A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(109)

“Hades!” She whispered his name, but when he released her hand, the cut was healed.

“I do not wish to see you bleed.”

“It was only a drop,” she whispered.

The god did not reply, but she knew there was no way she could understand how he truly felt, seeing her injured, even so small.

They stepped away from the basin, and Zeus lit the oil. It blazed quickly and burned in an unearthly shade of green. The smoke was thick and billowed. Slowly, the flames began to resemble a person— a woman cloaked in flames.

“Pyrrha,” Zeus said. “Give us the prophecy of Hades and Persephone.”

“Hades and Persephone,” the oracle repeated. Their voice was clear, cold, and ancient. “A powerful union—a marriage that will produce a god more powerful than that of Zeus himself.”

And that was it—with the prophecy given, the fire vanished.

There was a long silence where Persephone could stare at nothing but the basin.

A marriage that will produce a power greater than that of Zeus himself.

They were doomed. She knew the moment the words were spoken. Even Hades had stiffened.

“Zeus,” Hades’ voice was dark, a frightening tone she had never heard before in her life.

“Hades.” Zeus’s tone matched.

“You will not take her from me,” he said.

“I am king, Hades. Perhaps you need reminding.”

“If that is your wish. I am more than happy to be the end of your reign.”

A tense silence followed.

“Are you pregnant?” Hera asked.

Persephone’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Need I repeat myself?” Hera asked, annoyed.

“That question is not appropriate,” Persephone said.

“And yet it is important when considering the prophecy,” she replied.

Persephone glared at the goddess.

“Why is that?”

“The prophecy states that your marriage will produce a god more powerful than Zeus. A child born of this union would be a very powerful god—a giver of life and death.”

Persephone looked at Hades.

“There is no child,” Hades said. “There will be no children.”

Poseidon chuckled. “Even the most careful of men have children, Hades. How can you possibly ensure that when you cannot even get through a dance without leaving to fuck?”

“I do not have to be careful,” Hades said. “It is the Fates who have taken my ability to have children. It is the Fates who wove Persephone into my world.”

“Do you wish to remain childless?” The question came from Hera. Persephone could tell she was curious.

“I want to marry Hades,” she said. “If I must remain childless, then I will.”

But as she spoke the words, her chest ached—not for herself but Hades. When he’d told her of the bargain he’d made, he had agonized, and she had quickly recognized that it was Hades who had wanted children.

“You are certain you cannot have children, brother?” Zeus asked.

“Very,” he gritted out.

“Let them marry Zeus,” Poseidon said. “Obviously they wish to fuck as husband and wife.”

Persephone really hated Poseidon.

“And if the marriage produces a child?” Zeus asked. “I do not trust the Fates. Their threads are ever-moving, ever-changing.”

“Then we take the child,” Hera said.

Persephone held onto Hades’ hand so tight, she thought his fingers might break. All she could think was do not speak—do not protest.

“There will be no child,” Hades repeated, adamant.

There was a long moment where Hades and Zeus stood opposite one another, glaring. It was so hot in this room, and each breath Persephone took felt like it was clawing its way out of her throat. She needed to get out of here.

“I will bless this union,” Zeus said at last. “But if the goddess ever becomes pregnant, the infant must be terminated.”

At Zeus’s words, Hades wasted no time leaving. One second, they stood in the temple on Olympus and the next they were in the Underworld.

Dizzy, Persephone hit the ground and vomited.





CHAPTER XXXI – A TOUCH OF FOREVER

“It’s okay,” Hades said. He knelt beside her, gathering her to him, brushing her hair out of her sweaty face as she sobbed.

“It’s not,” she said. “It isn’t.”

They had demanded her child. She did not even know if it was possible for her to ever conceive, but the idea that Zeus would take her child devastated her.

“I will destroy him,” she said. “I will end him.”

“My darling, I have no doubt,” Hades said. “Come, on your feet.”

She rose with him and Hades took her face between his hands. “Persephone, I would never— will never—let them have any part of you. Do you understand?”

She nodded, despite wondering how he could stop them. Zeus was determined to eliminate any and all threats—except the ones that mattered. There was a part of her that did not even trust his blessing.

Hades took her to the baths, to a smaller pool than the one they usually used. This one was round and raised.

“Let me,” Hades said, helping her out of her gown and into the pool. The water was warm and came to her breasts. Hades knelt, lathering a bar of soap between the folds of a cloth. She shivered as he began washing her—starting with her back, her shoulders, her arms, when he reached her breasts, his movements slowed, and he ran the cloth over her in soft passes until her nipples beaded beneath his touch. When she could take no more, she reached for his wrists.