Hades never thought he’d feel any kind of way about Dionysus’s allies until now, and he had to admit, he hoped that he’d align with him.
Though, he did not know what it meant to take sides yet. All he knew was that someone—potentially Hera and Theseus—was learning to kill the divine. The divide was complicated. Aligning against them seemed to mean siding with Zeus, which was not something Hades particularly wanted.
“I am on my own side,” Dionysus said.
As much as Hades respected that, this was not a situation where being neutral would work.
“You realize the death of the Graeae means more than the loss of Medusa,” Hades said. “It means that someone has found a way to kill us.”
“Then it sounds like I need to be on their side,” Dionysus said.
Hades’s lips flattened. “Is that your plan?” he asked, then tilted his head. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the first to kneel.”
Dionysus’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about submission, Hades. It’s about lying low until the opportune moment.”
“And what moment is that, Dionysus? When everyone stronger than you is dead?”
“You’re not very strong if you’re dead.”
They were quiet for a few moments before Hades said, “I’ve never really liked you.”
“Nor I you.”
“But I respected you because I thought you were a protector.” Hades thought about all the women he’d pulled out of harmful situations, how he had trained them to protect themselves. He had helped them take back their power, yet here he would let the Graeae’s deaths go unavenged. He would hide. He was a coward. “Turns out, you are…but only of your own interests.”
He noted how Dionysus swallowed at his comment, and Hades rose to his feet.
“I am not saying choose a side,” Hades said at last. “I’m telling you to choose allies. This is not a war that will see any of us unpunished.”
With that, he left the theater.
* * *
It was late when he returned to the Underworld and found his bed empty.
He had not expected to find Persephone there, but it reminded him of how they parted and made his chest feel like an open chasm. Despite this, he tried to sleep, but all he saw when he closed his eyes was her on the floor before him, sobbing and bleeding.
I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades, she’d said, and as much as he knew what that was like, he realized he didn’t know how to lose her, but that was exactly what was happening. The ironic part was that all he’d been doing this whole time was fighting to keep her—or at least the possibility of their future together.
He must have fallen asleep eventually, because he woke later with a pounding headache. His mouth felt dry and his tongue swollen. He stumbled out of bed and poured himself a drink, but before he could take a sip, a strange feeling straightened his spine, and an unnerving silence blanketed the room. He set his glass down with a click and headed for the balcony, summoning his clothes as he did.
In the distance, beyond the mountainous peaks of Tartarus, the gray sky had begun to whirl and rumble.
The Fates were angry.
What the fuck had happened?
He started to teleport as dread gathered heavily in his stomach, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to find a pale-faced Thanatos.
No. It can’t be.
He knew what the God of Death was going to say. He could already feel the betrayal in his bones, grinding away.
“She did it,” Thanatos said. “Persephone did it. She made a deal with Apollo to heal Lexa.”
There was something about this that dissolved his previous feeling of regret and turned it to rage. His body shook with it. How could she have been so reckless, and to involve Apollo? After he had been so clear about his hatred for the God of Music? After he had bargained to get her out of owing him anything? Had his sacrifice meant nothing to her?
Hades curled his fingers into fists and met Thanatos’s haunted eyes.
“Release the Furies,” he commanded.
Hades did not often like to call on the Furies. They were not discreet creatures, and their presence in the Underworld—as well as on Olympus—was always known.
He did not even flinch when their horrific cries breached the air, pricking his skin as he turned to see three winged creatures explode from the depths of Tartarus to retrieve Persephone and Apollo.
* * *
Hades felt like he was being torn to pieces from the inside out, his anger was so acute.
Was there no end to this turmoil?
He had killed friends and monsters, bargained and sacrificed. He had made deals to protect and promise a future that he was beginning to think only he wanted.
Hades teleported to Nevernight, where he waited for the Furies to bring his captives. He’d have done this in the Underworld, but he did not want to offer Apollo another invitation into his realm. It was not long before he sensed their approach, an energy so volatile, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
He watched as Persephone and Apollo landed at his feet. Persephone was deposited gracefully, landing in the position she had fallen when the Furies had captured and paralyzed her with their venomous snakes, while Apollo was dropped right on his face. Hades appreciated the satisfying crack that followed his landing and probably would have grinned had he not been so fucking angry…devastated…betrayed.
His eyes shifted to Persephone, who rose to her feet on shaking legs.
The first thing he noticed about her was how tired she looked. She was pale, her eyes were red, and the shadows beneath them looked deep and dark. She likely had not slept last night if she’d been with Apollo, but it still worried him, more so when she met his gaze. Her eyes had no luster, and he could feel her apprehension and fear. It built between them, as sharp and tangled as thorned vines.
“Fucking Furies,” Apollo groaned.
Hades’s attention shifted to the god as he got to his feet. The Furies must have pulled him from sleep, because he wore a floral robe and his usually pristine hair was a mess.
Hades would have liked to pummel him into the ground until he reached the depths of Tartarus but refrained from making a single move. Once he began, he wouldn’t stop. This kind of rage had no rationale. It coiled through him, tightening every part of his body until he wanted to burst.
“You know you could upgrade to something a little more modern to enforce natural order, Hades,” Apollo said, oblivious to Hades’s fury. “I’d rather be carried off by a well-muscled man than a trio of albino goddesses and a serpent.”