A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(120)
At first she did not know who had come to her rescue, but then her eyes fell upon Hephaestus, whose eyes glowed with raw power and flame. He turned his back to her and face Poseidon, who rose from the rubble, his trident gleaming.
Suddenly her head was yanked back, and she stared into Hera’s cruel eyes as she lifted a blade and brought it down upon Persephone’s neck. She reached for Hera’s hand and summoned spires from her fingertips. They sank deep into the goddess’s flesh and she scream, wrenching away, her sword went flying. Rage flashed in Hera’s eyes and she picked Persephone up by the arm and threw her. She flew through the air, the wind felt sharp against her skin. She landed on her feet, but in a crater and as she jumped from it, Hera continued toward her. Persephone gathered her magic and blackened limbs burst from the earth, tangling around Hera’s arms and ankles, holding her aloft in the sky. The goddess struggled, her scream sounded animalistic, until the vines closed over her mouth, silencing her.
There was a moment where Persephone stood at the edge of the abyss her body had created, staring out at the destruction brought about by the gods—the earth was barren and cracked, and fires raged, cutting across the land like rivers of flame, the sky heavy with smoke. The magic of the gods was heavy in the air, an energy that felt like doom and sounded like thunder.
Across the field, the Olympians were locked in battle with one another—blades and spears clanked and clashed, while bursts of powerful magic countered attacks. Apollo released arrows upon Ares, who blocked them with his spear. Hephaestus used his fire-like whip to block blow after blow of Poseidon’s trident, while Artemis and Aphrodite crossed blades. Then there was Hades, who was still locked in a fierce battle with Zeus. The two struck at each other with their weapons—Hades’
bident and Zeus’s lightning bolt. Each time they clashed, there was an explosion of power and it seemed to feed their anger.
Persephone focused on the two, her magic rising to grip Zeus’s ankles and arms. The god broke her hold easily, but she persisted, and Zeus roared with anger. Hades used the opportunity to send shadows shuddering through him until he stumbled backward. As he fell, the ground yawned open, urged by Persephone’s magic, and the god fell into the abyss, dirt and rubble filling the hole, burying him alive.
Hades turned to Persephone just as the ground began to shake, and Zeus tore free from the ground in an explosion of earth, showering the gods with dirt and rock. Lightning crackled around the King of the Gods, and his eyes glowed. A terrible fear shivered through Persephone when she saw him and felt his power. It was like a poison, making her stomach sour.
“Persephone!” Hades roared.
The lightning hit fast. Her body shook uncontrollably, her limbs froze in place, eyes wide, mouth open. She could only see the flash of violet light, smell burning hair and flesh. She did not know how long she suffered beneath the shock, but something happened, a shift in her body as it adjusted to the feel of the magic that had initially accosted her body and suddenly, she could harness it. As Zeus’s attack ended, Persephone felt aglow, her body zinging with electricity. Her eyes narrowed upon Zeus in the sky and she gathered his magic as if it were her own, sending it striking toward him.
His eyes widened just as he was hit, and his body convulsed in the sky.
When the assault ended, Zeus fell, his landing shaking the Earth. Persephone’s vision swam and her lungs rattled. She turned, searching for Hades only to find Ares releasing his golden spear. It cut through the air at an inhuman speed—too fast for Persephone to move.
In the next second, she was pushed to the ground, she twisted to see Aphrodite’s body arch as she was pierced by the spear. It lodged in the ground behind her, and she was pinned at its center, her arms hung limp beside her, blood dripped from her mouth.
“No!” Hephaestus’s roar was so loud and so deafening, it halted the battle. Everyone watched as he tore his way toward her, wreathed in flame, reaching for the spear, he pulled it free from her body.
One arm was wrapped around her shoulders, the other pressed on her stomach.
“Aphrodite—” Ares spoke her name as his feet touched the ground. “I didn’t mean—”
“If you take another step, I will slit your throat,” Hephaestus threatened.
“Aphrodite,” Persephone whispered, her throat thick with tears. “No.”
“Persephone,” Hades said, suddenly beside her, urging her to her feet. “Come.”
“Aphrodite!” she screamed.
“We must go,” Hades said.
“Apollo! Heal her!” Persephone cried.
Hades gathered her into his arms.
“No!” she roared even as they vanished.
CHAPTER XXXV – A FAVOR
She was still screaming when they appeared in their bedchamber.
“It’s going to be okay,” Hades said, his arms were tight around her, holding her up.
“She took that spear for me,” Persephone cried, burying her face in his chest.
“Aphrodite will be well,” Hades said. “It is not yet her time to die.”
Even hearing those words, it took a while for Persephone to calm down. The day had begun on such a beautiful note—a euphoria she’d never felt before—and it had quickly spiraled. Sybil was still missing, there were thousands of dead buried beneath that avalanche, and the Olympians were now divided.