“Yes… Hades,” she said, and he knew she was waiting for him to look at her. He took a few deep breaths, until the wetness behind his eyes did not feel so threatening. When he met her gaze, he did not see what he expected —no resentment or anger or hatred. He just saw…her, beautiful and raw and open.
“Thank you for today,” she whispered.
Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. He had only tried to make up for what he had done so wrong before.
“It was nothing,” he said and turned back to the fire, but Persephone reached for him. He held her gaze, and as much as he wanted to give her distance in this moment, he realized she was asking for the opposite.
“It was everything,” she said, her eyes heated, her lips parted.
He angled toward her and took her mouth against his, and they knelt before the fireplace. The heat from the flames made their skin hot and slick.
Hades took his time with her once more, much as he had done in the mountains, and when he found himself sliding into her, she spoke.
“You were right,” she said, her body shifting beneath his, legs widening, back arching.
“I did not want to be right,” he said as he began to move.
“I should have listened.”
“Shh,” he soothed, bending to kiss her mouth. “No more talk of what you should have done. What is, is. There is nothing else to be done but move
forward.”
He recognized he needed to take Hecate’s advice just as much as she did, but the words worked to calm her, and soon they were moving together, hard and fast and measured, and when Persephone started to moan his name, his lust for her knew no bounds. He gripped her hips and slammed into her, liking the bite of her nails as they scored his skin, and he came so hard inside her, he collapsed when he was done.
They rested like that for a long while, shifting only to be closer to the fire, as they’d moved a considerable distance during sex.
“I’m going to quit New Athens News,” Persephone said.
“Oh?”
It was the first time he had heard of this plan, but he could not say he disapproved. He hated Kal Stavros, and while he did not think the mortal would bother her anymore, he’d rather she not work for him.
“I want to start an online community and blog. I’m going to call it The Advocate—it will be a place for the voiceless.”
He smiled a little, knowing that this was what she was passionate about—
offering a space for those who felt like they were not heard, much as she had felt throughout her life.
“It sounds like you have thought about this a lot,” Hades said.
“I have.”
He placed a hand beneath her chin and drew her gaze to his. “What do you need from me?”
“Your support.”
He nodded, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You have it.”
“And I’d like to hire Leuce as an assistant.”
He raised his brows, though he wasn’t surprised. “I’m sure she’d be pleased.”
“And…I need your permission.”
He almost laughed at her list of requests, but he was intrigued, unable to imagine what she might ask his permission for, though he would grant anything if she asked.
“Oh?”
“I want the first story to be our story. I want to tell the world how I fell in love with you. I want to be the first to announce our engagement.”
His chest felt tight at her words, and while he’d never consider offering their life to anyone willingly, he would do it for Persephone.
“Hmm,” he said, pretending to consider her demand. “I will agree under one condition.”
“And that is?”
“I too wish to tell the world how I fell in love with you.”
She smiled and offered a breathy laugh as he took her mouth against his, and when she shifted to straddle his body, he gladly let her take him.
*
Hades had attended few mortal funerals, and when he did, it was often when he was cloaked in glamour, but this one—Lexa’s—was different. He attended with Persephone because she asked, and even if she hadn’t, he would have been there for her. It was a morose affair, with many dressed in black.
“She would have hated this,” Persephone said. “She would have wanted a celebration.”
Hades smoothed her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Funerals are for the living.”
It wasn’t long after that her anxiety began to rise. Hades did not need to look to know what had upset her—mortals. Those in attendance knew who he was, knew who she was, and did not understand why he had allowed Lexa to die. He could feel their gazes, angry and discontent, though all he cared about was how Persephone felt.