Beside him, Persephone’s breath caught in her throat, and she spoke, awed. “Hades…how gorgeous.”
But he had never stopped staring at her, and when she finally looked at him, they came together once more, their mouths colliding. Hades’s hands slid around her body, holding her hips in place as he rolled into her, his length trapped between them, hard and throbbing.
“Hades,” she whispered as his mouth left hers long enough to remove their clothes. He lowered them both to the ground, where he worshipped her body with his mouth. He loved every part of her—her heavy breasts, her stomach, and the space between her thighs—and when they were both wound tight, he settled his arousal against her and rocked his hips forward.
Sliding into her was an out-of-body experience, and she was there, swelling and gripping, and he froze, his forearms braced on either side of her face. For a moment, she was still, her head back, chin tilted up, but then she seemed to relax, release her breath, and open her eyes.
Their eyes met, and all Hades could see when he looked at her was his queen.
“Marry me,” he whispered as her finger traced his face, and though he had asked her twice before, this time felt different. It felt right, and he guessed it was for her too, because she answered with a quiet “Yes.”
They smiled at each other, and he kissed her before he moved, thrusting deep, and she arched beneath him. There was a part of him that felt almost powerful as she writhed—powerful but humbled, because she let him in.
She let him drive her toward release, and after he came, he noticed that tears welled in her eyes.
He bent to kiss them, whispering as he did. “My darling, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” she said and reached to wipe her eyes, laughing once more.
Hades thought he understood a little of what she was feeling—a happiness that went beyond anything he had ever known. As much as he felt being here was a victory, he also felt like he had more to lose.
“I love you,” he said and carried her into the water, where they bathed.
After, they dressed and headed for the palace.
Unlike their ride to the waterfall, their return was quiet. For the first time in a long while, Hades felt unburdened. In this place and time, nothing existed beyond this moment—not the labors Hera had put him through or the death of the Graeae. He did not think of Theseus or even of Zeus. Those were not things he was fighting for—they were things he fought against.
He fought for Persephone, for this love that she inspired in his heart—for these feelings he never expected to feel, much less so deep. He knew things were changing. He could feel it in the threads that moved beneath his glamour, but he hoped that whatever the Fates wove, it included a future for him and Persephone.
Even if that future meant turmoil.
When the palace came into view, Hades noticed Thanatos waiting, and his mood instantly darkened. The high he’d felt from the start of their evening
crashed so hard he felt shaky. When he’d thought of turmoil, he hadn’t expected it to come so soon, but he knew what this meant.
He knew.
And already his heart was breaking for Persephone.
A few more paces and they were within range of Thanatos, who looked stricken. He was always pale, but there was a yellow sheen to his skin that made him look sickly, and even the hollows of his cheeks seemed deeper, his eyes more hooded. Hades dismounted, and as he helped Persephone off Alastor, he noted that she couldn’t take her eyes off the God of Death either.
Her dread was just as heavy.
As they approached, Hades kept his hand on the small of Persephone’s back, a precaution in case she crumpled.
“Thanatos,” Hades greeted.
“My lord, my lady,” he said and swallowed, trying twice to speak, but whatever words he had thought he would start with fell dead on his tongue.
Instead, he admitted, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”
It was not often Thanatos was at a loss for words, not often when he could not provide comfort in difficult situations, and the fact that he could not now showed how much he truly cared for Persephone and her friend.
It was a few more moments before he managed to speak, and by then, Persephone was quivering.
Finally, he managed, “It’s Lexa.”
The first sob tore from her mouth in a rush of emotion, and Hades drew her to him, holding her tighter as Thanatos continued.
“She’s gone.”
Chapter XXVIII
On the Way to Elysium
Hades had watched a lot of people die, and he had watched a lot of people lose.
Nothing prepared him for watching someone he loved losing someone they loved.
It was a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. It was as though someone gripped his heart, as if they were squeezing it within their palm, and there was no release, no way to shake the hold. It was ever-present and constant, and it was hopeless.
“Persephone,” Hades said, but her eyes were unfocused. She had stopped crying soon after the first wail had burst from her lips, and now she was quiet and distant. As much as he wanted to give her time to process this, he needed her attention for a few moments longer.
“Persephone,” he said, touching her face, and when her eyes met his, she burst into tears once more.
“My darling,” he said gently, brushing away her tears, but she just cried harder. “We don’t have much time.”
He gathered her into his arms, teleporting to the pier at the Styx where Charon would be arriving soon.
When she heard the rush of the river, she pulled away, looking off toward the horizon.
“Hades, what are we—?”
Her words faltered when she saw Charon’s boat cutting across the black waves, his robes a bright beacon against their darkness. There was a single figure beside him, a woman who looked far younger in the Underworld landscape than she did in the world above.
“Lexa,” he heard Persephone whisper, and when Charon docked with the soul, Persephone stood so close, Lexa barely had space to climb out of the boat, but she seemed just as eager to see Persephone. They held each other and cried. All the while, Hades stood aside and let them, because beyond this time together, nothing would ever be the same.
Not for Lexa and not for Persephone.
Hades tried not to listen to their conversation, but it was hard given that he stood only a few feet away. There were apologies and expressions of pain, and the dread came when Persephone turned to him and asked, “Where is she going?”
She was going to Elysium to heal because she had taken her own life, and to do that, she would have to drink from the Lethe, which meant she would have no memories from her time above—not of anything, not even Persephone.
He knew Persephone had asked because she hoped he would say otherwise, but when he did not speak, he knew she understood. He waited for her anger, but Lexa was quick to speak, drawing her attention.
“Seph,” she said, squeezing her hands. “It’s going to be okay.”
Persephone’s mouth trembled. “Why?”
Lexa opened her mouth to speak but shook her head. It was likely she didn’t even understand the decision she’d made. It was just that her soul had wanted so badly to remain in the Underworld the first time, it couldn’t handle returning to a world it did not want—no matter how much she loved Persephone.
“I did this,” Persephone said, her voice trembling, and Lexa brought her hands to her chest.
“Persephone, this was my choice. I am sorry it had to be this way, but my time in the Upperworld was over. I accomplished what I needed to.”
“What was that?” Persephone asked, miserable.
Lexa smiled. “To empower you.”
Persephone shook her head and fell into Lexa’s arms. It wasn’t something she was ready to hear yet, but there would come a time when she would recognize the impact of this loss. She would see how strong she truly was.
They remained together until Thanatos arrived to escort Lexa to the Lethe. This time, he was far more prepared to offer the benefits of his magic, and a sense of calm overcame everyone gathered, even as Lexa hesitated.