A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(37)

Hades stood and held out his hand. “Come, you will join me.”

Persephone took his hand—a move that Minthe watched with fire in her eyes. She twisted on her heels and left the study ahead of them. They followed her down the hall and to his throne room. It was cavernous, the ceilings high. Rounded glass windows let in muted light. Black flags bearing images of gold narcissus flanked either side of the room. Hades throne sat upon a precipice. Like him, it was sculpted and looked as if it were composed of thousands of pieces of shattered and sharp obsidian.

A man with mocha skin stood there near the precipice. He was draped in white and crowned with gold. His hair was long and two braids hung over his shoulders, clamped with gold. His dark eyes first fell upon Hades, and then to her.

Persephone tested Hades’ grip on her hand, but the god only held her tighter, guiding her past the Ferryman and up the steps to his throne. Hades waved his hand, and a smaller throne materialized beside his own. Persephone hesitated.

“You are a goddess. You will sit in a throne,” he said, guiding her to be seated. It was only then that he released her hand. He took his place upon his throne. She thought for a moment that he might drop his glamour, but he didn’t.

“Charon, to what do I owe the interruption?” Hades asked

“You’re Charon?” Persephone asked, shocked.

He looked nothing like the drawings in her Ancient Greek textbook. He was either an old man, a skeleton, or a figure cloaked in black. This version almost resembled a god—beautiful and charming.

Charon grinned, and Hades jaw tightened.

“I am indeed, my lady,” he said, bowing his head.

“Please call me Persephone,” she said.

“My lady will do,” Hades said sharply. “I am growing impatient, Charon.”

The ferryman bowed his head. Persephone got the sense Charon was amused by Hades’ mood. “My lord, a man named Orpheus was caught sneaking onto my ferry. He wishes for an audience with you.”

“Show him in. I am eager to return to my conversation with Lady Persephone.”

Charon snapped his fingers, and a man appeared before them on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Persephone inhaled, surprised by the manner in which he’d been restrained. The man’s curly hair was plastered to his forehead, still dripping with river water from the Styx. He looked defeated.

“Is he dangerous?” Persephone asked.

Charon looked at Hades, and so Persephone did, too.

“You can see to his soul. Is he dangerous?” she asked again.

She could tell by the way the veins in his neck rose that he was gritting his teeth. Finally, he said, “No.”

“Then release him from those bindings.”

Hades eyes bore into hers. Finally, he turned to the man and waved his hand. When the bonds disappeared, he fell forward, hitting the floor. As he climbed to his feet, he looked at Persephone. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Why have you come to the Underworld?” Hades asked. Persephone was impressed. The mortal kept Hades’ gaze, and showed no sign of fear.

“I have come for my wife,” he said. Hades did not respond, and the man continued. “I wish to propose a contract—my soul in exchange for hers.”

“I do not trade in souls, mortal,” the god answered.

“My lord, please—”

Hades held up his hand, and then the man turned his gaze to Persephone, pleading.

“Do not look upon her for aid, mortal. She cannot help you.”

Persephone took that as a challenge.

“Tell me of your wife,” Persephone said. She felt Hades gaze burn into her.

“She died a day after we were married.”

“I am sorry. How did she die?”

“She just went to sleep and never woke up,” his voice broke.

“You lost her so suddenly,” Persephone felt such sympathy for the man, who stood broken before them.

“The Fates cut her life-thread,” Hades said. “I cannot return her to the living and I will not bargain to return souls to the living.”

Persephone’s fists curled. She wanted to argue with the god in that moment—before Minthe and Charon and this mortal. Is that not what he had done during The Great War? Bargained with the gods to bring back their heroes?

“Lord Hades, please—” Orpheus choked. “I love her.”

Something hard and cold settled in her stomach when she heard Hades laugh—a single harsh bark.

“You may have loved, mortal, but you did not come here for her. You came for yourself,” Hades reclined in his throne. “I will not grant your request. Charon.”

The daimon’s name was a command, and with a snap of his wrist, both he and Orpheus were gone. Persephone seethed. She was surprised when Hades broke the silence.

“You wish to tell me to make an exception.”

“You wish to tell me why it’s not possible,” she countered.

His lips twitched. “I cannot make an exception for one person, Persephone. Do you know how often I am petitioned to return souls from the Underworld?”

She imagined often, but still.

“You barely offered him a voice,” she said. “They were only married for a day, Hades.”

“Tragic,” he said.

She glared at him. “Are you so heartless?”