“Breathing,” she said with a laugh, though he could feel how hot her skin was and knew she needed a break from the crowd.
He chuckled and they fell silent, content for the moment to stand in each other’s energy.
“I have something for you,” he said, kissing her hair.
Persephone turned in his arms, her hands pressing firmly to his chest.
“What is it?”
He studied her for a moment, like he did when he wanted to memorize her face. This time, he wanted to memorize this moment before everything changed. Then he shifted, reaching into his pocket for the box.
He knelt before her.
“Hades—”
“Just…let me do this. Please.”
She closed her mouth and smiled. Then he opened the box, revealing the ring he had Hephaestus forge so long ago. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth as her breath caught in her throat.
“Persephone,” he said. “I would have chosen you a thousand times over, the Fates be damned. Please…become my wife, rule beside me, let me love you forever.”
Her eyes glistened and she swallowed as she whispered her answer.
“Of course. Forever.”
Hades grinned, and for a moment, he forgot to put the ring on her finger.
He fumbled as his large fingers clasped the small piece of metal. Once it was in place, he rose to his feet and took her into his arms, kissing her until she was breathless.
“You wouldn’t have happened to overhear Hermes demand a rock, would you?” she asked once they parted.
“He might have been talking loud enough for me to hear,” he said, amused. “But if you must know, I have had that ring for a while.”
“How long?”
“Embarrassingly long,” he admitted. “Since the night of the Olympian Gala.”
But he had known then that she was his forever. Fuck, he had known before that, from the moment he had laid eyes on her on the floor of Nevernight.
“I love you,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.
“I love you too,” she said, and this time, her lips pressed to his.
He drew her close, wishing to become completely lost in this moment, to forget what lay on the horizon, but there was a sudden chill on the wind that made his blood run cold. When he pulled away, he saw snow.
Snow in the middle of summer.
There was only one god who might be responsible, one god who used weather to torture the world into submission—and that was Demeter.
“Hades,” Persephone whispered, drawing closer to him. “Why is it snowing?”
He did not look at her as he spoke, staring angrily at the flurries whirling over New Athens.
“It’s the start of a war,” he said.
And you—you’re at the center of it.
What in Hades’s name happens next?
A Game of Gods, the next installment in the breath-stopping Hades Saga.
Bonus Content
Read ahead for a sneak peek into A Touch of Chaos , coming from Bloom Books, September
2023.
The burn in his wrists woke him.
The headache splitting his skull made opening his eyes nearly impossible, but he tried, groaning, his thoughts scattering like glass. He had no ability to pick at the pieces, to recall how he had gotten here, so he focused instead on the pain in his body—the metal digging into the raw skin on his wrists, the way his nails pierced his palm, the way his fingers throbbed from being curled into themselves when they should be coiled around Persephone’s ring.
The ring. It was gone.
Hysteria built inside him, a fissure that had him straining against his manacles, and he finally tore open his eyes to find that he was restrained in a small, dark cell. As he dangled from the ceiling, body draped in the same heavy net that had sent him to the ground in the Minotaur’s prison, his gaze locked with familiar aqua eyes. He was not alone.
“Theseus,” Hades growled, though even to him, his voice sounded weak.
He was so tired and so full of pain, he could not vocalize the way he wished; otherwise, he would rage.
The demigod was not looking at him, but at a small object clutched between his thumb and forefinger. He looked so at ease—and why not? He had the advantage.
“This is a beautiful ring,” he said and paused, twisting it so that even beneath the dim light, the gems glittered. Hades watched it, his stomach knotting with each movement. “Who would have guessed it would be your downfall?”
“Persephone will come,” he said, certain.
Theseus laughed. “You think your bride can go up against me? When I have managed to ensnare you?”
Hades took a breath, as deep as he could manage, though the weight of the net pushed against his sternum—it pushed against his whole body, made him feel like he was crumbling. Then he spoke, a quiet promise that shook his bones.
“She will be your ruin.”
Author’s Note
If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know I began the Hades Saga because of my readers, though I always felt that Hades was up to something in the time he wasn’t with Persephone in the main series. I especially knew this to be true during the events of A Touch of Ruin, but I’m not sure even I expected what would unfold in Retribution.
This book was a bitch to say the least, and I fought hard against writing it.
I think there was an element of dread because I was returning to a book that dealt heavily with grief and I am only a year into my own journey with grief.
I dreaded facing the feelings, drudging them up. I dreaded the feedback, too. I was afraid people would compare Hades and Persephone and once again elevate his character above hers, and we all know how much I identify with my girl.
I have a soapbox I like to stand on when people compare the two—and I’m going to use it now because this is important to me, and because it’s important to me, I know it will be important to my readers—to you.
There is no comparison between Hades and Persephone. There is no elevating one above the other. The foundation I am laying is one of equal partnership, and these books are meant to illustrate their progress toward that. Hades lives in a very big world. He is an immortal god who has existed for thousands of lifetimes. The challenges he faces day-to-day look very different from Persephone, whose world is much smaller. I am so dismayed when I see people—women, especially—bash Persephone while they glorify Hades. He has just as many issues to work through, no matter how much he professes his love for Persephone.
So I just ask you to instead consider their backgrounds and celebrate their differences. I ask you to remember how hard it is to face loss and to grieve
—and if you cannot remember, then imagine. If you do not wish to imagine, then do not judge, because until you’ve gone through it, there is nothing to say.
With those words, I’m going to dive into some of the myths I wove into this story.
Let’s start with the greatest theme in this book:
The Labors
First, I knew I would not be rehashing all twelve labors because that would have been awful (mostly for me). I also knew some of what Hera was working on outside of the obvious labors (the Graeae, Dionysus, Ariadne, even Persephone) would all be some type of labor.
Of the labors I used these:
The hydra (which you see in Malice)
The Stymphalian birds
The Girdle of Hippolyta I have a longer note on the Girdle of Hippolyta. I don’t like either of the original two myths about Heracles and Hippolyta.
The first is that she was so enchanted by Heracles that she gave him her belt without argument and the second ends in her death after the Amazon’s attack Heracles and his crew, thinking they are abducting his queen. Still, I felt she would respect a god who would honor her by an equal exchange rather than simply taking. I feel this is truer to character for Hippolyta, who, I believe, knows how to pick her battles.
Of the labors, I made a nod to these via symbolism: The Nemean lion
The Erymanthian boar