Captured (Shadow Guild Hades & Persephone #3) - Linsey Hall Page 0,26

was right, of course. But I could feel that this would be okay.

“You don’t trust anything, do you?” I asked.

“No.” He hesitated. “I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Pain flashed on his face. “Perhaps I shouldn’t. But I do. I know you, Seraphia. You are good and kind. I can trust in that.”

My throat tightened, his words reaching into my chest and squeezing my heart. He was just worried for me, and he had no concept of what it was to have parents. Of how exciting this was. Though I hadn’t known mine, I’d had Nana and my aunt and uncle. I knew what it was to be loved like that and I wanted it back. That’s why I ran hellbent toward the temple.

He had no idea what that was like.

I reached up and touched his face, my heart twisting in my chest. “You have no idea what life is like on the other side if you gave up your horrible plan.”

“Death.”

“Love.” Could I love him?

Yes.

I could. Definitely. If he embraced the light and gave up the dark, yes.

“Love?” Confusion flickered on his face, then hunger. “Your love?”

“Maybe.”

He drew in a soft, unsteady breath.

The moment seemed to slow, the air tightening around us until we were in a cocoon.

But something closed over his face, and he stepped away. “Impossible. Your life is at stake.”

Damn it.

I sighed and turned from him, hurrying into the temple.

Immediately, warmth surrounded me. Though there were no fires burning, it felt warmer than the outside. Perhaps it was the torches that blazed along the walls, illuminating the temple in a golden glow.

The space itself was massive, the ceiling soaring several stories overhead. Columns bordered the huge room, and a gorgeous mosaic floor glittered in hundreds of shades of color. It was so beautiful that it hurt to look at it.

My footsteps echoed as I walked into the center of the temple, hope filling my chest. “Mother?”

There was only silence.

“Are you here?” I asked.

More silence.

I frowned, turning to Hades. “It feels empty. Are we in the right place?”

“Yes. I believe so.”

Disappointment seethed through me as I turned in a circle to search. She was nowhere to be found.

9

Hades

Seraphia’s brow creased, and sadness gleamed in her eyes. The sight made something twist in my chest. Discomfort.

She was disappointed, and I wanted to fix that.

Damn it. I was so close to my goal, yet every second with her made me fall prey to the emotion that had stalked me since I had met her. It was weakening me from within, bit by bit. Soon, I’d be nothing but her devoted slave.

I almost already was.

Disgusted, I turned from her, trying to resist the need to comfort her.

Focus on the task.

In the end, it would comfort her. We needed to find her mother so that she could grow strong enough to defeat Chronos with me. I would focus on that. The fact that it would also make her happy had no bearing on my enthusiasm to find Demeter.

Lies.

I ignored the thoughts and searched the temple. “There will be a clue here.”

“Of course.” Her voice was tight with tears, and I wanted to go to her. To hold her and banish the sadness from her voice.

Instead, I kept searching, making a point not to look at her. I could hear her moving around, though, clearly searching alongside me. She wasn’t giving up, no matter her devastation.

“Perhaps I still have to pass another test,” she murmured.

“Perhaps.” She’d already passed such a big one, though, using her magic in a way she’d never done before.

My gaze kept returning to the ornate floor at my feet. The tiny, gleaming stones shone in all colors of the rainbow, and they reminded me of the necklace that Seraphia had returned with after seeing the Oracle of Kamarina. Her aunt had also mentioned that the necklace could help her.

Did it have something to do with this mosaic? The stones in it were just like the gem she wore—tiny, brilliant jewels in a rainbow of colors.

Hopeful, I searched the ground for a clue. Perhaps a message.

Near the center of the room, I found it.

A missing tile.

From the look of the pattern around it, the tile should have been blue. Like Seraphia’s necklace.

“Seraphia? Will you come here?”

“What is it?” She hurried over, and I looked up to see bright hope on her face.

I pointed to the ground, and her eyes widened on the spot where the tile was missing.

“My necklace,” she murmured.

“Exactly.”

Quickly, she pulled the chain over her head and unclasped it, carefully