A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,55
fear. She couldn’t blame him. She had burst into his office without warning, on the heels of a day when she’d been in the news after being attacked. She took a long time to answer, so long that Hades tilted her head back so he could search her eyes, a frown pulled at his lips.
Does he already know what happened to Lexa, she wondered?
She tried to tell him, but her mouth quivered so badly, she had to pause and take several deep breaths. After a few minutes of this, Hades summoned wine. She gulped it like water. The bitter drink coated her tongue but helped her nerves.
“Start again,” Hades said. “What happened?”
The words came easier this time.
As she spoke, his expression melted from concern into a mask of indifference. It was a strategic move in poker—a way to deceive another player by concealing feelings. But this wasn’t a game, and Persephone knew deep down that it was just Hades way of preparing to tell her he couldn’t help.
“She doesn’t look like Lexa anymore, Hades.”
A loud sob escaped her throat. She covered her mouth, as if that might keep all her feelings inside.
“I’m so sorry, my darling,”
She twisted to face him in the plush chair.
“Hades,” his name was a shaky breath. “Please.”
He looked away, his jaw working to quell his frustration.
“Persephone, I can’t,” his tone was harder this time. She stood, needing distance. The god remained seated.
“I won’t lose her.”
“You haven’t,” Hades pointed out. “Lexa still lives.”
She wanted to argue, but Hades didn’t let her.
“You must give her soul time to decide.”
“Decide? What do you mean?”
Hades sighed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he dreaded the coming conversation.
“Lexa’s in limbo.”
“Then you can bring her back.”
Persephone had heard of limbo before. Hades had brought a soul back from there for a grieving mother. Hope blossomed in her chest, and it was like Hades could sense it because he dashed it quickly.
“I can’t.”
“You did it before. You said when a soul is in limbo, you can bargain with the Fates to bring them back.”
“In exchange for the life of another,” Hades reminded. “A soul for a soul, Persephone.”
“You can’t say you won’t save her, Hades.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to, Persephone. It is best that I do not interfere with this. Trust me. If you care for Lexa at all—if you care for me at all—you will drop this.”
“I’m doing this because I care!” she argued.
Hades scoffed. “That’s what all mortals think—but who are you really trying to save? Lexa or yourself?”
“I don’t need a philosophy lesson, Hades,” she gritted out.
“No, but apparently you need a reality check.”
He stood, shoving off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.
Persephone scowled.
“I’m not having sex with you right now.”
Hades glared at her but continued to unbutton his shirt. Then she saw black markings surfacing on his skin—they were all fine lines, tattoos that wrapped around his body like a delicate thread.
“What are they?” She started to reach out, but Hades’ stopped her with a firm hand clamped around her wrist. She met his gaze.
“It’s the price I pay for every life I’ve taken by bargaining with the Fates,” he said. “I carry them with me. These are their life-threads, burned into my skin. Is this what you want on your conscious, Persephone?”
Slowly, she pried her hand from his and brought it back to her chest, eyes following the lines on his golden skin. She remembered wondering how many bargains he’d made when they’d entered their own. She had no idea they were written into his skin. Still, she found this frustrating. Hades had spoken of balance before, but this had him chained. He was one of the most powerful Olympian Gods, and yet his power was limited.
“What good is being the God of the Dead if you can’t do anything?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could catch them. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Hades offered a gruff laugh. “You meant it,” he said, and placed his hand on the side of her face, forcing her gaze back to his. When she looked into his eyes, her heart felt like it was going to break into pieces. How was it this immortal god seemed to understand her sorrow? “I know you don’t want to understand why I can’t help, and that’s okay.”
“I just...don’t know what to do,” she said, and her shoulder sagged. She felt defeated.