The sudden feel of Hades’ magic, warm and safe and familiar, gave her pause. She braced to teleport, since the last time she had felt it, that’s exactly what happened. This time, however, Hades appeared behind her. She met his dark eyes in the mirror and started to turn, but Hades’ voice rang out, “Don’t move. Let me look at you.”
His instructions were more of a request than a command, and she swallowed, barely able to handle the heat his presence ignited inside her. He radiated power and darkness, and her body responded—craved the power, hungered for the heat, yearned for the darkness. She burned to touch him, but held his gaze for a breath before he started a slow circle around her.
When he finished, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, welding their bodies together. “Drop your glamour.”
She hesitated. In truth, her human glamour was her security, and Hades’ command made her want to hold onto it tighter. “Why?”
“Because I wish to see you,” he said.
Her grip tightened on the glamour, but Hades coaxed in a voice that made her melt, “Let me see you.”
She closed her eyes and released her hold. Her glamour slipped away like water dripping down her skin, and she knew when it was completely gone because she felt both unburdened and raw.
“Open your eyes,” Hades encouraged, and when she did, she was in her goddess form.
Everything about her presence had intensified, and she glowed against Hades’ darkness.
“Darling, you are a goddess,” Hades said, and pressed his lips to her shoulder. Persephone wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him to her; their lips crashed together, and when Hades growled, Persephone turned in his arms.
“I have missed you.” He cupped her face, eyes searching. She wondered what he was looking for.
“I missed you, too.”
The admission made her blush, and Hades smirked, pulling her in for another kiss. His lips brushed hers—once, twice—teasing, before Persephone sealed their lips together. She was ravenous and he tasted rich and smoky, like the whiskey he drank. Her hands slipped down his chest; she wanted to touch him, feel his skin against her own, but Hades stopped her with his hands on her wrists, breaking their kiss.
“I am just as eager, my darling,” he said. “But if we do not leave now, I think we shall miss your party.”
She wanted to pout, but she also knew he was right.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand.
When she took it, Hades dropped his glamour. She could watch it all day—the way his magic moved like shadow, peeling off him like smoke, revealing his striking form. His hair fell over his shoulders, and a silver crown made of jagged edges decorated the base of his massive horns. The suit he had been wearing moments ago was replaced by black robes, the edges embroidered in silver.
“Careful, Goddess,” Hades warned in a low growl. “Or we won’t leave this room.”
She shivered and quickly looked away.
Fingers laced, he led her out of the suite and into the hallway, to a set of gilded doors. Beyond them, she could hear the low rumble of a large crowd. Her anxiety spiked, probably because she had no glamour to protect her. She realized that was silly—she knew these people and they knew her.
Still, she felt like an impostor—an impostor goddess, an impostor queen, an impostor lover.
Each of those thoughts hurt worse than the other so she shoved them down deep and entered the ballroom beside Hades.
Everything went silent.
They stood at the top of a staircase that led to the packed ballroom floor. The room was crowded from wall to wall, and she recognized many of those in attendance—gods and souls and creatures alike. She spotted Euryale, Ilias, and Mekonnen. She smiled at them, her anxiety forgotten, and when they bowed, Hades led her down the stairs.
As they made their way through the crowd, Persephone smiled and nodded, and when her eyes fell on Hecate, she broke from Hades to take her hands. “Hecate! You look beautiful!”
The Goddess of Witchcraft was luminous—she wore a silver, glittering gown that fit her frame and flared out. Her thick, dark hair spilled over her shoulders and sparkling stars glittered in her long locks.
“You flatter me, my dear,” she said as they embraced.
Suddenly, Persephone found herself surrounded by souls. They hugged her and thanked her, told her how amazing the palace looked and how beautiful she was. She didn’t know how long she stood there, accepting embraces and talking to the people of the Underworld, but it was music that broke up the crowd.
Persephone’s first dance was with a few children from the Underworld. They moved in circles and begged to be lifted and twirled. Persephone obliged, marveling at their joy as they moved about the ballroom.
When that dance finished, Charon approached. He was dressed all in white, his usual color, except the edges of his robes were embroidered with azure thread. He bowed, one hand covering his heart. “My lady, may I have the next dance?”
She smiled and took his hand. “Of course!”
Persephone joined a line dance, weaving through the souls. The tempo was quick, and she was soon out of breath and flushed. She clapped and laughed and grinned until her face hurt. Two dances later, she turned to find Hermes bowing behind her.
“My lady,” he said.
“It’s Persephone, Hermes,” she said, taking his hand. The music was different now, coasting into a charming, slow melody.
“You look almost as amazing as me,” he said smugly as they moved about the room.
“What a thoughtful compliment,” she teased.
The god grinned and then leaned in. “I can’t tell if it’s the dress or all the sex you’ve been having with the god of this realm.”
Persephone blushed. “Not funny, Hermes!”
He lifted a brow. “Isn’t it?”
“How do you even know?”
“Well, it’s rumored he carried you through the palace to his bed.”
She blushed fiercely. She would never forgive Hades for that.
“I see it’s true.”
Persephone rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it.
“So, tell me—how was it?”
“I’m not going to talk to you about it, Hermes.”
“I bet he’s rough,” Hermes mused.
Persephone looked away both to hide her blush and her laugh. “You’re impossible.”
Hermes chuckled. “But truly—love looks good on you.”
“Love?” she almost choked.
“Oh dear—you haven’t realized it yet, have you?”
“Realized what?”
“That you’re in love with Hades.”
“I’m not!”
“Are too,” he said. “And he loves you.”
“I almost preferred your questions about my sex life,” she muttered.
Hermes laughed. “You walked into this room like you were his queen. You think he would let just anyone do that?”
She honestly didn’t know.
“I think the Lord of the Underworld has found his bride.”
She wanted to argue that Hades hadn’t found her—he’d captured her—but instead of saying that, she raised her brow at the God of Trickery. “Hermes, are you drunk?”
“A little,” he admitted sheepishly,
Persephone laughed, but his words worked into her mind. Did she love Hades? She had only let herself think of it briefly after their first night together and then crushed those thoughts altogether.
As Hermes spun her, she glanced around, searching the crowd for Hades. She hadn’t seen him since they had come down the stairs together, and she’d immediately been surrounded by souls. She spotted him sitting in a dark throne. He was reclined, a hand raised to his lips, staring at her. Thanatos stood on one side, dressed in black, his wings folded neatly like a cape. Minthe loomed on the other looking radiant in shimmery black. They were like an angel and a devil on the shoulders of the God of the Dead.
Persephone looked away quickly, but Hermes seemed to notice she was distracted and stopped dancing.
“It’s alright, Sephy.” He released her. “Go to him.”
Persephone hesitated. “It’s okay—”
“Claim him, Persephone.”
She smiled at Hermes, and the crowd parted as she made her way to Hades. He watched her, and she couldn’t quite place the look on his face, but something inside her was drawn to him. As she neared, his hand fell, resting on the arm of his throne. She bowed low, then rose.
“My lord, will you dance?”
Hades’ eyes were alight, and his lips twitched. He stood, a towering and commanding figure, and took her hand, leading her to the floor. The souls made room, packing in against the walls to give them space and to watch. Hades drew her against him, his hand firm on her back, the other laced between her fingers.
She had been closer to him than this, but there was something about the way he held her now before all of his subjects that made her skin burn. The air grew thick and charged between them. They didn’t speak for a long moment, just looked at one another.
“Are you displeased?” she asked after some time.
“Am I displeased that you have danced with Charon and Hermes?” he asked.
Is that what she was asking? She stared at him and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her ear. “I am displeased that I am not inside you.”
She tried not to smile. “My lord, why didn’t you say so?”
His eyes darkened. “Careful, Goddess, I have no qualms taking you before my whole realm.”
“You wouldn’t.”
His look challenged, Dare me.
She didn’t.
They glided across the floor in silence for a little while longer before Hades pulled her off the floor and up the stairs. Behind them, the crowd clapped and whistled.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To remedy my displeasure,” he replied.
Once they left the ballroom, he led her outside onto a balcony at the end of the hall. It was a large space—and Persephone became distracted by the view it offered, an underworld cloaked in darkness, ignited by glimmering starlight. She marveled at the craftsmanship the attention to detail.
This was Hades’ magic.
But when she started to walk ahead of Hades, he pulled her back to him. His eyes were dark, communicating his need.
“Why did you ask me to drop my glamour?” she asked.
Hades brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I told you—you will not hide here. You needed to understand what it is to be a god.”
“I’m not like you,” she said.
His hands trailed up her arms and he smiled. “No, we have only two things in common.”
She raised a brow. “And those are?”
“We are both Divine,” he said, inching closer. “And the space we share.”
He lifted her into his arms, and her back met the wall. Hades’ hands were almost desperate, drawing up her dress and parting robes. He sank deep inside her without warning and they both groaned. His forehead rested against hers, and she inhaled a shaky breath. “Is this what it’s like to be a god?”
Hades pulled back to meet her gaze. “This is what it is like to have my favor,” he answered, and moved, sliding in and out, invading her in the most delicious way. Their gazes held and their breaths became heavier, faster.
Persephone’s head fell back, the stone bit into her scalp and back, but she didn’t care. Each thrust touched something deep inside her, building sensation after sensation.
“You are perfect,” he said, fingers twisting into her hair. He cupped the back of her head, his thrusts taunted as he slowed, moving at a pace that ensured she could feel every part of him.
“You are beautiful. I have never wanted like I want with you.”
His admission came with a kiss, and then Hades pumped in and out of her harder than ever and her body devoured him. They came together, their cries smothered by their clasped lips.
Hades withdrew carefully, holding her against him until her legs stopped shaking. Then sky ignited behind them, and Hades drew her to the edge of the balcony.
“Watch,” he said.
On the dark horizon, fire shot into the sky, disappearing into a trail of glimmering sparks.
“The souls are returning to the mortal world,” Hades said. “This is reincarnation.”
Persephone watched in awe as more and more souls rose into the sky, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
It was magic.
Below, the residents of the Underworld had gathered in the stone courtyard, and when the final souls rose into the air, they broke into applause, music began again, and the merriment continued. Persephone found herself smiling, and when she looked at Hades, he was staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Let me worship you,” he said.
She remembered the words she had whispered to him in the back of the limo after La Rose. You will worship me, and I won’t even have to order you. His request felt sinful and devious, and she reveled in it.
She answered, “Yes.”
CHAPTER XXIII – A TOUCH OF NORMAL
Persephone was looking forward to a date with Hades.
It had been a few weeks since the Ascension Ball, and she had spent a lot of time with him. He’d started seeking her out while she was in the Underworld, asking her to go for walks or play a game of her choosing. She’d begun making requests of him, too; he’d played with the children in the Underworld, added a new play area for them, and hosted a few dinners for the souls and his staff.
It was during these moments that her connection to him grew, and she found she felt far more passion for him than she ever had before. It manifested when they came together late at night, making love as if they’d never see one another again. Everything felt so desperate, and Persephone realized it was because neither of them were using words to communicate how they felt.
And she felt like she was falling.
One evening, after a particularly intense game of strip poker, they lay in bed, Persephone’s head on Hades’ chest while he brushed his fingers absently through her hair. “Allow me to take you to dinner.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Dinner? Like…out in public?”
Her stomach clenched at the thought, worried about the media attention. Since Hades had announced The Halcyon Project, more articles about her were appearing in magazines across New Greece—the Corinth Chronicle, The Ithaca Inquirer. The ones that made her the most anxious were those that tried to research her background. Right now, they’d found enough to satisfy them, writing things like she’d been homeschooled until eighteen, at which point she came to New Athens University from Olympia. Majoring in journalism, she found an internship with New Athens News and began her relationship with Hades after an interview.
It was just a matter of time before they wanted more. She should know, she was a journalist.
“Not in public exactly,” he said. “But I do want to take you to a public restaurant.”
She hesitated, and Hades gave her a meaningful look.
“I would keep you safe.”
She knew that was true, and this god had managed to avoid the media for a very long time—though she knew that was due in part to his power of invisibility and the fear he struck in mortals.
“Okay,” she smiled. Despite her reservations, it was terribly romantic that Hades wanted to do something so…simple. Like take her to dinner.
Since that night, everything had been hectic. School was busy, work was stressful, and she had been accosted by strangers in person and via email. People stopped and questioned her about her relationship with Hades on the bus, during walks, and while writing at The Coffee House. Some journalists emailed to ask if they could interview her for their newspapers—others offered jobs. She had gotten into a habit of checking her inbox once a day and mass deleting the majority of the emails she received without reading them, but this time when she logged in, she noticed a disturbing subject line: I know you’re fucking him.
Journalists were a little more professional than that.
Dread pooled in her stomach as she clicked on the email and found a string of photos. They were images of her with Hades, all taken in the Underworld while they were on the balcony during the Ascension Ball. The email concluded with: I want my job back or I’ll release these to the media.
The email was from Adonis. She pulled out her phone to call him—she hadn’t deleted his number yet, and she figured this was the best way to reach him.
She could tell he picked up the phone, but he didn’t offer a greeting, just waited for her to speak.
“What the hell, Adonis?” she demanded. “Where did you get the photos?”
“I’m sure you’d like to know.”
“Hades will crush you.”
“He can try, but then he probably doesn’t want to face Aphrodite’s wrath.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“You have three weeks,” he said.
“How am I supposed to get your job back for you?” she snapped.
“You’ll think of something. You did get me fired.”
“You got yourself fired, Adonis,” she hissed. “You shouldn’t have stolen my article.”
“I made you famous,” he argued.
“You didn’t make me anything but a victim, and I’m not interested in continuing that trend.”
There was a long pause on the other side before Adonis spoke again. “Time is running out, Persephone.”
He hung up, and she put the phone down, thoughts racing. The easiest thing to do was to ask Demetri if he’d consider hiring Adonis back, so she rose from her seat and knocked on his door. “Do you have a moment?”
Her boss looked up from his computer, glasses reflecting his blue shirt and yellow tie—making eye contact almost impossible. “Yes, come in.”
Persephone only took a few steps into the room. “What are the chances Adonis could…come back?”
“He was dishonest, Persephone. I have no interest in employing him again.” When she nodded, he asked, “Why?”
“Just feeling…a little bad for him is all,” she managed, though the words tasted like blood in her mouth.