the mortals I have sworn to protect. I would tear down the sky if it would save you and our daughter.”
“There’s my feral wife.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. “Now go.”
She steadied herself and walked out to the door where Hermes waited. At least he had the kindness to look a little melancholy for her sake.
“Ready?” Hermes asked.
“Never.”
He held out his arms and she let him gather her up. The wings on his shoes fluttered. They burst into flight and headed toward the nearest portal, while Persephone stared over his shoulder and kept her eyes open until they watered. She wanted one more sight of the Underworld. One last memory to get her through the next six months.
The mortal realm had lost its luster now that she knew what was waiting for her. Hermes set her down in the wheat fields and scrubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”
“Are you suddenly feeling guilty, Hermes?” she asked.
“Look. All the Olympians have a mommy complex, that’s all I’m saying. There’s something wrong about taking a child away from its mother.” He frowned. “Or maybe it’s taking a mother away from her child. Either way. It doesn’t feel good to be doing this.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She glanced back at the golden temple her mother had built in her absence. “But it is the way of my life and the punishment I must bear. I release you from your guilt, Hermes. You’re just doing what you’re told.”
When he didn’t respond, she assumed he’d already flown away. But Persephone turned back and saw he was still standing there staring at her.
He let his hands fall limp at his sides, and even the wings at his ankles seemed to droop. “Maybe I don’t want to do what I’m told anymore,” he whispered, his voice carrying on the wind.
“I wish that was an option for either of us, but we both know it isn’t. Life as an Olympian is about making choices that satisfy the needs of others.” And even if either of them wanted to get out of this life, they couldn’t. That was the brutality of being an immortal.
Everlasting life devoted to everyone but themselves.
She strode through the fields and touched the tops of the wheat with her fingers. They eased a little of the torment in her soul, although it still felt as though something was horribly wrong. She’d left a piece of herself in the Underworld.
Melinoe’s birth had turned her into a woman. A mother. Another stage of life where she had needed the time away from her mother to become this version of herself. And her mother, the harvest goddess who was known as a speaker for all mothers, wouldn’t allow her to do that.
Because she needed to look like the maiden goddess.
She strode into the temple where Demeter was already waiting. Her mother stood with her arms outstretched, all show even though there was no one here to see them. “My daughter! How you have been missed.”
Persephone hugged her mother because she had missed her. No matter how difficult Demeter could be, Persephone had still wanted her there during the birth. She had wished her mother could have held her hand and answered her questions. Demeter had given birth. She knew this stage of womanhood and yet, she would never have set foot in the Underworld.
“Hello, Mother,” she said.
“I trust you are well?”
“I am healed, if that’s what you’re asking.” She leaned back and spread her arms wide so Demeter could look her up and down. “The powers of a goddess. It’s like the birth never happened.”
“Good.” Demeter eyed her critically. “I’d prefer it if the mortals didn’t know the child is alive. They need you to remain the virgin goddess.”
“The child?” She frowned and tried very hard to give her mother the benefit of the doubt. “You mean your granddaughter?”
Demeter waved a hand in the air. “Yes, yes, granddaughter. I heard. Hermes was helpful while he was telling me what you had gotten up to. You certainly keep yourself busy, my dear.”
How could her mother not care that she had a grandchild? That a little girl had been born into their family?
“Do you not even want to meet her?” she asked. Sure, Melinoë looked nothing like Demeter, and she was obviously a child of the Underworld, but that didn’t mean she was unloveable. Demeter was her grandmother, for Olympus’ sake!
Demeter sighed. “My dear. There is very little in this world that