A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(38)

“They are not the first to have a tragic love story, Persephone, nor will they be the last, I imagine.”

“You have brought mortals back for less,” she said.

Hades looked at her. “Love is a selfish reason to bring the dead back.”

“And war isn’t?”

Hades’ eyes darkened.

“You speak of what you do not know, Goddess.”

“Tell me how you picked sides, Hades,” she said.

“I didn’t.”

“Just like you didn’t offer Orpheus another option. Would it have been relinquishing your control to offer him even a glimpse of his wife, safe and happy in the Underworld?”

“How dare you speak to Lord Hades—” Minthe began, but she stumbled when Persephone glared at her. She wished she had powers because she would turn Minthe into a plant.

“Enough,” Hades stood, Persephone followed. “We are done here.”

“Shall I show Persephone out?” Minthe asked.

“You may call her Lady Persephone,” Hades said. “And no. We are not finished.”

Minthe did not take her dismissal well, but she left, her heels clicking against the marble as she went. Persephone watched Minthe leave until she felt Hades’ fingers under her chin. He lifted her eyes to his.

“It seems you have a lot of opinions on how I manage my realm.”

“You showed him no compassion,” she said. He looked at her for a moment, but said nothing and she wondered what he was thinking. “Worse you mocked the love he had for his wife.”

“I questioned his love, I did not mock it.”

“Who are you to question love?”

“A god, Persephone.”

She glared at him. “All of your power and you do nothing with it but hurt.” He flinched at that and she continued. “How can you be so passionate and not believe in love?”

Hades offered a humorless laugh. “Because passion doesn’t need love, darling.”

Persephone knew just as well as he did that lust fueled the passion they shared, and yet she was surprised and angered by his response. Why? He had not treated her with compassion and she was a goddess. Perhaps she had hoped to see him moved by Orpheus’ plea as she had been. Maybe she had hoped to see a different god in the moment—one who would prove all her assumptions wrong.

And yet, it had only confirmed them.

“You are a ruthless god,” she said, and snapped her fingers, leaving Hades alone in his throne room.





CHAPTER X – TENSION



Persephone arrived at the Acropolis early on Monday. She wanted to start her article, and Hades had given her more than enough to work with during her visit to the Underworld. She was still angry with Hades for how he had treated Orpheus. She could still hear his bitter laugh at the poor man’s expression of love for his deceased wife, and it made her feel cold.

At least he had shown his true nature—and he had done so at the precise instant she had begun to think he possessed a conscious.

The Fates must be on her side, she thought.

When she stepped off the elevator on her floor, she found Adonis standing at the front with Valerie. He was leaning over her desk chatting. They seemed surprised when she arrived, and Persephone felt like she was intruding on a private moment.

“Persephone, you’re here early.” Adonis cleared his throat and straightened.

“Just hoping to get a head start. I have a lot to do,” she said, and passed them, heading straight for her desk.

Adonis followed. “How’d Nevernight go?”

She froze for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Hades invited you to Nevernight before we left the interview. How did it go?”

Oh, right. You are too paranoid, Persephone, she thought.

“It was fine,” she answered, stowing her purse and opening her laptop.

“I thought he might convince you not to write about him.”

Persephone took a seat. She hadn’t considered that Hades’ intention in inviting her on a tour of the Underworld might be a tactic to keep her from writing about him.

She looked up at Adonis and answered. “At this point, nothing could convince me not to write about him. Even Hades himself.”

Especially Hades. Every time he opened his mouth she found another reason to dislike him, even if that mouth inflamed her.

Adonis smiled, oblivious to her treacherous thoughts. “You’re going to make a great journalist, Persephone.” He took a step back and pointed at her. “Don’t forget to send me the article. You know, when you’re finished.”

“Right,” she said.

When she was alone, she attempted to sort out her thoughts on the God of the Dead. So far, she felt like she’d seen two sides to him. One was a manipulative, powerful god who’d been exiled from the world so long, he didn’t seem to understand people. That same god had bound her to a contract with the very hands he’d used to heal her. He’d been so careful and gentle until it came to kissing, and then his passion was barely restrained.

It was like he starved for her.

But that couldn’t be true—because he was a god and he had lived for centuries which meant centuries of experience and she was only obsessing over this because she had none.