“Yes.” Her eyes fell to where her palms now rested, flat on his chest. “She’s thinking we should have a ball.”
He was quiet so long, she thought he must be angry, so she looked up to meet his gaze.
“Are you trying to seduce me so I’ll agree to your ball?” he asked.
“Is it working?”
He chuckled and drew her closer. His arousal was hard against her stomach and she gasped. It was the only answer she required, and still he said against her ear, “It’s working.” He kissed her thoroughly and released her. “Plan your ball, Lady Persephone.”
“Come home soon, Lord Hades.”
He smiled wickedly before vanishing.
She realized in that moment, she was afraid to say anything about the contract because that might mean disappointment. It might mean the realization that this would never work.
And that would break her.
***
Persephone met Lexa and Sybil for lunch at The Golden Apple. Luckily, with Sybil present, Lexa didn’t ask any questions about the kiss, though it was possible Sybil already knew the details. The girls talked about finals, graduation, the gala, and Apollo.
It all started because Lexa asked Sybil, “So, are you and Apollo…?”
“Dating? No,” Sybil said. “But I think he hopes I will agree to be his lover.”
Persephone and Lexa exchanged a look.
“Wait,” Lexa said. “He asked? Like…for permission?”
Sybil smirked, and Persephone admired how the oracle could talk about this so easily. “He did, and I told him no.”
“You told Apollo, the God of the Sun, perfection incarnate, no?” Lexa looked slightly appalled. “Why?”
“Lexa, you can’t ask that!” Persephone chided.
Sybil just smiled and said, “Apollo will not love one person and I do not wish to share.”
Persephone understood why Sybil wouldn’t want to get involved with the god. Apollo had a long list of lovers that spanned divine, semi-divine, and mortal—and, as the God of Light’s list had proven, he never stayed with one person too long.
Conversation lapsed into making plans for the weekend, and once they had decided where they would meet for drinks and dancing, Persephone left for the Underworld.
She watered her garden and went to find Hecate in her cottage. It was a small home, nestled in a dark meadow, and while it was charming, there was something…foreboding about it. Perhaps it was because of the coloring—the siding was dark grey, the door a dark purple, and ivy crawled up the house, covering the windows and roof.
Inside, it was like she had stepped into a garden filled with night-blooming flowers—thick, purple wisteria hung overhead like clusters of stars in a blackout night while a carpet of white nicotiana covered the ground. A table, chairs, and bed were crafted of soft black wood that looked as if it had grown into the formation of each piece. Orbs rose into the air and it took Persephone a moment to recognize what they really were—lampades, small and beautiful fairy-like creatures with hair like night, laced with white flowers and silvery skin.
Hecate wasn’t sitting on the bed or at the table, but on the grassy floor. Her legs were folded under her, and her eyes were closed. A lit black candle flickered in front of her.
“Hecate?” Persephone asked, knocking on the doorframe, but the goddess didn’t stir. She stepped further into the room. “Hecate?”
Still no response. It was like she was asleep.
Persephone bent and blew out the candle, and Hecate’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, she looked positively wicked, her eyes an endless black, and Persephone suddenly understood the kind of goddess Hecate could become if she was pushed—the kind of goddess that turned Gale the witch into Gale the polecat.
When she recognized Persephone, she smiled. “Welcome back, my lady.”
“Persephone,” she corrected, and Hecate’s smile widened.
“I’m only trying it out,” she said. “You know, for when you become mistress of the Underworld.”
Persephone blushed fiercely. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Hecate.”
The goddess raised a brow, and Persephone rolled her eyes.
“What were you doing?” Persephone asked.
“Oh, just cursing a mortal,” Hecate replied almost cheerfully, grabbing the candle and getting to her feet. She put it away and turned to face Persephone. “Watered your garden already, dear?”
“Yes.”
“Shall we begin?”
She was quick to get down to business, directing Persephone to sit on the floor. Persephone hesitated, but after encouragement from Hecate to see if her touch still took life, she knelt to the ground. When she pressed her hands to the grass, nothing happened.
“Amazing,” Persephone whispered.
Hecate spent the next half hour leading her through a meditation that was supposed to help her visualize and use her power.
“You must practice calling to your magic,” Hecate said.
“How do I do that?”
“Magic is malleable. As you call for it, imagine it as clay—mold it into what you desire and then…give it life.”
Persephone shook her head. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy,” Hecate said. “All it takes is belief.”
Persephone wasn’t sure about that, but she tried to do as Hecate instructed. She imagined the life she felt in the wisteria above her as something she could shape and willed the plants to grow larger and more vibrant, but when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed.
Hecate must have noticed her disappointment, because she placed a hand on Persephone’s shoulder. “It will take time, but you will master this.”
Persephone smiled at the goddess, but wilted on the inside. She had no choice but to master this if was going to fulfill her contract with Hades, because, as much as she liked the King of the Underworld, she had no desire to be a prisoner of his realm.
“Persephone?”
“Huh?”
She blinked, looking at Hecate who grinned.
“Thinking of our King?”
She looked away. “Everyone knows, don’t they?”
“Well, he did carry you through the palace to his bedroom.”
She stared at the grass. She hadn’t intended to have this conversation, and though it pained her to speak the words, she said, “I’m not sure it should have happened.”
“Why ever not?”
“For so many reasons, Hecate.”
The goddess waited.
“The contract, for one,” Persephone explained. “And my mother will never let me out of her sight again if she finds out.” Persephone paused. “What if she can see it when she looks at me? What if she knows I’m not the virginal goddess she’s always wanted?”
Hecate chuckled. “No god has the power to determine if you are a virgin.”
“Not a god, but a mother.”
Hecate frowned. “Do you regret sleeping with Hades? Forget your mother and the contract—do you regret it?”
“No. I could never regret him.”
“My dear, you are at war with yourself. It has created darkness within you.”
“Darkness?”
“Anger, fear, resentment,” Hecate said. “If you do not free yourself first, no one else can.”
Persephone knew darkness had always existed within her, and it had deepened over the last few months, rising to the surface when she felt challenged or angry. She thought of how she’d threatened that nymph at The Coffee House, how she’d snapped at her mother, how jealous she’d been of Minthe.
Her mother might claim that the mortal world had done this to her—grew the darkness into something tangible—but Persephone knew otherwise. It had always been there, a dark seed, fueling her dreams and her passions, and Hades had roused it, charmed it, fed it.
Let me coax the darkness from you—I will help you shape it.
And she had let him.
“When did you feel life for the first time?” Hecate asked, curious.
“After Hades and I…” she didn’t need to finish her sentence.
“Hmm.” The Goddess of Magic tapped her chin. “I think, perhaps, the God of the Dead has created life within you.”
CHAPTER XXII – THE ASCENSION BALL
By Friday, Hades had not returned from Olympia, and Persephone was surprised by how anxious that made her. She knew he planned to be at the Ascension Ball this evening because when she arrived in the Underworld to help decorate, Hecate ushered her into another part of the palace to get ready, she greeted Persephone with, “Lord Hades has sent your gown. It’s beautiful.”
Persephone had no idea Hades planned on sending her a gown at all. “May I see it?”
“Later, dear,” she said, opening a set of gilded doors to a suite unlike the rest of the palace. Instead of dark floors and walls, they were marble white and inlaid with gold. The bed was luxurious and covered in fluffy blankets, the floors in soft furs. Overhead, a large chandelier dropped from a dome ceiling.
“These rooms, who are they for?” Persephone asked as she entered, trailing her fingers along the edge of a white vanity.
“The mistress of the Underworld,” Hecate replied.
Persephone let that sink in a little. She knew Hades had created everything in his realm, so adding a suite for a wife must have meant he’d considered having one. She remembered what Hermes had alluded to about the subject at the gala. Did these rooms prove the god had hopes of marrying?
“But…Hades has never had a wife,” Persephone hedged.
“He has not.”
“So…these rooms have never been occupied?”
“Not that we are aware. Come, let’s get you ready.”
Hecate called for her lampades and they set to work. Persephone bathed, and while she reclined in the tub, Hecate’s nymphs polished her toes and nails. Once she was dry, they rubbed oils into her skin. They smelled of lavender and vanilla—her favorite scents. When she said as much, Hecate smiled.
“Ah, Lord Hades said you loved them.”
“I don’t recall telling Hades my favorite scents.”
“I don’t suppose you had to,” she said absently. “He can smell them.”
She directed Persephone to the vanity with a mirror so large, she could see the whole wall on the opposite side of the room. The nymphs took time arranging her hair, piling it atop her head. When they finished, pretty ringlets framed her face, and gold clips glistened in her blond hair.
“It’s beautiful,” Persephone told the lampades. “I love it.”
“Just wait until you see your gown,” Hecate said.
The Goddess of Witchcraft disappeared into the closet and returned with a strip of shimmering gold fabric. Persephone couldn’t tell what it looked like until she slipped it on. The fabric was cool against her skin and when she looked in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. The gown Hades had chosen for her hung on her body like liquid gold. With a plunging neckline, backless design, and thigh high split, it was beautiful, daring, and delicate.
“You are a vision,” Hecate said.
Persephone smiled. “Thank you, Hecate.”
The Goddess of Witchcraft left to get ready for tonight’s festivities, leaving Persephone alone.
“This is the closest I have ever looked to a goddess,” she said aloud, smoothing her hands over her dress.