I won’t let her hurt you, Leuce.”
Persephone spoke with a note of understanding in her voice that Hades did not share, but her kindness comforted Leuce, and the nymph fell into her, sobbing. Hades watched the strange display, his feelings mixed. On the one hand, it was what he had expected of Persephone, but he was angry with Leuce and frustrated that she had received such an easy pardon, though he supposed she had been punished enough by him.
“Hermes,” Persephone said once Leuce had collected herself. “Will you take Leuce to my suite? I think she deserves some rest.”
He smirked, bowing as he accepted her instruction.
“Yes, my lady.”
Persephone rose with Leuce, and they shared an embrace before Hermes led her from their room. Once they were gone, Persephone’s gaze returned to Hades, her eyes dipping to his exposed flesh, as if she’d just realized he’d been sitting there naked.
Then her eyes darted to his face.
“What?” she asked, likely because he was staring and smiling at her.
“I am just admiring you.”
She raised a brow, her eyes momentarily darkening, but then she sighed.
“I suppose we should summon my mother to the Underworld.”
“Shall we call on her now?” Then he suggested, “Perhaps we should make love so that she has no reason to suspect her plan worked.”
“Hades!” she scolded playfully as he reached for her, pulling her between his thighs. She dropped the sheets and pressed against him skin to skin, and they fell back onto the bed, descending into their madness once more.
Part III
“What we were once and we are today, we shall not be tomorrow.”
—Ovid, Metamorphoses
Chapter XXVI
Survival of the Fittest
Later, they dressed, and Hades sent Hermes to summon Demeter.
“I think you just want her to disfigure my face,” Hermes said. “She will bite my head off when I tell her you’ve commanded her appearance in the Underworld.”
“Then don’t tell her Hades sent for her,” Persephone replied. “Tell her I command it.”
Hermes smiled at that. “Will do, Sephy,” he said and left the Underworld.
“Are you nervous?” Hades asked as they walked, hands linked, to the throne room, where they would receive her mother. Hades thought it was the second-best option, the first being their bedchamber, though Persephone had shot that idea down. And to be honest, he looked forward to witnessing this—Persephone looking radiant in her Divine form, wrapped in a white peplos, being who she was meant to be, a goddess and queen.
“No,” she said and looked at him, and as their eyes met, a warm smile spread across her face. It felt like a long time since she had looked at him that way, and it made his throat feel tight. “Not with you by my side.”
His lips curled, and he squeezed her hand. It was all he could manage for the moment. Anything else and he would pull her to him, kiss her, and he wouldn’t stop.
“Remember what I taught you in the meadow,” he said.
“With your hands or your mouth?” she countered, breathless.
“Both,” he said. “If it helps you with your magic. Plus, I will take great pleasure in knowing you are thinking of my mouth while you put your mother in her place.”
They entered the throne room, which while dark was not cast in the red light that had made Persephone’s wounds look so much worse. Instead, his halls were brightened by the glow of Hecate’s lampades.
Leuce already waited at the base of the steps to the dais where Hades once sat alone, where two thrones now stood—his a jagged obsidian and Persephone’s a smooth ivory embellished with gold and florals. When Persephone saw it, she looked at him.
“You missed an opportunity, Lord Hades.”
He quirked a brow in question.
“I could have sat on your lap.”
He grinned as he helped her up the steps, and as Persephone turned, he asked, “Is that a suggestion or a request, my queen?”
“Something to consider,” she replied. “For next time, perhaps. I fear we may have pushed my mother too far with our request.”
“She has little power here, my darling.” Hades guided her to sit and did the same.
“Stand beside me, Leuce,” said Persephone, and as she did, the nymph shook.
Persephone frowned. His goddess had far more sympathy for Leuce than he did, though he was not surprised. It was in her nature, but Persephone also knew what it was to live beneath the constant and critical eye of Demeter.