shuffling a few feet away. She turned back to Hades and argued.
“She would welcome you. She loves you.”
“She loved me,” Hades said.
“Do you want me to call you an idiot again?”
Hades glared.
“At least she told you she loved you,” Hecate said, hands on her hips. “She still hasn’t heard those words from you.”
He frowned and felt ashamed. Hecate was right, he should have told her he loved her the moment he realized it. All this time, he had gone on about how she was his goddess and queen, and he had not even managed to say the three words that would illustrate the truth of how he felt because he feared her rejection.
Persephone’s attention turned from them as Lexa’s name was called. She cheered for her best friend as she walked across the stage, and the two embraced before they returned to their seats. Despite his painful thoughts, Hades found himself smiling as he watched her continue living.
He had few regrets in his long life, but one of them would always be never telling her how much he loved her.
***
Hecate flung open the door to Hades’ chambers. It was noon, and he was still in bed, exhausted from a night of bitter bargains at Nevernight.
“Get up!” she said, and threw open the curtains, letting in daylight. Hades groaned and rolled over, covering his head.
“Go away, Hecate.”
There was a pause, and then his blanket was torn away.
“Hecate!” Hades sat up, frustrated.
“Why are you naked?” she demanded, as if she had just seen something horrifying.
“Because,” he said, gesturing to his room, “I’m in bed!”
She tossed the blanket back to him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“We’re going to get Persephone,” she said. “Well, you’re going to get her. I’m going to help.”
“We’ve been through this, Hecate—”
“Shut up,” she snapped. “I miss her, the souls miss her, you miss her. Why are we spending all this time missing her when we can just…get her back?”
Hades laughed, mostly from disbelief. “If it were that easy—”
“It is that easy!” Hecate threw up her hands, frustrated. “You’ve spent all this time waiting for the Fates to take her away, but they didn’t. You did.”
“She left, Hecate. Not me.”
“So? It doesn’t mean you cannot go get her. It doesn’t mean you can’t still tell her you love her. It doesn’t mean you can’t still fight for her. You’re the one who always talks about actions. Why don’t you live by your words?”
“Fine,” Hades gritted out. “We’ll go, and then you’ll see once and for all that she does not want me.”
He threw off the blanket Hecate had thrown back at him.
“For Fates’ sake, put some clothes on!” she snapped.
“If you did not wish to see me naked, Hecate, then you should have come to me when I was not in bed.”
“Forgive me for assuming you’d be clothed,” she snapped, rolling her eyes.
Hades sighed, frustrated as he disappeared into the bathroom, splashing water on his face. He was tired. He had not slept well since Persephone had left, and his mood had changed. He was quick tempered, fighting more with everyone, even Hecate. It had to stop, and maybe this would put an end to it, or make it all worse.
He glamoured up and returned to his room, where Hecate waited.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “We should make this a bet. If she runs into your arms like I think she will, then I require more room for my pois—plants. For my plants.”
Hades raised a brow. “Fine. You want a bargain?” he said. “If I win, then I never want to hear another word about Persephone again.”
Hecate rolled her eyes. “Deal,” she said, then added, “For someone who can taste lies, you sure spout a lot of them. You had better get ready to give up a fourth of your realm, lover boy.”
***
Hades paced the length of his chamber, waiting for Hecate to give him the signal—a burst of magic she would send when she located his goddess. He had not been able to concentrate since she left. As much as he hated to admit it, Hecate had given him hope.
He paused, frowning at himself in the mirror, realizing for the first time just how much Persephone had changed him. She had made him want things he’d never wanted before, like a life that offered a little more simplicity. He wanted walks and picnics and burnt cookies. He wanted to laugh and to never go to bed alone again.
This was the first time in his