“That will give you some time alone with her.”
“I’m not supposed to be here,” Lexa repeated as her mother left the room.
Persephone sat on the end of her bed.
“Lexa,” the goddess called her name. It took her a moment, but she finally lifted her head and met Persephone’s gaze.
“You don’t remember.”
Lexa’s eyes glistened with tears.
“I was happy,” she said.
“Yes, you were happy,” she said, hope ballooned in her chest. Maybe she was remembering. “The happiest person I knew, and you were in love.”
That gave Lexa pause and her brows knitted together. “No,” she shook her head. “I was happy in the Underworld.”
Persephone was stunned. That was the last thing she expected her to say.
“Why am I here?” Lexa asked again and again. “Why am I here? Why am I here? Why am I here?”
Her voice grew louder, and she started to rock, shaking the bed.
“Lexa, calm down.”
“Why am I here?” she screamed.
Persephone stood. “Lexa—”
The door to her room burst open and Eliska and two nurses hurried to subdue her. Lexa was screaming now—it was a sound she’d never heard her best friend make. She backed away from the scene until she reached the door, then fled.
Lexa’s cries followed Persephone until she entered the elevator.
She waited until the doors were closed to burst into tears.
“Are you happy with the results?”
Persephone whirled to face Apollo.
He was dressed in a grey suit and white button up shirt. His dark hair a perfect mess of curls. He looked beautiful and cold all at the same time.
“You!” Persephone advanced on him. Apollo lifted a sharp brow and didn’t move. She hated that he seemed so unafraid of her. “You said you’d heal her!”
“I did heal her. Obviously. She’s awake.”
“I don’t know who that person is, but it isn’t Lexa!”
Apollo shrugged, and his dismissal angered Persephone so much, vines began to sprout from her skin. She didn’t even feel the pain.
Apollo looked disgusted. “Get a hold on your anger. You’re making a mess.”
“The deal is off, Apollo.”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” he said, suddenly seeming far taller and imposing than before as he straightened and uncrossed his arms. “You asked me to heal her and I did. What you failed to realize, is that it wasn’t just her body that was broken, her soul was, too, and that, I’m afraid, is your lover’s wheelhouse, not mine.”
It was like she was being told Lexa was going to die all over again.
She didn’t know a lot about souls, didn’t know what it meant to have a broken soul.
But she could guess.
It meant that she would never have the Lexa she knew before the accident.
It meant that nothing would be the same ever again.
It meant that she’d made a deal with Apollo for nothing.
She knew this is what Hades had meant.
Your actions have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death.
It took a moment for Persephone to focus. “You really are the worst.”
She turned on her heels and left the elevator as its doors opened. Apollo followed close behind.
“Just because you failed to recognize the flaws in your bargain doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“No, everything else you do makes you a bad person.”
“You don’t even know me,” he argued.
“Your actions speak loud and clear, Apollo. I saw all I needed at the Lyre.”
“There are two sides to every story, Love Nugget.”
“Then by all means, tell me your side,” she snapped.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“Then why do you keep talking?”
“Fine, I won’t.”
“Good.”
There was silence as they crossed the main floor of the hospital and exited the building, then Apollo spoke again.
“You’re trying to distract me from my purpose!”
“I thought you weren’t talking,” she complained, and then asked. “What purpose?”
“I came to summon you,” he said. “For a date.”
“First, you don’t summon someone for dates,” she said. “Second, you and I aren’t dating. You asked for a companion. That’s it.”
“Friends go on dates all the time,” he argued.
“We’re not friends.”
“We are for six months. That’s what you agreed to, Honey Lips.”
Persephone glared. “Stop calling me names.”
“I’m not calling you names.”
“Love nugget? Honey lips?”
He grinned. “Pet names. I’m trying to find the right one.”
“I don’t want a pet name. I want to be called by my name.”
Hermes had given her a nickname, and she’d come to think of it as endearing.
“Too bad. Part of the bargain, Baby.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said.
“You missed it; it was in the fine print.”
Persephone knew her eyes were glowing bright green.
“It’s not an option, Apollo.” She cut him off. “You will call me Persephone