A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,84
tears. As she hit the floor, the thorns bursting from her skin were jarred and she cried out in pain.
“Oh, my love,” Persephone felt Hecate’s hand on her back. She didn’t look at the goddess, sobbing into her blood-covered hands.
“I messed up, Hecate.”
“Shh,” the goddess soothed. “Come, on your feet.”
Hecate lifted Persephone, careful to avoid touching the thorns sprouting from her body and teleported to her cabin. She sat Persephone down, placed her hands over the thorns that had broken her skin, and began to chant. Warmth emanated from her palms. Persephone watched as the barbs began to grow smaller until nothing of the malady was visible. When the wounds were healed, Hecate cleaned the blood away and sat down opposite Persephone.
“What happened?”
Persephone burst into tears again, guilt and agony warring in her mind. She told Hecate everything—the conversation she’d overheard about taking Lexa off life support, her mother’s visit, and her trek to the Pleasure District.
“When it came down to losing her...I couldn’t.” She choked on a sob. Hecate reached out and covered Persephone’s hand with hers. “And my mother just made it all worse. There may not be consequences for gods but there are consequences for me.”
“There are always consequences. The difference between you and other gods, is that you care about them.”
Persephone was silent for a moment and then repeated what Hades had told her. “I have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death," she paused. "I just wanted her with me.”
“Why do you hold onto the mortal realm?”
Persephone looked at Hecate. "Because it is where I belong.”
“Is it?" she asked. "What about the Underworld?”
When Persephone didn’t respond, Hecate shook her head.
“My dear, you are trying to be someone you’re not.”
“What do you mean? All I have been trying to do is be myself.”
And that had been more difficult than she could ever imagine.
“Are you?” she asked. “Because the person who sits before me now does not match the one I see beneath.”
“And who do you see beneath?” she asked, her voice verging on sarcasm.
“The Goddess of Spring,” she answered. “Future Queen of the Underworld, wife of Hades.”
Those words made her shiver.
“You are holding onto a life that no longer serves you. A job that punishes you for your relationships, a friendship that could have blossomed in the Underworld, a mother who has taught you to be a prisoner.”
Persephone bristled at those words.
“And if you need any more evidence that you are denying yourself, look no further than the way your magic is manifesting. If you do not learn to love yourself, your powers will tear you apart.”
Persephone’s brows knitted together. “What are you saying, Hecate? That I should abandoned my life in the Upperworld?”
She shook her head. “You think in extremes,” Hecate said. “You are either a goddess or a mortal, you either live in the Underworld or the Upperworld. Do you not want it all, Persephone?”
“Yes,” she said, frustrated. “Of course, I want it all, but everyone keeps telling me I can’t!”
A slow smile crept across Hecate’s face. “Create the life you want, Persephone, and stop listening to everyone else.”
Persephone blinked, absorbing Hecate’s words.
Create the life you want.
Up until this point, she thought she knew what kind of life she wanted, but what she was realizing now, is that things had changed since meeting Hades. Despite her struggle to accept herself and understand her power, he had shifted something inside her. With him came new desires, new hopes, new dreams and there was no way to attain those without letting go of old ones.
She swallowed hard, her eyes watering.
“I messed up, Hecate,” she said.
“As we all do,” the goddess replied, standing. “And as we all will. Now let’s channel some of that pain and clean up the mess you made in the grove. Consider it practice.”
Persephone didn’t argue, finding that she was strangely motivated.
The two left Hecate’s cottage for the grove. Persephone knew when they were close because she could smell rotten fruit—a terrible mix of sugar and decay.
“The goal is to collect all the dead pieces and make them into ripe pomegranates,” Hecate said.
“How do I do that?”
“The same way you destroyed it—except you want to control how much power you use.”
Persephone wasn’t sure she could, but she remembered the time she spent with Hades and how he taught her to focus her power. That memory made her chest ache in a way she never thought possible.
Magic is balance—a little control, a little passion. It is the way of the world.