The first line followed:
Persephone Rosi, owner of the largest media company in New Greece, celebrated the grand opening of Halcyon. The rehabilitation center will provide a variety of free care to mortals.
There were a lot of things about the article that stunned her. For one, it did not mention her relationship to Hades. Instead, it focused on her career and accomplishments. When she and Hades had first made their relationship public, she’d been dismayed about how the media identified her, which was usually as Hades’s lover despite having a name and a whole identity outside that.
Except part of what surprised her was her title. How had she gone from The Advocate, a small online blog, to this? But as she started her search for answers, she came to understand—she had purchased Epik Communications. Amid articles about the merger were also articles about Kal’s fall from grace, which included accusations of sexual misconduct and fraud. A picture of the man was included, his angry expression deepening the scars on his face—scars Hades had left.
Consumed in her research, she barely heard the knock at her door.
“Come in,” she said, distracted.
When the door opened, she glanced to her left quickly and then back to her computer.
“Can I…?” she started but looked again, meeting a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.
“Ready for lunch?” Lexa asked.
Persephone could only describe how she felt as something akin to shock. It erupted all over her body, as if all her nerve endings were on fire.
Her mouth slowly fell open.
“Lexa,” Persephone whispered. She rose from her chair and approached her, drawing her into a tight hug.
She felt solid and real, but when she pulled away, Lexa looked puzzled. “Is everything okay?”
Persephone frowned. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had thought she’d never see her again. Now she could not remember why.
“Yeah,” Persephone said. “I just thought you were gone.”
“You saw me this morning,” Lexa said.
“Did I?” Persephone asked. “I’m sorry, Lex. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Lexa laughed. “It’s okay. You’ve had a lot on your plate, and I doubt you slept much.”
She raised a knowing brow, and while Persephone knew what she was insinuating, she also felt like she was being left out of some sort of inside joke.
She couldn’t remember last night or the previous days, but she didn’t care, because Lexa was here.
“So, lunch?” Lexa said after an awkward pause.
“Right. Yes,” Persephone said and turned toward her desk. She was going to grab her bag when she felt Hermes’s familiar magic.
“Let’s eat!” he exclaimed as he appeared, blocking the doorway. “I am famished!”
“What are you wearing?” Lexa asked.
Hermes looked down at himself. “It’s holographic leather.”
“That sounds so hot,” Persephone said.
Hermes grinned. “Thank you.”
Persephone gave him a dull look. “That’s not what I meant.”
Lexa shook her head. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? Why not?” he asked, then he narrowed his eyes. “I’m fashion, Lexa!”
Persephone looked at Lexa, and they rolled their eyes together, then laughed.
Hermes glared, unamused. His shirt squeaked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You sound like a rubber ducky,” said Lexa, still laughing.
Hermes frowned. “What’s a rubber ducky?” He paused for a moment, and then his face brightened. “Is it kinky?”
“Yes,” Lexa said.
Persephone raised a brow, and Lexa turned to look at her.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Nothing,” Persephone said as she bent to retrieve her purse.
“You better not be lying to me,” said Hermes, suspicious.
“I would never!” Lexa said.
“Are we going to lunch?” Amphion asked, popping into the office.
Hermes looked down at him and planted his hand against the doorframe by his head. “I have something you can eat for lunch.”
Lexa made a choking sound. Persephone groaned.
“Hermes, you can’t say those things to my employees.”
“He likes it!” Hermes said, defensive, and looked at him. “Don’t you?”
Amphion’s face was bright red.
“You don’t have to answer, Amphion,” said Persephone.
“Yes, you do,” said Hermes.
“Hermes!” Persephone snapped.
“All right, fine,” Hermes grumbled.
Persephone squeezed between the god and Amphion, leaving her office. As she did, she heard Amphion speak.
“Lunch is covered, but if you are offering dinner, I’m free.”
“Oh my gods,” Lexa whined as they piled into the elevator.
“You’re just jealous because Thanatos isn’t putting out,” said Hermes.
“Shut up,” Lexa hissed, elbowing Hermes in the ribs.
“Ouch!”
Persephone laughed as she watched them from her place in the corner.
This is how things should have been, she thought and then frowned. Those words felt strange, and she could not figure out why they’d come to her in this moment when everything felt real and right.
This is how things are, she whispered as the doors opened on the first floor.
She was the last to step off the lift, but as she turned to follow the others out the door, her heart fell into her stomach.
“Zofie.”
The Amazon stood near the front desk dressed in black. Her long braid swung as she turned her head toward Persephone and then her whole body.
“Lady Persephone,” she said, bowing her head. “Ready to eat?”
Persephone took a quivering breath as a memory surfaced in her mind—one of Zofie lying on a pyre, skin white like marble, dead.
“You’re…alive,” she said.
“Seph,” Lexa said, almost breathless. “Why would you say that?”
Persephone opened her mouth and then frowned. She shook her head. “I don’t know. I…”
“Perhaps you’ve been having a bad dream,” Zofie suggested, and her smile was so sweet, Persephone had to agree.
“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe so.”
They left Alexandria Tower, choosing a restaurant a few blocks over called House of Greek. Persephone noticed how her friends surrounded her as they walked—Hermes was in front, Lexa and Amphion on either side, and Zofie followed behind.
It was a formation they maintained when they arrived and made their way to their table, though it did little to obscure her from curious onlookers, even after they were seated.
Lexa twisted in her chair. “Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare!”
“Lex!” Persephone whispered.
“Well,” Lexa said, turning to face Persephone. “People are…”
“Rude?” Zofie supplied.
“Yes!” Lexa said, picking up a fork and holding it in her fist.
“Whoa there,” said Hermes. “It’s not that serious.”
She glared at him.
“They’re just curious,” Persephone said and then added with a bit of scorn, “They want to see Hades’s wife.”
“Oh, they’re not interested in Hades,” said Amphion. “Their interest is in you.”
“Whatever,” Persephone said with a dismissive laugh.
They were always interested in Hades because they wanted what he offered.
“It’s true,” said Amphion. “What you did, exposing Kal Stavros…it was a big deal.”
Persephone didn’t know what to say, but Amphion’s words made her chest feel tight. She wasn’t sure why it was hard to imagine, but it just seemed that the world did not value women standing up to men.
“What are everyone’s plans this weekend?” Persephone asked, wishing to change the subject.
“I hope we’re all still getting hammered at Hades’s surprise birthday party,” said Hermes, and suddenly Persephone remembered. She’d wanted to do something to celebrate Hades given the terror of his birth. Since there had been no system to organize days at the time he was born, she decided to choose his birth date for him, November first.
“You don’t think he knows, do you?” asked Lexa.
“If he did, he would never tell me,” said Persephone.
He would let her have her fun, even if he dreaded its coming.
She wondered how he would react when he walked into Nevernight to find their friends had gathered to celebrate him or what he would do later when they made their descent to the Underworld where the souls waited to do the very same.
She could not imagine that he would look surprised, but she knew he would be grateful even if being the center of attention made him uncomfortable.
“Hades should challenge someone to a duel,” said Zofie. “It is how we would celebrate birthdays in Terme.”
Lexa looked at Persephone and then at Zofie. “I don’t think…”
“It was a joke. Did you get it?” Zofie asked, and she smiled, hopeful.
“Ohh,” everyone said and exchanged a look, dissolving into an awkward laughter that soon turned genuine, and by the time they left, Persephone’s heart had never been so full.
When the day was done, Persephone returned to the Underworld. There was an element of excitement that buzzed beneath her skin. She was happy to be home and excited to see Hades, though he would not return until late in the evening, so she changed and went to Asphodel to have dinner with the souls. When she appeared at the center of their village, she faced Tartarus.
It was the first time she’d felt dread all day, and it was so acute, it stopped her in her tracks. As she faced the far-off horizon, she found that it was…warped. It was the only way to describe it—the color of the sky and the mountains seemed twisted and out of shape, like the edges of a dream.
“Persephone!”
She turned to see Yuri, who waved. She smiled at the soul but looked back toward the horizon, only this time, the mountains had regained their jagged shape, and the horizon cut along its edge like sharp steel.
Strange, she thought.
“What are you staring at?” Yuri asked, coming to stand beside Persephone.
“I thought…I saw something, but I must have been mistaken,” she said, though her stomach twisted uneasily.
“The souls are waiting for you,” Yuri said and took her hand, pulling her to the field beyond their village where blankets were spread across the lawn. A set of tables had been placed end to end and were laden with food and drink from different times and cultures.
They ate as if they were celebrating, which was the usual way of the souls in Asphodel. Persephone sat with them and talked and laughed, and when they brought out their instruments and began to strum, they danced.
She only stopped when she went to spin and came face-to-face with Hades—well, his chest, really. She tilted her head back to meet his dark gaze.
“Hi,” she whispered breathlessly, overwhelmed as a sense of comfort washed over her.
“Hi,” he said, grinning. He touched her chin with the tip of his finger and kissed her. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes,” she said when he pulled away. “And you?”
He hummed, a sound she could feel vibrating his chest before he answered. “It’s better now.”
It was a Hades answer, meaning it was not an answer at all. Still, she smiled.
“I interrupted your dance,” he said.
“It’s all right,” she said. “So long as you dance with me.”
He held her close, and she rested her head on his chest. They stayed like that until she grew sleepy in his arms.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked. His voice was warm but sent a shiver down her spine.
She pulled away. “I think my mind is too busy for sleep.”
“Is it?” he asked, raising a brow. He leaned closer, and she took a shuddering breath as his lips brushed her ear. “I can take your mind off things.”
She turned her head, and their lips touched.
“Bold of you, God of the Dead, to assume I want to take my mind off things.”
His lips quirked.
“Forgive me, Lady of my Fate,” he said, his fingers threading through her hair. “Please advise how I might be of service.”
She smiled and started to lean in when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw a cat sitting a few feet away. She was fluffy and black, and her eyes were green and bright, almost unnatural in their luminosity.
“No,” she said as a sudden and deep cold overtook her body.
“What’s wrong?” Hades asked.
She turned back to him, meeting his dark gaze. Concern etched his handsome face. Her heart ached when she looked at him.
Don’t leave me, she wanted to beg.
“Kiss me,” she said instead.
His brows lowered, but she pushed forward and slammed her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. She needed him to anchor her here so she would never be lost again, but while he kissed her back, he seemed to sense something was wrong. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled away.
“Persephone,” he said, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the cat who was still sitting quietly in the grass, staring.
She turned to face it fully, angry.
“No!” she said, her eyes welling with tears.
The cat continued to stare.
“I’m not leaving,” she said and pointed to the ground. “This is how everything was supposed to be!”
“Persephone,” Hades said again. He reached for her, but she slipped from his grasp. The shock of his absence made her chest feel like it was split in two, but she couldn’t let him touch her again, or she would really stay.
His eyes were wide, and she thought that in this moment, she’d have rather died than watch his heart break with each step she put between them.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he begged.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just…have to go.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, his eyes so deep and ancient. They were Hades’s eyes to be sure, but they were not the eyes of the Hades she loved, and she knew that in her soul.
She turned toward the cat.
Galanthis, she thought, remembering her name as she took one determined step after another toward her. The feline rose onto her feet and turned to lead her away, and as a cold darkness descended around her, Persephone could still feel the burning eyes of Hades behind her.
She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.
CHAPTER XVI
PERSEPHONE
Persephone opened her eyes to find Galanthis sitting on her chest, staring down at her.
When the cat saw she was awake, she leapt to the ground.
Persephone lay there for a moment, feeling as though she’d surfaced from some kind of nightmare, except she could still remember everything. The agony had been waking to discover she was still trapped in the labyrinth and nowhere close to Hades or the life it had shown her.
Her face felt sticky with tears, and there was a bitter taste at the back of her throat. When she sat up, her head spun, and she closed her eyes against the nausea roiling in her stomach, remnants of poison from the thorns.
When it had passed, she rose to her feet, picking up her blade, which she found on the ground beside her. Scanning her surroundings, she discovered Ariadne lying on her side. She was awake, and Galanthis sat nearby. Somehow, the feline—or whatever it was—had pulled them from the labyrinth’s snare.
Persephone crossed to Ariadne.
“We have to go,” she said and took her hands, helping her up.
Ariadne did not argue, and in what muted light they had, Persephone could tell she had also been crying. Her face glistened, wet from her tears. While she wondered what Ariadne had seen, she did not ask. It was going to be hard enough to get through the labyrinth without thinking about what they’d experienced in the time they’d been out—harder still not to go back and find that place again.
If anything would take them down within these dark corridors, it would be that—the claws of a perfect world calling them home.
Persephone looked down one dark passage and then the other, uncertain of which direction they had come or which direction they should go.
She looked at Galanthis, who was licking her paw. It was as if she suddenly remembered she was a cat and not some other creature that could take down a boar and lead them from other realities.
Persephone picked up the spool of thread. “Which way to my husband?” she asked.
Galanthis finished cleaning her paw before she met Persephone’s gaze. Soundless, she rose to all fours and started down the corridor. Persephone exchanged a look with Ariadne before they followed along, quiet. Though Persephone had no ability to read minds, she had a feeling they were both dwelling on the same thing—their deepest desires.
She wondered if she could retrace her steps and stumble back into that world.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain on her arm. She hissed and looked to her right. Ariadne had pinched her.
“I know what you are thinking,” she said. “But you cannot go back.”
Persephone ground her teeth. She was frustrated, both by the fact that Ariadne had known exactly what she wanted and because she felt weak.
“The danger wasn’t the dream,” said Ariadne. “It’s the aftermath.”
Persephone knew what she meant. It was the yearning. It would have them both wandering the labyrinth forever in search of their greatest desire, never to find it again.
They continued on, following Galanthis down dark passage after dark passage, each turn making Persephone dizzy and disoriented.
“Tell me a truth,” Ariadne said, her voice cutting through the dark like a whip.
“What do you want to know?” Persephone asked. She couldn’t really think; her mind was brimming with memories from her perfect world.
“Anything,” said Ariadne. “What was your first memory?”
The question caught Persephone by surprise, and she had to think for a moment before answering. “My first memory is of me crying,” she said. “I’d reached for a rose because I thought it was beautiful, not aware that the stem was full of thorns.”
She’d always remembered the feel of it puncturing her skin, a sharp sting she’d felt over her whole body.
“My mother was more concerned about the rose and let me cry while she mended the petals I had shaken free.”
When she had expressed her pain, Demeter had offered no comfort.
“Let that remind you of the consequences of touching my flowers,” she’d said.
Persephone had never considered it before, but perhaps that experience was why she would later kill flowers with her touch.
Ariadne met Persephone’s gaze, and there was a flash of regret in her eyes at having asked, but Persephone got the point. It took her mind off the false memories of the dream and the endlessness of the labyrinth.
“What is your favorite memory?” Persephone asked.
Ariadne took a moment to respond, and Persephone wondered how many she had to choose from. It sounded like a strange thing to compare, but Persephone could only think of a few favorite memories, and most of them had been made with Lexa or Hades.
“Probably the times I spent with my sister,” said Ariadne.
“All of them?” Persephone asked when she gave no other details.