of Life. How could a daughter of spring become death’s bride?
“Ever suspicious, Hades,” Clotho said, appearing out of thin air. The youngest of the three Fates, she looked no different than Lachesis, clothed and crowned in gold. “Perhaps we wish to reward our favorite god.”
“You like no gods,” Hades replied.
“We dislike you least.”
“Flattered,” he snapped.
“If you are displeased, we will unweave the thread,” Atropos said, appearing before Hades and snatching the book from his hands. She was the oldest and still looked no different than her sisters, dressed in blood-red, a pair of abhorrent, gold shears hung from a chain around her neck.
Hades glared at the three of them.
“I know you well, Morai,” he said, addressing all of them at once. “Who are you punishing?”
They exchanged a look. Finally, Clotho answered, “Demeter begged for a daughter.”
“A wish that was granted,” Lachesis said.
“You are the price she paid,” Atropos added.
“I am punishment,” Hades stated.
The Fates were aware of Demeter’s hatred for Hades. He had been right when he suspected a trick.
“If that is how you prefer to perceive it,” Clotho said.
“But we like to think of it differently,” Lachesis said.
“It is the price paid for our favor,” Atropos explained.
It was how the Fates worked, and the gods were not immune.
“Demeter is aware?” Hades asked.
“Of course. We are not in the habit of keeping secrets, Lord Hades.”
Hades grew quiet. If Demeter was aware, no wonder he had never heard about the Goddess of Spring.
“You think to punish Demeter, but you are really punishing Persephone,” Hades said.
The irony was not lost on him, because he had done the same thing to her. She was bound via their bargain—the greatest bargain he had ever made, because in the end, she did not have to love him. Thousands of mortals and Divine alike had destinies woven by the Fates. It did not guarantee a love match, and one between him and Demeter’s daughter was even less likely.
Lachesis narrowed her eyes. “Are you afraid, Hades?”
The god glared, and the three Fates laughed.
“We may weave the Threads of Fate, my lord, but you retain control over how your future unfolds.” Clotho vanished.
“Will you rule your relationship as you rule your kingdom?” Lachesis disappeared.
“Or revel in the chaos?” Atropos faded.
And when he was alone, their merry laughter echoed around him.
Haven’t you ever been in love?
The mortal’s words returned to him, burrowing under his skin like a parasite.
No, he had never been in love, and now he would always wonder… Would Persephone have chosen him if given the freedom?
***
Hades left the Fates’ mansion and found himself outside Hecate’s cottage. The Goddess of Witchcraft was a long-time resident of the Underworld. Hades had allowed her to settle wherever she wished, and she had chosen a dark valley to build her vine-covered cottage. After, she spent months cultivating a wealth of poisonous nightshade.
Hades had merely raised a brow when he had discovered what she had done.
“Do not pretend as though my poisons have not been useful, Hades.”
“I have had no such thoughts,” he had replied.
Hades smirked at the memory. Since then, Hecate had become his confidant, probably his closest friend.
She was outside, standing beneath a patch of moonlight that streamed through an opening in the canopy of trees. Early on, the goddess had praised his ability to create what she referred to as an enchanted night, but it was hardly surprising. Hades was a god born of darkness. It was what he knew best.
“What troubles you, my king?” she asked as he approached. “Is it Minthe? May I suggest lye to remedy the situation? It is quite painful when swallowed.”
Hades raised a brow. “Murderous thoughts already, Hecate? It isn’t even noon yet.”
She smiled. “I am more creative at night.”
Hades chuckled, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Hades, lost in his own thoughts. Hecate, staring at the moon. After a moment, she asked him again, “What troubles you?”
“The Fates,” he said.
“Oh, the besties. What have they done?”
“They have given me a wife,” he said, raising both his brows. “Demeter’s daughter.”
Hecate laughed and quickly covered her mouth with her hand at Hades’ arched glance.
“S-Sorry,” she said, and cleared her throat, composing herself. “Is she horrible?”
“No,” Hades said. “That’s probably the worst part. She is beautiful.”
“Then why are you so glum?”
Hades explained the trajectory of his evening in as few words as possible—Aphrodite’s bargain, seeing Persephone for the first time, realizing his primal reaction to claim her was unusual, and uncovering the thread that connected them.