you mean that’s it? Having the man behind the myth of Hades at her beck and call a few times a year is going to increase her perceived power exponentially. Even if you’re not her ally, people will think you are. It’s a big deal.”
He carefully moves the puppies and pushes to his feet, tugging me up with him. “It’s a small price to pay.”
“Are you sure? Because if you have any doubts at all—”
“Persephone.” Hades cups my face. “Little siren. Do you think there’s a price I wouldn’t willingly pay for your happiness and safety? For your freedom? Demeter could have asked for a lot more than she did.”
My throat goes tight. “Don’t tell her that.”
“I won’t.” He smiles down at me. “Tell me again.”
There’s no mistaking his meaning. I run my hands up his chest and loop my arms around his neck. “I love you.”
His lips brush my ear. “Again.”
“I love you.”
I feel his lips curve against my skin. “I love you, too, little siren.”
“This is probably an inopportune time to make a joke, huh?”
His hands fall to my waist and he pulls me closer, wrapping me up in his steady warmth. “Since when have you let that stop you?”
I laugh. It starts out a little ragged and then evolves into a sound of pure joy. “You’re right.” I wiggle a little against him. I can barely believe that it’s over. Or not over, but just beginning. It feels like it’s too good to be true, and I can’t stop touching him, reassuring myself that he’s here, that this is happening. “In that case, I have a question.”
“Uh-huh.” He pulls back enough that I can see him grinning. “Ask.”
“Do you love me more than you love your precious floors?”
He laughs. A full-bodied sound that seems to fill the room around us. Hades lowers his head until his lips brush mine. “I most definitely love you more than my precious floors. But I’m going to insist you refrain from bleeding on them in the future.”
“I make no promises.”
“No, I don’t expect you do.” He kisses me. It’s been less than a day since I last had his mouth on mine, but it feels like so much longer. I cling to him and eagerly open to take the kiss deeper, losing myself in the feel of him, the perfection of this moment.
At least until he lifts his head a few seconds later. “If we don’t stop, we’re going to be late for the press conference.”
“They can fuck off.”
He gives that delicious laugh again. “Persephone, I heartily do not want to be on your mother’s shit list again, especially over something preventable.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. I tangle my fingers in his hair and give a little tug. “Promise me that tonight we’ll lock the doors, turn off our phones, and spray Hermes repellent. I want you all to myself.”
“You have yourself a bargain.”
At that, we reluctantly separate. I still have most of my things here, so I do my best to cover up Hades’s bruises, and dark sunglasses do the rest. He wears a black-on-black suit and looks like a villain venturing out during the twilight hours. We hold hands the entire drive to the press conference.
The rest of the Thirteen and their families are gathered in one of the courtyards surrounding Dodona Tower, all dressed to perfection. Zeus’s three children who remain in Olympus are all dressed in black, their expressions carefully blank. My sisters stand behind my mother. I give Hades’s hand one last squeeze before I start to head in their direction. He tightens his grip on my hand. “Stay.”
“What?” I look around. “But—”
“Be mine, Persephone. Let me be yours. In public and in private.”
I stare up at him, and really, there’s only one answer and it flutters in my chest like a trapped bird. “Yes.”
I don’t know what I expect. A confrontation. Accusations maybe. Instead, Hades slips seamlessly into their ranks as the reporters appear and Poseidon steps forward to give an official statement to declare Perseus as the new Zeus. People care less about answers than they do about perception, and that works in our favor right now. It doesn’t hurt that the reporters are so intensely focused on Hades, either.
Through it all, Hades’s expression is as relaxed as if he attends press conferences regularly. The only sign that he’s anything less than comfortable is the intense grip he keeps on my hand, down where no one can see. As we begin to disperse,