A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(72)

He sat on his throne, hands curled around the arms, closed his eyes, and searched for the familiar pull between them, the strange link he shared with no one else. He always knew when he found her because he felt instantly at peace, as if he were somehow more complete. This time, as he latched on to her magic, he pulled her to him, teleporting her to his realm.

It was, for the most part, a move designed to illustrate his power, and when she appeared in the dark-reddish light of his throne room, she looked severe, angry, and hurt. She didn’t even speak to him when she arrived before she was already attempting to teleport. When her magic did not work, she snapped.

“You cannot just remove me from the Upperworld when you please!”

“You are lucky I removed you and not the Furies.”

“Send me back, Hades!” Her voice was raw with anger. It was a tone he had never really heard from her before, but grief was strange, and it transformed emotions into monsters. For Persephone, it also made her magic riot. It boiled between them, thickening the air, and he wondered what she would do with all that energy building inside her. Would flowers bloom at her feet, or would vines burst from the floors?

“No.”

He wouldn’t keep her against her will, but he wasn’t going to let her leave until they discussed how she had treated Thanatos. Persephone’s magic seemed to have other ideas, and he felt it ripple and watched in horror as thorns erupted from Persephone’s skin like blades—at her shoulder, her side, and her calves. She was immediately covered in blood, and she sank to her knees with a cry. Hades’s shock brought him to his feet, and he raced down the precipice to her side.

“Stop!” she sobbed, shaking from her pain. “Don’t come any closer!”

There was no fucking way he was going to leave her alone. She’d nearly exploded in a bloody heap of thorns, and he didn’t think that was an exaggeration. Her magic had done this. It had gained power from her anger, and when it had nowhere to go, it just manifested like this.

He knelt beside her, unsure of what to do. She had gone so pale, and it was made worse by the light, which made her blood look black.

“Fuck, Persephone. How long has your magic been manifesting like this?”

“Don’t you ever listen?” The words slipped from between her clenched teeth.

“I could ask the same of you,” he said humorlessly as he lifted his hand, intent on healing her, though he hesitated a moment, waiting for her to protest. The pain must have won out because she said nothing.

He winced as he placed his hand on the first wound. The thorn was sharp and wet from her blood, the skin around it shredded. He gritted his teeth as it healed and moved to the next one on her side, then the two that protruded from her calves. When he was finished, he sat back, hating the feel of her blood on his hands so much, they shook.

“How long have you kept this from me?” he asked, knowing it had not gotten this bad overnight.

Has she told Hecate? he wondered.

“I’ve been a little distracted in case you haven’t noticed,” she replied bitterly, her breathing still not quite right. “What do you want, Hades?”

She sounded defeated as she spoke, and the tone of her voice put Hades more on edge. He felt as though she were pulling away from him once more, but this time it was worse. It should have made him desperate, but instead, he was angry.

“Your behavior toward Thanatos was atrocious. You will apologize.”

She glared. “Why should I? He was going to take Lexa! Worse, he tried to hide it from me!”

“He was doing his job, Persephone.”

“Killing my friend isn’t a job! It’s murder!”

That word— kill—he hated it. It tore through him like an arrow to the heart. She acted as if he wanted this to be Lexa’s fate, as if she’d forgotten who exactly he was.

“You know it isn’t murder! Keeping her alive for your own benefit isn’t a kindness,” he hissed. It was the harshest he’d ever been with her. “She is in pain, and you are prolonging it.”

“No, you are prolonging it. You could heal her, but you have chosen not to help me!”

“You want me to bargain with the Fates so that she might survive? So you can have the death of another on your conscience? Murder doesn’t suit you, goddess.”

Throwing the word back at her must have hit her just as hard because she tried to hit him, but he caught her hand and pulled her close. The blood that coated his palm was drying and felt sticky as he held her. Being this close added another level to his pain, as it reminded him of the night before, when they had come together so passionately.

Was this their love? These two extremes that felt so desperate all the time?

Then her hand curled into a fist, and her head fell against his chest as she began to cry.

“I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades.”

It was moments like this when he realized that his heart no longer belonged to him.

“I know,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “But running from it won’t help, Persephone. You are just delaying the inevitable.”

“Hades, please,” she said, desperate, and then whispered, “What if it were me?”

No.

He released her. “I refuse to entertain such a thought.”

“You cannot tell me you wouldn’t break every Divine law in existence for me.”