A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,47
come from his cock. When he kissed her, he would taste himself.
Those thoughts filled her with fire, and Hades demanded, “Now, where are you warm?”
“Everywhere,” she answered.
“Imagine all that warmth in your hands,” he spoke faster. “Imagine it glowing, imagine it so bright you can barely look at it.”
She did as he instructed, focusing intently on the heat rushing to her hands. It was easier because she could feel the weight of Hades’ on hers. They grounded her.
“Now imagine the light has dimmed, and in the shadow, you see the life you have created.” Hades lips touched her ear as he whispered, “Open your eyes, Persephone.”
When she did, a shimmering white image of the periwinkle and phlox she had envisioned manifested between her hands.
It was beautiful.
Hades guided her hands to the barren earth, and as the magic touched the ground, it transformed into flowers.
Persephone touched one of the silky petals, just to be sure it was real.
“Magic is balance—a little control, a little passion. It is the way of the world.”
She tilted her head toward him but could not see him fully. His beard scraped her cheek. The silence stretched between them, and every bit of her skin felt like an exposed nerve. Finally, she twisted, coming to her knees. His eyes were fierce, and his nostrils flared.
“I love you—I should have reminded you when I brought you here and each day since,” Hades said. “Please forgive me.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes. “I forgive you—but only if you’ll forgive me. I was angry about Leuce, but angrier that you left me that evening to go to her,” she said, the words hurt, like she couldn’t take in enough air to speak them. “And I feel so…ridiculous. I know your reasons and I know you didn’t want to leave me that evening, but I can’t help how I feel about it. When I think about it, I feel…hurt.”
Maybe it had something to do with all the emotion she had invested in that moment in the dining room. It was all so…intense, and the aftermath left her feeling unfulfilled, neglected.
“It pains me to know I hurt you. What can I do?”
She was surprised by that question. “I…don’t know. I suppose what I have done must make up for it. I told you I wouldn’t write about Apollo—I promised you—and broke that promise.”
Hades shook his head. “We do not make up for hurt with hurt, Persephone. That is a god’s game—we are lovers.”
“Then how do we make up for hurt?” she asked.
“With time,” he answered. “If we can be comfortable being angry with one another for a little while.”
Persephone frowned, and the tears she thought had all dried up came again as she whispered, “I don’t want to be angry with you.”
“Neither do I,” he said, reaching to brush the tears away. “But it doesn’t change feelings and it doesn’t mean we can’t care for each other while we heal.”
Persephone stared at Hades and started to shake her head. “How is it that I was meant for you?”
He didn’t sound angry, but she also knew this discussion had come up before and it hadn’t gone all that well, so she explained.
“I just feel so…inexperienced. I am young and rash and how could you want me?”
She choked on the words and covered her mouth to smother the emotion.
“Persephone,” Hades said gently, he covered her hand with his. “First, I will always want you. Always. I failed you here, too. I was angry, I didn’t take care of you, I didn’t include you. Don’t put me on a pedestal because you feel guilty for your decisions. Just…forgive yourself so you can forgive me. Please.”
She took a breath and bit her lip. Hades’ eyes fell to her mouth. Everything inside her was suddenly fire.
He was right. He hadn’t taken care of her and that’s what she’d craved. Despite their shared anger, she’d wanted him—his heat, his violence, his love.
She closed the distance between them, straddling him as they sat on the ground beneath the silver trees. Hades’ hands settled on her hips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her gaze was level with his, and his dark eyes reached deep. She knew he could see clear to her soul. “I love you. You can trust me, my word. I—”
“Shh, my darling,” he said, his mouth was inches from hers, his hands trailed up her thighs, and beneath her dress. Her stomach tightening with anticipation.