
* * *
Hades woke sometime in the evening. A day had passed since Apollo had come to collect retribution for his slight, a day since he and Persephone had made up on the floor of her silvery meadow, and the thought that pressed heavily on his mind as she slept soundlessly beside him was losing her.
He had never had much to lose, but she was everything, and since they had found each other, it felt like every god had tried—or would try—their hand at tearing them apart, and Hades would be damned if anyone succeeded.
He rose and dressed, taking a few straight shots of whiskey. While the drink didn’t do much to intoxicate him, it did take the edge off his nerves.
Before he left the Underworld, he watched Persephone sleep, eyes following the outline of her body beneath the sheets, the way her chest rose and fell with her breaths. He placed his hand on her head and bent to kiss her forehead, then vanished, appearing on the island of Euboea.
It was an island off the coast of Attica. Once, long ago, it had been attached to the mainland, but earthquakes had separated the landmass and now it stood apart in the Mediterranean Sea. The island itself was not Hades’s ultimate destination. It was one of three volcanic islands off its coast. They were each relatively small, made of layers of volcanic rock, visible from all sides of the island. Despite its rocky foundation, a sheet of green grass made the island look emerald next to the sapphire ocean, and in the fading twilight, it was beautiful.
The islands were connected by a wood rope bridge, both to the mainland and to each other. Hades started toward the one at the center, Lea, named after Briareus’s wife, Cymopolea, Poseidon’s daughter and Hades’s niece.
The thought made each step heavier, yet he kept going, and when he made it to the island, he followed a path of round stones to a small cottage, nestled between two hills. The windows were full of warm and inviting light, and a plume of white smoke rose from a chimney atop its thatched roof.
Hades hesitated a step, his insides twisting mercilessly. It had been a long time since he had reaped a soul, an innocent one at least. Doing so never got easier, and this one was somehow made worse by the fact that Briareus was merely a victim of a war between gods.