“What?”
Her mother glared. “When you were born, I went to the Fates and asked of your future. A goddess had not been born in ages and I worried for you. They told me you were destined to be a Queen of Darkness, the Bride of Death. Hades’ wife. I could not let that happen. I did the only thing I could do—kept you hidden and safe.”
“No, not safe,” Persephone said. “You did it so I would always need you, so you would never have to be alone.”
The two stared at each other for a moment and then Persephone said, “I know you do not believe in love, mother, but you had no right to keep me from mine.”
Demeter blinked, obviously shocked by Persephone’s words. “Love? You can’t…love Hades.”
She wished she didn’t then she wouldn’t feel this aching in her chest.
“See, that’s the problem with you trying to control my life. You’re wrong. You’ve always been wrong. I know I’m not the daughter you wanted, but I am the daughter you have, and if you have any wish to be in my life, you will let me live it.”
Demeter glared.
“So this is it? You have come to tell me you’ve chosen Hades over me?”
“No, I came to tell you that I forgive you…for everything.”
Demeter’s expression was one of contempt.
“You forgive me? It is you who should be begging for my forgiveness. I did everything for you!”
“I do not need your forgiveness to live an unburdened life, and I most certainly will not beg for it.” Persephone waited. She wasn’t sure what she expected her mother to say—maybe that she loved her? That she wanted a relationship with her, and they would figure out this new normal?
But she said nothing, and Persephone felt her shoulders fall.
She was emotionally exhausted. What she wanted now more than anything was to be surrounded by people who loved her for who she was.
She was tired of fighting.
“Whenever you are ready to reconcile, let me know.”
Persephone snapped her fingers, intent on teleporting from the greenhouse, except that she remained where she was, trapped.
Demeter’s face darkened with a devious smile.
“I am sorry, my flower, but I cannot allow you to leave. Not when I have just managed to reclaim you once again.”
“I asked you to let me live,” Persephone’s voice shook.
“And you will. Here. Where you belong.”
“No,” Persephone’s fists curled.
“In time you will understand—this moment in our lives will be forgotten in the vastness of your lifetime.”
Lifetime. The word made Persephone breathless. She couldn’t imagine a lifetime locked in this place—a lifetime without adventure, without love, without passion.
She wouldn’t.
“Things will be as they were before.”
But things could never be as they were before, and Persephone knew it. She had a taste—a touch of darkness, and she would crave it the rest of her life.
When Persephone began to shake, so did the ground, and Demeter’s demanded, “What is the meaning of this, Kore?”
It was time for Persephone to smile.
“Oh, mother. You don’t understand, but, everything has changed.”
And out of the ground shot thick, black stalks. They rose until they shattered the glass of the greenhouse above, effectively breaking the spell Demeter had placed upon the prison. From the stalks, silver vines twisted, filling the space, breaking the structure, flattening flowers, and destroying trees.
“What are you doing?” Demeter screamed over the sounds of bending metal and breaking glass.
“Freeing myself,” Persephone replied and vanished.
CHAPTER XXVI – A TOUCH OF HOME
Graduation came and went in a flurry of black robes, blue and white tassels, and parties. It was a bitter-sweet end. Persephone had never felt more proud as she walked across that stage…or more alone.
Lexa had been spending more time with Jaison, she hadn’t heard from her mother since she destroyed the greenhouse, and she hadn’t returned to Nevernight or the Underworld since she’d left Hades tangled in her vines.
Her only distraction was work. Persephone had started full-time at New Athens News as an investigative journalist the week after graduation. She arrived early and staying late, and when she had nothing left to do, she’d spend the evening deep in the Garden of the Gods practicing her magic.
She was getting better. The instinct to reach for her magic was stronger, and the things she grew no longer resembled dead vines. She was happy with her progress, and she found herself wishing she could share it with Hecate.