“Get out. ”
“Enough!” Hades shouted, and the images vanished from his mind.
A heavy silence followed. Hades stood still as a stone, processing what he had just seen. His feelings raged, a storm of emotions that he couldn’t quite place. In that moment, he had seen Persephone’s raw fear, but he had also seen a side of her that was angry and a little manipulative.
The greater issue was that she was still trying to stop Lexa’s inevitable death.
“How long does she have?” Hades asked.
“A day,” Thanatos replied. “Maybe two.”
Another long bout of silence.
“She’s ready, Hades,” Thanatos added softly, and the note in his voice was exhausted.
Hades could just imagine that was how Lexa felt. She was tired.
He could do nothing but nod.
“Reap when you are ready, Thanatos,” Hades instructed. And I will deal with Persephone, he thought, even as he dreaded the encounter. She would not understand, though there was a part of him that did not understand either. He liked Lexa, knew that she was a good friend to Persephone.
Every interaction they’d had was fun and pleasant. Despite this, the girl still wanted to leave, but Hades was not one to deny pure souls, and he would not deny this one rest, even if it hurt Persephone more than anything in the world.
Hades approached Thanatos, placing a hand on his shoulder. He had hoped it was a reassuring gesture, but the contact only made his dread deepen because he could sense the chaotic emotions in the god’s energy.
“I’m sorry, Hades,” Thanatos said, and it was a reminder that despite their familiarity with death, some things never got any easier.
Hades left the meadow and made his return to the palace on foot to give himself time to process what he had seen through Thanatos’s eyes. By the time he made it to the throne room, he was no closer to releasing that strange frustration, disappointment, and pain. He considered how often he had talked to Persephone about this, how he’d attempted to prepare her for the possibility of Lexa’s death and still she seemed determined to prevent it, and that worried him far more than anything else, because she had already tried to bargain in exchange for Lexa’s life.
Perhaps she needed to hear the consequences from the King of the Underworld, not her lover.
He sat on his throne, hands curled around the arms, closed his eyes, and searched for the familiar pull between them, the strange link he shared with no one else. He always knew when he found her because he felt instantly at peace, as if he were somehow more complete. This time, as he latched on to her magic, he pulled her to him, teleporting her to his realm.
It was, for the most part, a move designed to illustrate his power, and when she appeared in the dark-reddish light of his throne room, she looked severe, angry, and hurt. She didn’t even speak to him when she arrived before she was already attempting to teleport. When her magic did not work, she snapped.
“You cannot just remove me from the Upperworld when you please!”
“You are lucky I removed you and not the Furies.”
“Send me back, Hades!” Her voice was raw with anger. It was a tone he had never really heard from her before, but grief was strange, and it transformed emotions into monsters. For Persephone, it also made her magic riot. It boiled between them, thickening the air, and he wondered what she would do with all that energy building inside her. Would flowers bloom at her feet, or would vines burst from the floors?
“No.”
He wouldn’t keep her against her will, but he wasn’t going to let her leave until they discussed how she had treated Thanatos. Persephone’s magic seemed to have other ideas, and he felt it ripple and watched in horror as thorns erupted from Persephone’s skin like blades—at her shoulder, her side, and her calves. She was immediately covered in blood, and she sank to her knees with a cry. Hades’s shock brought him to his feet, and he raced down the precipice to her side.
“Stop!” she sobbed, shaking from her pain. “Don’t come any closer!”
There was no fucking way he was going to leave her alone. She’d nearly exploded in a bloody heap of thorns, and he didn’t think that was an exaggeration. Her magic had done this. It had gained power from her anger, and when it had nowhere to go, it just manifested like this.
He knelt beside her, unsure of what to do. She had gone so pale, and it was made worse by the light, which made her blood look black.
“Fuck, Persephone. How long has your magic been manifesting like this?”