A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(25)
“You may blame me for the choices you made, but it changes nothing,” Hades said, and felt he was challenging the real reason she came here—to tell him his bargain with her was unfair, for retribution. “You are mine for six months, and that means if you write about me, I will ensure there are consequences.”
“It is true what they say about you,” she said. “You heed no prayer. You offer no mercy.”
Yes, darling, he thought, angrily. Believe what everyone says about me.
“No one prays to the God of the Dead, my lady, and when they do, it is already too late.”
He was finished with this conversation. He had things to do, and she had wasted his time with her accusations.
Hades waved his hand, and Adonis woke with a sharp inhale. He sat up quickly, looking dumbfounded. Hades found everything about him annoying, and when the mortal met his gaze, he scrambled to his feet, apologizing as he did and hanging his head.
“I will answer no more of your questions,” Hades said, looking at Persephone. “Minthe will show you out.”
He knew the nymph waited in the shadows. She had never truly left them alone, and he hated the smug look on her face as she came into his office from the Underworld entrance. Perhaps that was what made him call out to his goddess before she left.
“Persephone.” He waited until she faced him. “I shall add your name to my guest list this evening.”
Her brows came together in confusion. She probably thought her invitation to tour his realm would be revoked after her behavior, but it was important, now more than ever. It was the only way she would see him for who he was.
A god desperate for peace.
CHAPTER VIII– AT THE ISLAND OF LEMNOS
Hades found Aphrodite waiting for him on the steps of her mansion on the island of Lemnos. It was a beautiful home, built by Hephaestus himself, a mix of modern lines, intricate filigree, and walls of windows that offered a view of each glorious sunrise and enchanting sunset.
This island was a sacred place for Hephaestus. It was where he landed when Hera cast him off Olympus. As a result of the fall, he’d broken his leg, and the people of Lemnos cared for him. Even after he was invited to return, the god preferred to stay, as he had built a forge, taught the people ironwork, and gained worshippers. Hades always considered the fact that the God of Fire was willing to share this island with Aphrodite a sign of his love for her, but he had never told her his thoughts—she probably would not listen, anyway.
“Come to surrender?” Aphrodite asked. She wore a dress that looked like the inside of a seashell and a seafoam robe rimmed with flowing feathers. Her golden hair gleamed, cresting like waves down her back.
“I have come to speak to your husband,” Hades replied.
“Do not call him that,” she snapped, her eyes flashed with anger.
“Why? Has Zeus granted your divorce?”
“He refused,” she said, and looked away toward the ocean, where the sun hung low in the sky. She paused a moment, and Hades recognized the silence for what it was—time for her to compose herself. Whatever she was about to share was difficult for her. “Even after Hephaestus agreed it was best.”
Fucking Hephaestus, Hades thought to himself. The God of Fire was worse than him at saying the wrong things.
“He expressed not a shred of anger when I told him what I’d done,” Aphrodite continued, looking at Hades again. “He works a forge all day and has not an ounce of fire within.”
“Have you considered that he wasn’t angry because he expected it?”
Aphrodite glared, and Hades explained.
“You admitted yourself you’ve never had a marriage, Aphrodite. Why would you expect Hephaestus to mourn what he never had?”
“What do you know, Hades? You’ve never had a marriage, either.”
Hades suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. All of his conversations with Aphrodite ended with her flippantly rejecting his opinion or advice and throwing his own loneliness back in his face.
Why did I try?
“Hephaestus is in his lab,” Aphrodite said. She turned, bare feet moving over the marble steps.
Hades trailed behind her. She did not enter her home, but instead, turned down a walkway that cut through a garden full of bright, tropical flowers and swaths of ornamental grasses. The path lead to a glass bridge that connected the mansion to a volcanic island where Hephaestus kept his shop, carved from the largest mountain.
The workshop contained a forge on the lower level and a lab on the upper level, where he experimented with technology and enchantments. Over the years, the God of Fire had created armor and weapons, palaces and thrones, chains and chariots—and people, among the most famous being Pandora, who he molded and sculpted from clay. She would later be used as a scapegoat, a way for Zeus to punish mankind. Hades had never asked Hephaestus about her fate, but he had a feeling it haunted the god to this day.
“He’s been working on a project. Bees,” Aphrodite said as she walked, and there was a note of admiration in her voice. “They are mechanical, disease resistant.”
Bees were dying at an alarming rate for various reasons—parasites and pesticides, poor nutrition, and environment. The latter had more to do with Demeter than anything, as the Earth tended to suffer when her mood was dark. Hades felt it was a strategic move on the part of the goddess, as a loss of bees meant less food production, which resulted in a reliance on the Goddess of Harvest for healthy crops.