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A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(92)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

“I could hardly deny her request when she had razor-sharp thorns pointed at my nether regions.”

Hades’s mood lightened at that comment, and he almost smiled at the image of Apollo being castrated by Persephone’s magic. Then he remembered that he had probably been naked during this entire encounter and frowned.

“So we struck a deal. A bargain, as you like to call it. She asked me to heal her little friend, and in exchange, she provides me with…

companionship.”

“Don’t make it sound gross, Apollo,” Persephone hissed, glaring at the god, and while Hades watched her, she did not look at him.

“Gross?”

“Everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like a sexual innuendo.”

“Does not!”

“Does too.”

“Enough!” Hades snarled.

Persephone startled, her eyes finally meeting his, and once more, he saw her fear. There was a part of him that wanted her to be afraid, because he wanted her to understand the severity of what she had done. This had consequences beyond anything he could control.

He held her gaze as he continued to address Apollo. “If you are no longer in need of my goddess, I would like a word with her. Alone.”

Apollo did not hesitate. As arrogant and irritating as he was, he knew when to push buttons.

“She’s all yours,” he replied and vanished without another word.

Silence stretched as Hades stood opposite Persephone, trying to understand what she had done, why she had done it.

I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades, she’d said. So had she just decided not to learn at all?

“What have you done?”

Persephone’s eyes flashed. Normally, he would have fed her defiance because he loved her passion, but this—this was misguided.

“I saved Lexa.”

“Is that what you think?”

He took a step toward her, and his magic snaked around him. He couldn’t tell if it was trying to protect him or Persephone because he was losing his temper, and by the time he stood inches from her, he no longer bore his mortal glamour.

“She was going to die—”

“She was choosing to die!” Hades shouted. She stared back, her eyes glistening. “And instead of honoring her wish, you intervened. All because you are afraid of pain.”

“I am afraid of pain,” she yelled back, her voice imbued with a hatred he had never heard before. “Will you mock me for that as you mock all mortals?”

“There is no comparison,” he spat. “At least mortals are brave enough to face it.”

Her whole body seemed to flinch in that moment, igniting her magic and pushing thorns from her skin. Hades watched once more in horror as her body became covered in bleeding spikes. They ran down her arms, over her back and stomach, and down her legs. If she did not learn control, she would tear herself to pieces. He reached for her because he didn’t know what else to do, and despite everything, he could not stand watching this.

He wanted to heal her—not just these physical wounds but the ones on her heart and soul.

“Persephone—”

But she took a step back, shutting down his advances. She inhaled sharply as she made a miserable attempt to cover the thorns by crossing her arms over her chest.

“If you cared, you would have been there.”

“I was there!” He had been there every time she had come to him, and each time, she had begged him to save Lexa’s life.

“You never once came with me to the hospital when I had to watch my best friend lie unresponsive. You never once stood by me while I held her hand. You could have told me when Thanatos would start showing up. You could have let me know she was…choosing to die. But you didn’t. You hid all that, like it was some fucking secret. You weren’t there.”

His eyes widened, and the heaviness in his chest expanded into his stomach. It was true he had not considered many of those things, but that was because he had never given courtesies in death. He’d also been pulled away nearly every other day by something. If it wasn’t the Graeae, it had been Hera’s trials.

“I didn’t know you wanted me there,” he said, his voice quiet. He had thought the time she spent with Lexa at the hospital was time she wanted to herself.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, brows lowering.

“I’m not the most welcomed sight at a hospital, Persephone.”

“That’s your excuse?”

The edge to her voice made him feel defensive. “And what’s yours?” he asked, voice raising once more, despite how badly he wanted to remain

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