The Passion of Hades - Eliza Raine Page 0,53

leaves and flowers following fast. Grass rose from the churning soil at the base, daisies sprouting amid the green turf. Pink petals began to dominate the sweeping branches as they extended over the table, and I could almost feel a phantom breeze ripple past me and through them.

Life. Color. Light.

I had longed for this tree for twenty-six years.

Her vines went slack suddenly, and she stumbled as they disintegrated. I flashed to her as her knees gave out, scooping her up and setting her down in one of the two chairs at the table. Always laid for two but never used. She took a shuddering breath as she looked up into my face and my heart swelled with so much hope and love that it actually rivaled the size of the dark pit of power in my gut.

I would never let her go again. I couldn't. She was light and life and love, and she was mine.

Twenty-Four

Persephone

'W-what did I just do,' I stammered, staring up into Hades' intense silver eyes. He had an almost awestruck look on his face which was making me nervous, although I was too thoroughly drained for my body to react to my nerves. I could barely hold my own head up. I didn't feel like I was going to pass out though, which was something.

'You channeled your rage into earth magic. You regrew a tree that you used to keep alive here,' Hades said softly, and crouched in front of the chair he had put me in so that our eyes were level. I slowly tipped my head backwards and looked up. A pink blossom petal wafted down from the overhanging branches and landed on my wet hair. 'You used to laugh when they fell in your soup,' Hades said, his deep voice filled with emotion. I looked back at him.

'We ate in here?' He nodded. 'I knew I felt something about these chairs when I first saw them,' I muttered.

'You had them made for us. You said that there should be a place in my kingdom where I didn't have to be a king, so you made the chairs to show our powers equally. To share my burden.'

The intensity in his voice was almost too much to bear.

'Sounds like I was a pretty good wife,' I smiled, attempting to lessen the sadness. His face relaxed slightly.

'Now don't go getting an inflated opinion of yourself,' he grinned, rocking back on his heels. 'You'll start sounding like the other gods.'

His words wiped the smile from my face and he winced.

'I'm sorry. I know you must hate us all right now.'

'Hate doesn't come close,' I growled, but my burning rage from before was spent. 'Although I don't think I'm actually able to hate you. Something won't let me,' I told him.

'Even though you've just seen what my realm is made of, and it tried to kill you?'

'I don't want to live here, if that's what you're asking,' I half snorted. 'But I don't hold you responsible. I know you didn't choose to put me through this.'

'You did great, if it's any consolation. Underworld sewage is highly toxic, you would never have survived without controlling your black vines.'

'How did I change them from black to green?' I asked him. He cocked his head slightly.

'I don't know,' he admitted eventually. 'Before, if you got angry your power was all rage. This time though, I could feel your earth magic trying to get through.'

Hope and something that might have been excitement prickled inside me.

'So I might have better control of my angry power than before?' Did that mean it was safe to eat another seed?

'No god ever has full control over true wrath,' he said slowly. 'I don't know how you grew the tree. But you did.'

Nor did I. I had been ready to explode, the fury poisoning me from the inside out. But when Hades had stamped on the platform, my vines had taken over and the delicious feeling of thriving life had flooded my body, flushing the hate from my system.

'Do you have anything to drink?' I asked Hades. 'I kind of had my face filled with sewage. The aftertaste is pretty unpleasant.'

'Of course,' he said, leaping to his feet. I moved myself slowly, until I was sitting up in the chair. I gazed at the intricate detail on the arms and wondered how the hell I'd ever come up with something like this. But the more I looked, the more familiar it felt. The shape of the roses,