A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,75
she didn’t want to hear it.
She tried to gather her magic and teleport, knowing it was in vain—Hades was far more liberal in revoking any rights she had to leave the Underworld while he was angry.
And he was angry.
She could feel his frustration, it built between them, making the air tangible.
“You cannot just remove me from the Upperworld when you please!” she shouted at him.
“You are lucky I removed you and not the Furies.”
The tone of his voice deepened and put her on edge. Still, she wanted to fight.
“Send me back, Hades!”
“No.”
A searing pain erupted from Persephone’s shoulder, her side, and her calves as thorns sprouted from her skin. It brought her to her knees before Hades. The god rose from his throne, ignited completely by the red light. He looked horrified and deadly and moved toward her with predatory grace.
“Stop!” she commanded as he approached. “Don’t come any closer!”
She didn’t want him to see how bad her wounds really were.
Hades didn’t obey.
He knelt beside her.
“Fuck, Persephone. How long has your magic been manifesting like this?”
Persephone didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Don’t you ever listen?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I could ask the same of you.”
She ignored his comment, focusing on breathing through the pain of her injuries. Her magic had manifested like this on several occasions, but this was probably the worst case. Hades placed his hands on her shoulder, then her side, then her calves, healing the wounds. When he was finished, he sat back on his heels, blood covering his hands.
“How long have you kept this from me?”
“I’ve been a little distracted in case you haven’t noticed,” she said. “What do you want, Hades?”
Hades eyes flashed, and his concern for her quickly dissolved into anger.
“Your behavior toward Thanatos was atrocious. You will apologize.”
“Why should I?” she snapped. “He was going to take Lexa! Worse, he tried to hide it from me.”
“He was doing his job, Persephone.”
“Killing my friend isn’t a job! It’s murder!”
“You know it isn’t murder!” His voice was harsh. “Keeping her alive for your own benefit isn’t a kindness. She is in pain and you are prolonging it.”
She flinched but recovered. “No, you are prolonging it. You could heal her, but you have chosen not to help me.”
“You want me to bargain with the Fates so that she might survive? So you can have the death of another on your conscious? Murderer doesn’t suit you, goddess.”
She slapped him—or tried to, but Hades caught her wrist and pulled her against him, kissing her until she was subdued in his arms, until all she could do was cry.
“I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades,” she sobbed into his chest.
He took her face between his hands, attempting to brush her tears away.
“I know,” he answered. “But running from it won’t help, Persephone. You are just delaying the inevitable.”
“Hades, please. What if it were me?”
He released her so quickly, she almost lost her composure.
“I refuse to entertain such a thought.”
“You cannot tell me you wouldn’t break every Divine Law in existence for me.”
Persephone had noted the depth of Hades’ eyes before—as if there were thousands of lifetimes reflected within them, but it was nothing like what she saw now. There was a flash of malice—a moment where she swore she could see every violent thing he’d ever done. She didn’t doubt what he would go through to save her.
“Make no mistake, my lady, I would burn this world for you, but that is a burden I am willing to carry. Can you say the same?”
Something changed within Hades after her question and just as suddenly as he seemed to open all his wounds, they closed. His eyes dulled and his expression became passive.
“I will give you one more day to say goodbye to Lexa,” he said. “That is the only compromise I can offer. You should be thankful I’m offering that.”
The god vanished.
Alone in the throne room, Persephone expected to feel overwhelmed by the reality that within the next twenty-four hours, Lexa would be dead.
Instead, she felt a strange sense of determination.
Consequences for gods? She thought. There are none.
She rose to her feet and teleported to her apartment. Sybil reclined on the couch, her eyes going wide when Persephone appeared, bloodied and bruised from her magic.
The oracle sat up.
“Persephone, are you—”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I need your help. Where does Apollo hang out on Thursday nights?”
CHAPTER XVII - THE PLEASURE DISTRICT
Persephone navigated the narrow cobble streets of the Pleasure District, passing white-washed shops and brothels with names