CHAPTER XXX
HADES
Hades left the island of Lampri with Persephone in his arms and took her to his armory, which was located far below his palace. It was full of ancient and modern weapons, shields, and armor. It was also where he kept the Helm of Darkness, one of three great weapons made by the cyclops Brontes and his two brothers, Steropes and Arges. Unlike Zeus’s lightning bolt and Poseidon’s trident, which could wound, Hades’s helm’s magic was far more subtle but no less powerful.
“Is this…”
“An arsenal,” Hades said.
He watched Persephone as she scanned the room, eyes fixating on the very center where his armor was on display. She approached it, letting her fingers drift across the helm, which sat at the base.
“How long has it been since you wore this?”
“A while.”
Since the Titanomachy and the Gigantomachy—the battles against the Titans and the Giants.
“I do not need it unless I am fighting gods,” he explained, knowing she had likely thought of the most recent battle that involved the Olympians: the Great War.
“Or against a weapon that can kill you,” Persephone said pointedly.
He reached around her and picked up his helmet.
“This is the Helm of Darkness. It grants its wearer the ability to become invisible,” he said, and though it granted other abilities, only one power was relevant at the moment. “It was made for me by the cyclopes during the Titanomachy.”
“Why do you need this helm? One of your powers is invisibility.”
“Invisibility is a power I gained over time as I became stronger.” As he had gained more and more worshippers. Then he smirked. “Outside of that, I prefer to protect my head during battle.”
She was not amused as she took the helm into her hands, studying it closely. He knew she was focused on the marks that scored its surface—one for every blow he’d taken.
“I want you to wear this while at Council.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Why?”
“Council is for Olympians, and I am not eager to introduce you to either of my brothers, especially under these circumstances. You will not like everything that is said.”
And the helm would ensure she remained undetected while she listened.
“Are you worried my mouth will sabotage our engagement?”
He smiled at her arched comment.
“Oh, darling, I have faith your mouth will only improve it.”
They stared at each other, and then her gaze dropped to his cock. She raised a brow.
“Are you going to Council naked, my lord? If so, I insist on watching.”
“If you keep staring at me like that, we will not go to Council at all,” he said, though he knew this visit was necessary, as much as he hated it.
He summoned his glamour and dressed them both.
“Ready?” he asked.
She did not speak, but she took his hand, and they left the Underworld for Olympus, appearing in the shadows, which vibrated with raised voices.
“This storm must end, Zeus!” Hestia said. “My cult begs for relief.”
“I am not eager to see the storm go,” said Zeus. “The mortals have grown too bold and need to be taught a lesson. Perhaps freezing to death will remind them who rules their world.”
Persephone’s head snapped toward Hades, her eyes narrowed in frustration. He recognized the problematic nature of Zeus’s words. They were the root of every mortal’s frustration with the gods.
He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet as he took the helm from her and secured it over her head. It was too large and did not fit properly, but the magic would work, and that was all that mattered. He kissed her fingers and then left her in the shadows.
He teleported.
“You will be reminding them of nothing save their hatred for you—for all of us,” Hades said as he appeared in the middle of the arc of Olympian thrones and strolled toward his own beside Zeus.
“Hades.” Zeus’s voice rumbled like thunder.
It did not seem like his mood had improved since their visit, and considering this meeting had been called to discuss Hades’s relationship with Persephone, that was not a good sign.
“From what I understand, Hades,” said Ares, who lounged on his own throne, “the storm is your fault. Couldn’t keep your dick out of Demeter’s daughter.”
“Shut up, Ares,” Hermes snapped.
“Why should he?” Artemis asked. “He speaks the truth.”
“You could have fucked a million other women, but you chose to stay with one,” said Ares, a slant of amusement in his voice. “And the daughter of a goddess who hates you more than she loves humanity.”
“That pussy must be gold,” Poseidon said.
Spikes shot out of the tips of Hades’s fingers, and he dug them into the arms of his throne. He spoke, his voice low and threatening. “I will personally cut the thread of any god who dares to speak another word about Persephone.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Hera said, as if she thought his threat were empty. “The consequences of killing a god outside of the Fates’ will are dire. You could lose your dear goddess.”
Hades tapped the ends of his clawed fingers against his iron throne, leveling his gaze at the Goddess of Marriage. He did not speak, but his challenge was clear—Try it and I will end this world.
The silence that followed was tense and only eased when Athena spoke. “The fact remains that the snowstorm is causing great harm.”
“Then we must discuss solutions to ending Demeter’s rage,” said Hades.
“Nothing will convince her to end her assault except the separation of you from her daughter,” said Hera.
“That is out of the question.”
“Does the girl even wish to be with you? Is it not true you trapped her in a contract to force her to spend time with you?”
He wanted to incinerate the goddess with his gaze. His sister-in-law had grown bold. Perhaps she needed to be reminded that he knew of her alliance with Theseus, but before he could speak, Hermes interrupted.
“She is a woman and she loves Hades. I have seen it.”
“So we should sacrifice the lives of thousands for the true love of two gods?” Artemis’s voice dripped with disdain. “Ridiculous.”
The goddess shared a lot with her twin, Apollo, including the tragic loss of a great love. For Artemis, it was the princess Iphigenia, who had been sacrificed in her name during the Trojan War.
“I did not come here so that Council could discuss my love life,” Hades said.
“No, but unfortunately for you, your love life is wreaking havoc upon the world.”
“So is your dick,” Hades countered, though that was likely a sore subject given that he had no balls. “And no one’s ever called Council about that.”
“Speaking of dicks and the problems they cause,” Hermes jumped in. “Is no one going to speak about the trouble your offspring are causing? Tyche is dead. Someone is attacking us…succeeding in killing us…and you want to bicker about Hades’s love life?”
“We’ll have nothing to worry about if Demeter’s storm continues,” Artemis snapped. “Mortals will be frozen to the ground. It will be Pompeii all over again.”
“You think Demeter’s wrath is the worst that could happen?” Hades asked, his voice shaking the very air in the room. “You do not know mine.”
He recognized that declaring war on his fellow Olympians was not the smartest move given that they needed to be united against Triad, but if they insisted on tearing him away from Persephone, he would handle the consequences as they came.
Then he felt Persephone’s magic like a hint of sun streaming from the spring sky.
Fuck, he thought as she stepped into view from the shadows surrounding their thrones. She had dropped her glamour and stood in her true form, radiating beauty like wildflowers in a field. She said his name and held his gaze, offering a small apologetic smile.
It was likely she could feel his magic. It surrounded hers, waiting in the wings to whisk her away if anything went wrong.
“Well, well, well,” Zeus said, leaning forward on his throne. Hades bit down on the inside of his cheek, a hot wave of anger curling in his stomach. “Demeter’s daughter.”
“I am,” she said, casting her gaze to the right and then to the left.
“You have caused a lot of problems,” Zeus said.
Her eyes flashed, and Hades found her obvious frustration amusing.
“I think you mean my mother has caused a lot of problems,” she said. “And yet you seem intent upon punishing Hades.”
Zeus sat back and shrugged. “I merely seek to solve a problem in the simplest way possible.”
“That might be true if Demeter were only responsible for a storm, but I have reason to believe she is working with the demigods.”
“What reasons?”
“I was there the night Tyche died. My mother was there. I felt her magic.”
“Perhaps she was there to retrieve you,” Hera said, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss her accusation. Hades imagined that was what she’d hoped for too, given that she had every reason to want Triad to succeed. “As is her right by Divine law. She is your mother.”
“Since we are basing our decisions on archaic laws, then I must disagree,” Persephone said.
Hades’s lips curled.
“On what grounds?” Hera countered.
“Hades and I fuck,” Persephone said flatly. “By Divine law, we are married.”
Hermes’s choked on a laugh. Hades eyed him before returning his attention to Persephone, whose eyes were trained on Zeus. He didn’t like it, knowing his brother enjoyed her attention and the fact that she had to appeal to him.
“It was my mother’s magic that kept Tyche restrained,” she said again.
“Is this true, Hermes?” Zeus asked.
“Persephone would never lie,” the god replied.
“Triad is a true enemy,” Persephone said quickly. “You have reason to fear them.”
Hades was not surprised when a few Olympians laughed.
“Did you not just hear what I said?” Persephone asked, exasperated.
“Harmonia and Tyche are goddesses, yes, but they are not Olympians,” said Poseidon.
“I’m sure the Titans thought the same of you. Besides, Demeter is an Olympian.”
“She would not be the first who attempted—and failed—to overthrow me,” said Zeus, who glanced toward Hera.
“This is different,” Persephone said. “You have a world ready to shift their alliance to a group of people they believe are more mortal than god, and my mother’s storm will force the decision.”
“So we return to the real issue,” Hera said. “You.”
“If you return me to my mother, I will become a real issue,” Persephone said. “I will be the reason for your misery, for your despair, for your ruination. I promise you will taste my venom.”
Hades sat rigid and ready. His magic caressed Persephone’s, a darkness ready to consume her light.
After a moment, Zeus spoke.
“You speak on what we will not do, but what would you have us do? When the world suffers beneath a storm of your mother’s creation?”
“Were you not ready to watch the world suffer minutes ago?” Persephone asked, and Hades cringed, though he loved her more for calling his brother out. The challenge was maintaining his favor, though he hated that they even needed it.
“Are you suggesting we allow it to continue?” Hestia asked.
“I’m suggesting you punish the source of the storm,” Persephone said.
“You forget. No one has been able to locate Demeter.”
“Is there no god here who is all-seeing?”
There was laughter.
“You speak of Helios,” said Artemis. “He will not help us. He will not help you, because you love Hades and Hades stole his cattle.”
He had yet to regret that choice even if it would help them now.
Persephone’s gaze did not waver from Zeus.
“Are you not King of Gods? Is Helios not here by your grace?”
“Helios is the God of the Sun,” Hera said. “His role is important—more important than a minor goddess’s obsessive love.”
“If he were so great, could he not melt the snowstorm that ravages the earth?”
“Enough!” Zeus snapped. Hades’s magic inched closer. “You have given us much to consider, goddess. We will search for Demeter—all of us. If she is in league with Triad, let her admit it and face punishment. Until that point, however, I will defer judgment on your wedding to Hades a little while longer.”
Hades’s eyes shifted to Hera, who glared back at him. In reality, Hades had no hope that this meant Zeus would allow their marriage. He had merely offered this concession to impress Persephone.
“Thank you, Lord Zeus,” she said.
Hades hated those words on her tongue.
Then Zeus stood and cast his gaze around the room.
“On this night, we will say goodbye to Tyche.”
Then he vanished.
Hera followed, but not before casting her murderous gaze on Persephone.
“See you later, Sephy!” Hermes said.
When they were alone, Hades left his throne and approached Persephone, who had already begun to explain herself.
“I’m sorry. I know you asked that I stay hidden, but I couldn’t. Not when they wished—”
He kissed her hard before pulling away.
“You were wonderful,” he said. “Truly.”
“I thought they would take me from you,” she said, quietly.
“Never,” he whispered, speaking it against her skin like an affirmation, and perhaps if he said it enough, it would come true.
Hades’s arms tightened around Persephone as soon as Hephaestus lit the pyre upon which Tyche lay. Her energy was dark, almost chaotic. He was not certain what she was thinking, but if he had to guess, she blamed herself for Tyche’s end. It was not fair, given she had no control over her mother’s actions, but that was the nature of a narcissist.
Demeter had taught Persephone that she was at fault for her mother’s poor decisions.
“Tyche’s death was not your fault,” he said. He felt the need to say it aloud.
Persephone did not speak and he knew it was because she did not believe him. In the quiet, the fire popped and sizzled, and the smell of lavender and burning flesh filled the air.
“Where do gods go when they die?” Persephone asked.
“They come to me, powerless,” he said. “And I give them a role in the Underworld.”
“What kind of role?”
“It depends on what challenged them in their life as a god. Tyche, though, she always wanted to be a mother. So I will gift her with the Children’s Garden.”
“Will we be able to speak with her? About the way she died?”
“Not immediately,” he answered. “But within the week.”
Though Hades worried by then, it might be too late.
CHAPTER XXXI
DIONYSUS
Dionysus and Ariadne found a narrow path down the side of the cliff, but their progress was slow because Ariadne was afraid of heights, though she still refused to admit it.
“I’ll carry you,” Dionysus said.
“No. What if you fall?”
“I’m not going to fall. I’m a fucking god,” he said, annoyed.
“As if that’s somehow impressive,” she snapped.
“I fucking healed you!”
“And yet we’re still stranded on an island in the middle of the ocean because you can’t compete with Poseidon’s power.”
He ground his teeth, wishing her words didn’t sting. He knew his abilities did not compare to the God of the Sea, and he had thought often over the last two days that none of this would have happened had he had more power—had he been better.
Her words seemed to bother her just as much as they had him, because her shoulders fell and she let her hands drop from the wall, shuffling toward him. He watched her approach, feeling heat creep into his body the closer she came.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He wanted to say something sarcastic, to draw her anger to the surface again, because that was more comfortable, but instead, he touched her cheek, brushing his fingers across her skin. She didn’t pull away.
“I think you’re hungry,” he said.
She nodded and then let her head fall against his chest. She didn’t fight him as he swept her into his arms. He carried her until he found an opening in the rocky wall—a shallow cave where they could rest for the night.
He left to gather wood for a fire. When he returned, they sat beside one another on a large log he’d dragged from the back of the cave and ate figs. Dionysus did not hate the fruit, but they reminded him of sex, and given that he sat in close proximity to the woman he’d desperately desired over the last month, eating them was torture. Their pulp was sweet like honey, their juice a fine syrup.
He glanced at Ariadne, who was sucking her fingers clean, and thought about how she probably tasted just like this, but then she spoke, and his thoughts came crashing down under the weight of his past.
“How long did you live with madness?” she asked.
Dionysus looked down at his half-eaten fig.
“A long time,” he said, which was not a very good answer, but in truth, he did not know. “Long enough to wander the world…long enough to do horrible things.”
Hera had known what she was doing when she had inflicted such a punishment. He’d been completely aware of the horror he caused but unable to stop it. He had wandered from country to country, body high and mind euphoric, dancing and drinking, dragging along followers who were just as crazed. Anyone who stood in his way or questioned his divinity faced his bitter wrath. He’d sentenced men to be torn to pieces by their daughters, punished them by killing their sons. He had driven people mad to the point of death.
“It was awful,” she said.
Her words twisted in his gut, and suddenly, he had no appetite. He sat the fruit aside.
“I did not want to do it,” he said, but he had not known what else to do. It seemed like the better alternative given the threat Poseidon posed.
“I don’t blame you,” she said, though he wasn’t sure he believed that or if it would remain true. “I’m sorry you had to live like that for so long.”
He said nothing, preferring not to indulge in this line of conversation. It took his mind to places he preferred to keep buried.
They were quiet, and the only sound was the fire crackling as it burned before them, casting shadows on the wall.
“Why did you become a detective?” he asked.
“I wanted to help people,” she said.
“And now?” he glanced at her, but she was staring into the fire.
“I guess I just found out how hard it is.”
It was strange to hear her say that—to acknowledge that it was hard to help people who did not want it, especially given that she felt responsible for her sister and was determined to rescue her from Theseus.
“It isn’t fair,” Dionysus said at length.
“What isn’t fair?”
“That Theseus had you,” he said, and while he spoke honestly, he couldn’t look at her. “He didn’t deserve you. He still doesn’t, and yet he takes up so much space in your head.”
He would give anything to replace him—to fill her mind every minute of every day.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered and hesitated. “You should rest. I will watch over you while you sleep.”
“I do not wish to sleep,” she said, and there was a heat to her voice that drew his attention. They stared at each other, and the air between them felt thick and heavy. It always did, but this was somehow different, sharper. He could taste her desire.
He swallowed hard.
“Then what do you wish to do?”
He knew what he wanted—had wanted since the moment he met her—but that yearning did not prepare him for what she did next.
She leaned in and kissed him once, her lips barely brushing his. It was a chaste kiss, and he knew she was capable of more—he had experienced it before. When she went to pull back, he followed, anchoring his hand behind her head as his mouth collided with hers. She did not pull away, and he kissed her hard, channeling every ounce of frustration she’d built within him since the beginning.
This, he thought, is how badly I want you.
When he broke away from her, it was because he knew he would take this too far, but it was somehow harder to face her now, her eyes dark and her lips gleaming.
“I want you,” she said.
Dionysus started to speak but no words came out. He tried again. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell earlier?”
“I’m of sound mind, Dionysus,” she said, her voice taking on a frustrated edge. “I’m asking you to have sex with me. Are you saying you don’t want me?”
“No,” he said quickly. “That is not what I am saying at all. Fuck, Ari. I just want you to be sure.”
She held his gaze. “I asked for it. I want it.”
He swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure why he was having such a hard time with this. It was everything he had dreamed about since he’d met her.
“Why me?”
She seemed to think the answer was obvious because she frowned and shook her head a little.
“Because you’ll take care of me. Because…you have taken care of me.”
Dionysus did not know what to say. There was a part of him that could not believe this was happening, no matter how much he’d desired it, no matter how many times he’d fantasized about it, no matter how often she’d aroused him just by being…her.
She rose to her feet and pulled her shirt over her head, baring her beautiful, full breasts. Her pants followed, and for a few glorious moments, she stood completely naked before him, the firelight and shadow dancing over her skin.
His cock thickened and throbbed.
She placed her hands on his shoulders as she lowered into his lap.
“Touch me,” she whispered, guiding his hands to her breasts.