“Cry for me,” I urge her, my body slamming into her harder, faster. She gasps at the brutality I use her with, but I crave this. Her nails scrape down my back, clawing my flesh. I know she’s drawing blood, and I don’t care, because I’ll soon feast on hers.
“Please, please,” she pleads, the words falling from her mouth in short gasps of air as I steal her breath. I find purchase on her neck, my teeth severing the smooth skin. The crimson liquid of her drips into my mouth, over my tongue, sending pleasure roaring through my veins.
I suck harder. I’ll bruise her. I’ll mark her as mine. When her mother comes for her, she’ll see that I’ve defiled her daughter. I’ve claimed her already, and there’ll be nothing she can do about it.
“Oh, god!” Persephone cries out beneath me as her body tightens around my length, soft, quickened flutters of her orgasm pull me in deeper. I won’t last much longer. I can’t. Not in a body this perfect.
“My seed will bathe you, my queen,” I growl in her ear. Her blood dripping from my lips, I feel it shooting through me as I empty myself inside her womb. I trust soon she’ll bear my children. We’ll form an army. I’ll keep her swollen and warm, near me, so she can’t offer herself to anyone else.
“I knew I was meant for something in this life,” she speaks, her voice almost too quiet for me to hear her. “I’ve dreamed of you.” Her words ring true. The years I’ve spent down here have offered me glimpses of a nymph, a beautiful woman who would become my queen. I just didn’t know when she’d arrive. But now, in this moment, I’m convinced.
I’m waiting at the altar.
We will be married tonight.
A gentle stirring of my army from the pews alerts me there’s a flutter of excitement. My dark robes meld into the dimly lit room. Music plays in the background, some classical melody I don’t immediately recognize, but that’s not where my mind is.
I’m thinking about the moment I tasted her virtue. The instant I sank myself into her. The moment I marked her as mine. All the images race through my mind as I recall with clarity how she cried out, how her nails raked down my back, and how the tightness of her enveloped me.
The music changes, and when I glance up, I notice the girl at the door. She’s dressed in an off-white gown. Long, flowing, yet tight, hugging her curves ever so beautifully. Her long hair hangs down her back in soft waves, with curls framing her heart-shaped face.
I watch in awe as she closes the distance. An aisle set up for this purpose, for me to have my fill of her in this moment. As soon as she’s beside me, we start the ceremony. As on earth, so it is in Hell. The only difference is that as soon as we kneel for our communion, we’re offered a chalice of blood instead of wine.
She lifts it to her mouth, taking a tentative sip. The crimson on her lips causes me to want to take her once more. To claim her as mine. But I need to refrain for a moment. We nod in understanding, we speak our promises and vows, and then, we’re announced as King and Queen.
The crown is set on her head; it fits perfectly as she rises. She’s no longer the daughter of a king and queen. She’s in her own right, the ruler of the Underworld. She may have half my kingdom, but she holds my whole heart.
Chapter 21
Persephone
Never did I think I’d be a bride to the man who rules the Underworld. A place of darkness, where death is a perfume and destruction, is a garden in which the demons bask. But as I make my way down the halls, I feel it thrumming through me.
Am I as evil as he?
No, I can’t be. Mother and father would never have raised me like they did if there was evil lurking within my soul. Turning the corner, I find him in the room that reeks of wealth. Surely, he doesn’t need money, but there’s something about this room that reminds me of my parlor back home. It's dripping with gold, filled with ornaments and paintings, furnished as if a king lives here.
“A king does live here, beauty,” he says, not looking my way. Can he read my mind? “There are many things that show your true feelings toward me, one being that darkness that follows you around like a fragrance. It lingers when you walk around my home.”
“So, you can read my mind,” I say to him, entering the room. He doesn’t move, his body languid in the large onyx-colored chair. The leather is soft to my touch when I place my hand on the back.
“I can feel your words.” He speaks so low, so controlled, it cocoons me. As if he’s pulling me into his arms and embracing me. “Your father has the same gifts as I,” he informs me. “For years, I hid my emotions, my plans, but he knew, he always knew, until the day I stole you.”
“And you admit that you stole me?”
He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that emanates around us. It’s lighter than his voice, giving a stark contrast between the room bathed in muted tones and dark colors to the sky I can no longer see.
“Let me take you to your garden, my queen,” he tells me. Rising from his throne, he turns to face me once more. “You’re more beautiful today than you were yesterday and the days before.”
“And what will you do when I age?”
“You’ll not age while you’re here,” he tells me with a smirk that’s both sinful and also filled with promise. My heart beats wildly at his words. “You’ll stay youthful forever unless you attempt to leave. Once you reach the surface, your natural human life will continue as if you’d never come here.”
“What if I want to visit my family?”
He nods. “You may do so, but your time will be limited.” I consider this, wondering if I can really live a life in darkness, with a short amount of moments to see my mother and father.
I don’t know if they’ll ever forgive me for wanting to be here, to live in the darkness with him, but something about it feels right. I glance away from my new husband for a moment, looking at our surroundings. Everything is rich in deep crimsons, dark blues, and purples. The oranges remind me of a setting sun.
“If you miss your flowers, I’ll take you to the garden,” he tells me then. “Come, my queen.” He offers his hand, which I gratefully accept. The electricity that sizzles through me at the contact warms me from the inside out. I want more than what I had above ground, more than just existing. I want to live.
Hades guides me through hallways of darkened windows and locked doors. Each one we pass holds secrets; this, I know. I’ve heard terrible stories about this Underworld. Mother painted such sordid pictures for me when she told me about it.
Once we reach outside, Hades pulls me beside him, stopping just outside the enormous, ornate metal doors that lead back into the castle. Or palace. I’m not even sure what to call it. He waves his hand, gesturing toward the black cobblestones that lead through blackened trees, and I wonder briefly what he’s doing. It doesn’t take long for the darkness to turn to color.
Leaves slowly change from charcoal to bright green. The stems of all the flowers match, and when the bulbs pop from their raven-hued petals to pinks, reds, orange, and an array of other colors, it steals my breath.
“This will be yours,” he promises.