A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(82)

“Perhaps the worst part of all this is that she doesn’t even know what you’ve been fighting for. You haven’t told her. You’ve told her nothing. You

did not even tell her the consequences of bringing Lexa back.”

“She should trust me.”

“Fuck you, Hades.”

He stared, a little shocked by her vitriol.

“You want her to be your queen, to stand beside you in judgment of souls, yet you could not even tell her that broken souls never come back right. You could have shown her the consequences. She is not some mortal who came to beg at your feet for a bargain.”

A thickness gathered within Hades’s chest. It was almost suffocating and nearly impossible to swallow it down.

“People like Persephone, who have been told half-truths and lies their whole life, need more than words, Hades, and you—you have to realize this isn’t even about love or trust anymore. It’s about you. Your fears. Your insecurities. You cannot continue to live a life and not show her the world you have created, no matter how awful or hard or scary. She deserves to know what it means to love you fully. Do you not wish for that?”

“I wish for it,” he admitted. “But I do not believe she will love all parts of me.”

“That is unfair to her,” Hecate said. “You think her darkness cannot love yours? She was made for you.”

Hades lowered his eyes and felt the weight of his defeat.

“Now what are you going to do about this?”

“I…don’t know yet.”

“You do not have to know today,” she said. “But you will have to decide, because Persephone is about to learn what it means to bring Lexa back, and she will need you, more than anything.”

Hades frowned. He suspected that whatever lay before her with Lexa would be far worse than what was behind them now.

“Come, boys,” Hecate said. “We have work to do.”

Hecate left the hallway, and each of his Dobermans glared at him before turning one by one to follow the goddess.



*

Hera did not come to collect Hippolyta’s belt, which further confirmed Hades’s suspicion that she had not truly cared about the labor so much as she wished to use it to distract him. He was certain now that he understood the goddess’s motives, though he had yet to confirm her alliance with Theseus.

When he’d refused to participate in her revolt, Hera had sentenced him to labors that would benefit her. The death of Briareus was revenge but also ensured that Zeus would not be able to call on a great ally who had defeated her in the past. Fight night had likely been a test to evaluate the use of the hydra, the Stymphalian birds, and Heracles as weapons against the gods.

Obviously, they’d found a use for the hydra’s venom, and while Hades did think that Hera could have used Hippolyta’s belt, he knew now that it was a decoy.

She’d unwittingly managed to manipulate Hades into benefiting her cause, and he resented it—but he would find a way to get back at the goddess. She would regret her entanglement in his life.

In the meantime, Ilias had prepared Zofie for her assignment. They’d agreed that she would keep her distance by using a particular power Hades had been surprised to learn she possessed—the power of shape-shifting.

The power itself was not unusual; he’d just not expected the Amazon to morph into an average white cat. Still, it meant Zofie could keep a close and discreet eye on Persephone, which gave Hades peace of mind considering they were currently not speaking. As much as he wanted to, he did not know how to move forward yet. Apologies seemed too trivial here, but perhaps that was the only way to begin again.

“Are you even listening?” There was an edge to the voice that brought Hades out of his thoughts, and he met a pair of brown eyes. They were set in the face of a mortal man with dark, curly hair and thick glasses. He was Hades’s first bargain of the night, and potentially his last.

He could not focus on this right now.

“No,” Hades admitted, and as hard as it was, he offered an apology.

“I’m…sorry. Please continue.”

The young man’s lips were pressed thin, a reflection of his anger, but he sighed and continued. Before Hades had zoned out, the man had explained that his grandmother had been his guardian since the age of five and she was now dying.

“The doctor has given her two months to live,” he said. “Please…she’s all I have.”

Hades frowned at the young man. “I will not bargain for the life of a soul,” he said, and though they were the words he always used to deny a request like this, they were harder and more painful to say this time.

His rejection just seemed to spur the mortal on.

“Then I need to bargain for something else,” the man said, searching for ideas. “The money to get her the care and medicine she needs. Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Have you asked your grandmother what she wants?” Hades interrupted him.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Have you asked your grandmother if she is at peace with dying?”

“She doesn’t want to leave me,” he said defensively.

“I did not ask you if she wanted to leave you,” Hades said. “I asked if she is at peace with dying.”

The mortal did not respond.