the page.
“It seems your precious Persephone has betrayed you,” Minthe was saying, but her voice sounded far away. He was too focused on the words his goddess had written to pay attention.
In my short encounter with the God of the Underworld, he can best be described as tense. He is cold and boorish, his eyes colorless chasms of judgement set within a callous face. He lurks in the shadows of his club, preying upon the vulnerable.
Hades felt a rush of embarrassment and shame and anger, and for a moment, all he could think was, So this is what she truly thinks of me? And yet he could not reconcile how she had acted in the library the night before, the way she had leaned into him, the way she had parted her lips, ready for his own. He had felt her passion just as acutely as he felt his own.
Could these really be her thoughts? Her words? Was she trying to cage her heart?
He continued reading.
Hades says the rules of Nevernight are clear. Lose against him, and you are obligated to fulfill a contract, one that exposes his debtors to shame, and while he has claimed success, he has yet to name a single soul who has benefited from his so-called charity.
So-called charity.
He gritted his teeth; he was plenty charitable.
How is she supposed to know? I haven’t told her, he countered.
“I will visit Demetri today. Persephone will never write again,” Minthe said.
It was the usual avenue. Anyone who photographed or wrote about Hades usually found themselves out of a job and unable to be hired. No one wanted to incur the wrath of Hades, and despite how this article made him feel, he could not take away Persephone’s dream.
“No,” Hades said, and the word was harsh, a mix of alarm and frustration.
Minthe’s eyes widened. “But…this is defamation!”
“Persephone is mine to punish, Minthe.”
The nymph’s brows narrowed harshly over her burning eyes. “And what is your idea of punishment? Fucking her until she begs for release?”
“Fuck you, Minthe.”
“This isn’t you,” she argued. “If it were any other mortal, you would let me do my job!”
“She is no mortal,” Hades snapped. “She is to be my wife, and you will treat her as such.”
Silence followed, and after a moment, Minthe spoke, her voice shaking.
“Your wife?”
“Your queen,” Hades said.
Minthe’s jaw tensed. “When were you going to tell me?”
“You act as if I owe you an explanation.”
“Don’t you? We were lovers!”
“For a night, Minthe, nothing more.”
She stared at him, eyes glistening. “Is it because she is a goddess?”
“If you are asking me why not you, it was never you, Minthe.”
The words were harsh but they were true, and he hoped they hit home. He would see that she respected Persephone as her queen, or he would dismiss her.
The nymph lingered for a few seconds longer before turning on her heels and running from the stables.
***
“I’m disappointed in you,” Hecate said.
The two stood in the shadows outside Dolphin & Co. Shipbuilding. It was a company owned by Poseidon, and because it was owned by a god, it had the monopoly on ship and boat building in New Greece. It helped that Poseidon claimed his ships were unsinkable, a promise many believed because he was God of the Sea. His dockyard spanned for miles, employing thousands of mortals and immortals who built yachts, cargo ships, and wartime vessels, the latter being a type of ship Zeus has ordered Poseidon to cease building after The Great War. Hades doubted Poseidon had listened.
It was here where Sisyphus had agreed to meet Poseidon under the guise that the god would help him escape Hades’ wrath, a ruse that was not implausible. Hades did not trust Poseidon. He was well-aware that the god had fulfilled his part of the bargain—luring Sisyphus. Beyond that, he was not obligated to help Hades captured the mortal.
“Why this time?” he asked, responding to Hecate’s earlier comment.
“I told you I wanted to be present when you told Minthe you were to be married.”
Hades glanced at the goddess, raising a brow. She was cloaked in black velvet, as was her nature when she came to the Upperworld. She preferred to blend with the darkness. He had asked her to accompany him on this trip to handle the spindle. Ilias had not been able to track how Poseidon had come into possession of it, so Hecate would have to perform a trace on the object.
That was the problem with relics—there was so much to clean up in their