“So you are betraying me too?”
“No one has betrayed you,” Hecate said, approaching. It was as if the goddess had formed from the darkness behind her.
Hades flattened his lips and glared. “I recognize Persephone is far better than me, but you cannot ignore her blatant disregard for the rules of my realm.”
“You sound like a child,” Hecate chided.
“Hecate, I am in no mood—”
“Likely not. You are rarely in a mood for anything other than sex, which, from what I have seen, will not happen anytime soon.”
Hades curled his fingers into fists and turned on his heels, but Hecate had teleported and blocked his way once more.
“As much as Persephone must deal with the consequences of her actions, so must you, and one of those is hearing what I have to say to you.”
“And what can you have to say to me that I don’t already know?” Hades snarled. “That I fucked up? That I should have been more present?”
“Maybe you should have been more present, but you weren’t, so what are you going to do now?”
Hades stared and Hecate repeated herself.
“What are you going to do now, Hades?”
“I…don’t know,” he admitted. He hadn’t thought beyond what had happened today, hadn’t even processed it completely, though he had taken a few key things from their interaction, and one of those was that Persephone wasn’t even certain about the future of their relationship.
“I heard that,” Hecate snapped, and Hades’s eyes flashed.
Hades grit his teeth. “We had an agreement, Hecate, that you would not read my mind.”
“And I respect it when you aren’t being a complete and utter idiot,” she replied. “You are just as uncertain about your future as Persephone.”
“I have every reason to be,” he countered. Had he not just spent the past few weeks entangled in a battle with Hera to ensure that the goddess sided with him when it was time to ask Zeus for permission to marry Persephone?
“You are so centered on securing her hand in marriage, you aren’t even focused on laying the foundation for it. Just because the Fates have entangled your future doesn’t mean you have no work to do.”
Hades stood in a tense, angry silence. In part, he was not ready to hear any of this, but he also knew that Hecate was right.
“You have bent to Hera’s will out of fear, yet I ask you, does her blessing mean more than the love you have for Persephone?”
“Of course not,” Hades snapped. She was simplifying Hera’s intentions. It wasn’t just about approval of their future but assurance that she would not harm or curse Persephone as a means to get back at him.
“Perhaps the worst part of all this is that she doesn’t even know what you’ve been fighting for. You haven’t told her. You’ve told her nothing. You did not even tell her the consequences of bringing Lexa back.”
“She should trust me.”
“Fuck you, Hades.”
He stared, a little shocked by her vitriol.
“You want her to be your queen, to stand beside you in judgment of souls, yet you could not even tell her that broken souls never come back right. You could have shown her the consequences. She is not some mortal who came to beg at your feet for a bargain.”
A thickness gathered within Hades’s chest. It was almost suffocating and nearly impossible to swallow it down.
“People like Persephone, who have been told half-truths and lies their whole life, need more than words, Hades, and you—you have to realize this isn’t even about love or trust anymore. It’s about you. Your fears. Your insecurities. You cannot continue to live a life and not show her the world you have created, no matter how awful or hard or scary. She deserves to know what it means to love you fully. Do you not wish for that?”
“I wish for it,” he admitted. “But I do not believe she will love all parts of me.”
“That is unfair to her,” Hecate said. “You think her darkness cannot love yours? She was made for you.”
Hades lowered his eyes and felt the weight of his defeat.
“Now what are you going to do about this?”
“I…don’t know yet.”
“You do not have to know today,” she said. “But you will have to decide, because Persephone is about to learn what it means to bring Lexa back, and she will need you, more than anything.”
Hades frowned. He suspected that whatever lay before her with Lexa would be far worse than what was behind them now.
“Come, boys,” Hecate said. “We have work to do.”
Hecate left the hallway, and each of his Dobermans glared at him before turning one by one to follow the goddess.
* * *
Hera did not come to collect Hippolyta’s belt, which further confirmed Hades’s suspicion that she had not truly cared about the labor so much as she wished to use it to distract him. He was certain now that he understood the goddess’s motives, though he had yet to confirm her alliance with Theseus.
When he’d refused to participate in her revolt, Hera had sentenced him to labors that would benefit her. The death of Briareus was revenge but also ensured that Zeus would not be able to call on a great ally who had defeated her in the past. Fight night had likely been a test to evaluate the use of the hydra, the Stymphalian birds, and Heracles as weapons against the gods. Obviously, they’d found a use for the hydra’s venom, and while Hades did think that Hera could have used Hippolyta’s belt, he knew now that it was a decoy.
She’d unwittingly managed to manipulate Hades into benefiting her cause, and he resented it—but he would find a way to get back at the goddess. She would regret her entanglement in his life.
In the meantime, Ilias had prepared Zofie for her assignment. They’d agreed that she would keep her distance by using a particular power Hades had been surprised to learn she possessed—the power of shape-shifting. The power itself was not unusual; he’d just not expected the Amazon to morph into an average white cat. Still, it meant Zofie could keep a close and discreet eye on Persephone, which gave Hades peace of mind considering they were currently not speaking. As much as he wanted to, he did not know how to move forward yet. Apologies seemed too trivial here, but perhaps that was the only way to begin again.
“Are you even listening?” There was an edge to the voice that brought Hades out of his thoughts, and he met a pair of brown eyes. They were set in the face of a mortal man with dark, curly hair and thick glasses. He was Hades’s first bargain of the night, and potentially his last.