A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,113
end your humiliation,” Persephone said. “Just…apologize.”
Those words were like declaring war.
“Never.” The word left Demeter’s lips in a shuddering breath.
A shockwave of Demeter’s power rushed through the throne room as the goddess attempted to rise. The surge in strength took Persephone off-guard for a moment, her own magic rushing forward to quash it. She glanced at Hades, she could feel his power all around, lapping at the edge of her own, lying in wait.
Persephone stood and ascended the few steps that separated her from her mother. As she approached, the floor beneath Demeter continued to crack and crumble. Finally, she relented, her power waned, and she glared up at her daughter.
“I see you have learned a little control, daughter.”
Persephone might have smiled, but she found that when she looked at her mother, all she felt was resentment. It was like a curse, working through her body, coating everything in darkness.
“All you’ve ever had to do was say you were sorry,” Persephone said fiercely. She realized they were no longer talking about Leuce. “We could have had each other.”
“Not when you’re with him,” she spat.
Persephone stared at her mother for a moment, and then said, “I feel sorry for you. You would rather be alone than accept something you fear.”
Demeter scowled at her daughter.
“You’re giving up everything for him.”
“No, mother, Hades is just one of many things I gained when I left your prison.”
She released Demeter from her magic, but the goddess shook visibly and did not rise to her feet.
“Look upon me once more, mother, because you will never see me again.”
Persephone expected to see fury in her mother’s eyes. Instead, they gleamed with pride and an unsettling smile curled her lips.
“My flower...you are more like me than you realize.”
Persephone closed her fingers into a fist and Demeter vanished.
There a beat of silence in the aftermath before Leuce hurried forward and embraced her.
“Thank you, Persephone.”
When the nymph pulled away, Persephone smiled, maintaining her composure. On the inside, she was trembling. The look on her mother’s face was one she knew well.
War was coming.
***
Persephone was anxious as she approached the hospital. It had been a few days since she had visited Lexa. Most of that was because Lexa was still struggling with delirium—or rather, what the doctors were calling delirium. Persephone knew the truth of her psychosis. Her soul was struggling to understand what it was doing in the Upperworld.
Guilt made Persephone feel nauseous.
She’d been selfish. She knew that now—but the realization came too late.
Persephone headed to the fourth floor—the general ward where Lexa had been moved after being taken off the ventilator—and caught Eliska leaving Lexa’s room.
“Oh, Persephone. I’m glad you’re here. I was just going to get some coffee. Want anything?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Sideris.”
She glanced back at the room. “She’s having a good day,” Eliska said. “Go ahead, I’ll be right back.”
Persephone entered the room. The television was on and the curtains were drawn. Lexa sat up in bed, but she looked boneless. Her shoulders sagged, and her head lulled to the side. It was almost as if she were asleep, but her eyes were open and she seemed to be staring at the wall.
“Hey,” Persephone said quietly, she took a seat near Lexa’s bed. “How are you doing?”
Lexa stared.
And stared.
And stared.
“Lex?” Persephone brushed Lexa’s hand and she jerked, but the touch had gotten her attention. Except now that Lexa was looking at her, she felt...unsettled. The woman had the body and face of her best friend, but the eyes didn’t belong.
These eyes were vacant, lackluster, lifeless.
She had the feeling that she’d just touched a stranger.
“Is this Tartarus?” Lexa asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if it has rusted from disuse.
Persephone’s brows knitted together. “What?”
“Is this my punishment?”
Persephone didn’t understand. How could she think her eternal sentence would be Tartarus?
“Lexa, this is the Upperworld. You—you came back.”
She watched as Lexa close her eyes and when she opened them again, Persephone felt like she was looking at her best friend for the first time since she’d awoken.
“You spend all your time in the Underworld and yet know nothing about death,” Lexa was silent for a moment. “I felt...peace.”
She exhaled, as if the word brought pleasure, and continued.
“My body clings to the ease of death, searches for its simplicity. Instead, I am forced to exist in a distressed and complicated world. I cannot keep up. I don’t want to keep up.”
Lexa looked in Persephone’s direction.
“Death wouldn’t have changed anything for us, Seph,” Lexa whispered. “Being back? That changes everything.”