god, brother. Or have you forgotten how easy it is for us to kill each other?”
Zeus took a gigantic step away from them. He cleared his throat, once, twice, then replied, “You weren’t invited.”
“I never am.”
“You always ruin the mood,” Zeus repeated, muttering as he grabbed a goblet of nectar from the table. “This is why I don’t invite you.”
Hades leaned down and murmured in her ear, “How about we get out of here?”
“I’d like nothing more,” she breathed.
They raced away to the gardens where they had first met. She could still see the way he’d sat on the bench with stars in his eyes and hope in his heart. He had been so kind when none of the others had been capable of that emotion.
He held a finger to his lips, and they snuck through the garden, past a couple nymphs wrapped around Apollo, and farther into the forest beyond. The thick limbs of the trees covered them from the gaze of the stars, and the moss softened their footsteps.
Hades turned back to her and his eyes burned with lust. He reached out a single finger and traced it down the line of her neck. She tilted for him immediately, giving him whatever freedom he wanted with her body.
His finger caught the edge of peplos, hooking the thin fabric and drawing it down over her shoulder. It gave to his whims, sliding over her chest, her hips, her thighs, pooling at her feet and baring her to his gaze.
He reached for her then, warm callouses sliding over her skin like the roughness of bark. Hades settled her onto the moss gently. He pressed his lips against the racing beat at her neck and whispered, “I missed you. Oh, how I have missed you, love of my life.”
She had no energy to do anything other than moan.
The stars were blind to what happened in the garden that night. She arched underneath his touch, watching the leaves above her head unfurl and blooms appear. And when she felt that tension build until she couldn’t take it anymore, the flowers burst open and rained glittering pollen over their entwined bodies.
Hades shifted, holding himself up above her, and his skin looked like a galaxy. Stars made of pollen covered him from head to toe.
With a wry grin, he kissed her again, lingering this time on her lips. As though he was trying to remember their taste, their texture, how she clung to him even as he leaned away.
“I have to go,” he said with a sigh.
“I know,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know and I cannot bear it.”
“Neither can I.” He touched a hand to her cheek. “Soon, my love. Soon you will return to me.”
And then he melted away, as though he’d never been there to begin with. Persephone rolled up, reached for her peplos and pulled it over her suddenly chilled skin. Goosebumps decorated her arms and legs, but for the first time in a very long time, she felt whole again.
Chapter 38
She tugged hard on the hem of her peplos, ensuring everything was exactly as it should be.
Today was the day.
Finally, after what felt like years with her mother, she was going home. She didn’t know how to process the excitement that made her palms sweat and her heart thud hard in her chest.
What would happen when she returned? She was certain some people would not be excited to see her. Minthe would certainly glare daggers. But she was excited to see more than just Hades, although that was namely on her mind.
She’d missed Cerberus, Hecate, Thanatos, even Charon’s sly grins and the jokes he told her. Every single person in the Underworld made her feel like she mattered. Like she was more than the daughter of a great goddess who the mortals revered.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she already knew who it was.
Sighing, she turned toward the door and said, “Come in.”
As expected, Demeter stepped through and approached her with her arms outstretched. “I wish you didn’t have to go, my dear.”
She accepted the hug, but didn’t squeeze too hard. “I know the deal we made, mother. Six months and I’ll be back.”
“Six months is too long. I’ll miss you every single day.”
“Mother.” Persephone leaned back and gave her mother a censoring gaze. “Don’t take it out on the mortals. Remember? That’s what we said. The harvest will go well, and I’ll return in six more months.”