“I will not help you overthrow Zeus,” Hades repeated.
He would not do anything on anyone else’s terms. Overthrowing Zeus was far more complicated than gaining alliances. The God of Thunder was always looking for hints of rebellion, consulting prophecies and moving pieces to prevent the conception of someone far more powerful than himself. It was perhaps the plight of being a conqueror—a fear of the cycle repeating as it had with the Titans and the Primordials. Zeus feared ending up like their father, Cronos, and their grandfather, Uranus.
Hades had no doubt that eventually the tides would turn and the Fates would weave new rulers—a fact that would make the Olympians a target.
He’d already suspected Theseus, his demigod nephew, of making such plans, though he did not know the extent. Theseus led Triad, an organization that rejected the influence and interference of the gods. Ironic, considering Hades was certain Theseus hoped to obtain full divinity, or at least equivalent power.
“Then this will not end well for either of us,” Hera replied.
They stared at each other, a quiet tension building.
“If you will not help me overthrow Zeus, then you shall have to earn your right to marry Persephone.”
Hades’s fingers curled into his palms.
“This is not about Persephone,” he said, the words slipping between his teeth.
“This is the game, Hades, and all gods play it. I asked for your aid and you declined, so I shall seek retribution all the same.”
She spoke as if this were mere business, but Hades knew Hera, and her threats were not idle. The goddess would do just about anything to ensure she got her way, which meant she was not above hurting Persephone.
“If you touch her—”
“I will not approach her if you do as I say,” she said, then tapped her chin, eyeing Hades from head to toe. “Now, how best to earn the right to marry your beloved Persephone.”
Her musing made Hades cringe. Clearly her intention was to wound. She knew Hades wished to marry Persephone just as much as she knew he felt unworthy of such a gift. This was as much a punishment as it was entertainment for the goddess.
“Ah! I have it,” she said at last. “I shall assign you to twelve labors.
Your…completion of each one will show me just how devoted you are to Persephone.”
“Pity Zeus never had to do this for you,” Hades replied tightly.
It was the wrong thing to say—and hateful, he had to admit. Hades despised how Hera had come to be wed to his brother. It had been through deception and shame, and Hades’s words had only brought those memories to the surface, causing Hera to go pale with rage.
“Kill Briareus,” she sneered. “That is your first task.”
Hades could barely breathe hearing her words.
Briareus was one of three Hecatoncheires, unique in his appearance, as he had one hundred arms and fifty heads. The last time Hera had tried to overthrow Zeus, it was Briareus who freed him, earning Hera’s wrath, so while it was no surprise that she would seek her revenge, to execute him through Hades’s hands was another thing entirely.
Hades liked Briareus and his brothers. They had been allies during the Titanomachy and ultimately were the reason the Olympian gods had been able to overthrow the Titans. They deserved the gods’ reverence, not their blades.
“I cannot take a life the Fates have not cut,” Hades countered.
“Then bargain,” she replied, as if it were that simple.
“You do not know what you ask,” Hades said.
A soul for a soul was the exchange the Fates would make—a give or take, depending on the havoc they wished to create.
The Fates did not like the gods meddling in their threads. This would have dire consequences. Hades could feel it moving beneath his skin as the phantom threads of the lives he’d bargained away tightened.
“You have one week,” Hera replied, heedless of his words.
Hades shook his head, and while he knew she did not care, he said it anyway. “You will come to regret this.”
“If I do, then you will too.”
He had no doubt.
When she vanished, Hades stood in the quiet of Nevernight, recalling their exchange. The Goddess of Marriage had been right. This was a game that all gods played, but she’d used the wrong pawns.
Hades would get his way eventually, and the goddess would come to rue the day she decided to test him.
He took another swig of whiskey before hurling the bottle across the room, where it shattered in an explosion of glass.
“Fucking Fates.”
Chapter II
An Element of Dread
Kill Briareus.
The two words felt thick and heavy in his chest, a binding that made it hard to breathe or think as he made his way to the Underworld.
He had imagined his return very differently. He had intended to occupy himself with erotic thoughts of how he would conclude his weekend with Persephone and see them through to the early morning when they would both face the harsh reality of their choice to go public with their relationship, a decision Hades was not certain either of them was prepared for. Given Kal’s earlier attempt at some kind of blackmail, the sharks were already circling.
Now he was distracted by Hera’s singular order and devising plans to avoid her labors. Hera was not the only god with the power to bless marriages, though her power to curse marriages was far more dreaded.
Ultimately, though, the decision was up to Zeus, and Hades did not think his brother would be so approving if Hades were responsible for Briareus’s death.
Gods, he hated his family.
Hades appeared in his office, intending to go in search of Persephone, but found he was not alone. Thanatos was already waiting. The God of Death often kept Hades informed on the daily activities of the souls—especially when things went awry, and it was that thought that gave Hades pause.
“Is something wrong, Thanatos?” Hades asked as the god swept into a deep bow, his long white-blond hair veiling his face.
“No, my lord,” Thanatos replied as he straightened, his dark wings rustling. He looked like a slender shadow, his head crowned with a pair of black gayal horns. “I merely wished to make you aware of an…
occurrence.”
“An…occurrence?”
“At the Styx,” he said. “Lady Persephone greeted the souls.”
There was nothing inherently wrong with Persephone greeting the souls, though the way Thanatos was presenting the information made Hades’s heart race.
“Get to the point, Thanatos,” Hades snapped. “Is she okay?”
The God of Death blinked.
“Why yes, of course,” he said quickly. “I did not mean to imply otherwise. I thought you would want to know and perhaps…caution her.
You know new souls can be very unpredictable.”
Hades’s relief was instantaneous, though his irritation with Thanatos spiked.
“Are you… tattling, Thanatos?” he asked, raising a brow.
The god’s eyes widened. “I— No, that was not my intention. I only thought you should know…”
The corner of Hades’s mouth lifted. “I will speak with Persephone,” he said. “Though the next time you intend to inform me of her exploits, I suggest you begin with how it ended.”
Thanatos’s pale face turned red. “Yes, my lord.”
Without another word, Hades left his office to find Persephone.
It was not difficult to locate her. He could sense her within his realm, her presence a steady pulse that beat in tandem with his heart. He followed it, drawn to it, and found her in the library, seated in one of the overstuffed chairs near the fireplace. Even if he had not been able to sense her, he would have guessed she took solace here. His library was one of her favorite places in the palace, and he found it comforting that even after their time apart—though he hated to be reminded—she found it so easy to return to her previous routine.
From his place at the door, he could see the very top of her golden head, and as he approached, he found her reading. A chaotic mix of emotions erupted inside—a warm relief and a cold dread.
She was here now.