A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(56)



“And you’re just a glorified gardener,” Hypnos replied.

“Hypnos,” Hades let out a warning growl.

“No wonder you live outside the Gates of the Underworld,” Persephone muttered.

It was the first time Hypnos looked amused. “For your information, I live outside the gates because I am still a deity of the Upperworld, despite my sentence here.”

“Your sentence?”

“It is my punishment to live beneath the world for putting Zeus to sleep,” he said.

“Twice,” Hades emphasized.

Hypnos glanced askance at the god; an angry brow arched.

“Twice? You didn’t learn the first time?” Persephone asked.

Hades attempted to suppress a smirk.

“I learned, but it’s hard to ignore a request from the Queen of the Gods. Rejecting Hera means living a hellish life and nobody wants that, right Hades?”

Hypnos’ pointed question took the amusement out of Hades’ gaze. Satisfied with his jab, the god returned his attention to Persephone.

“Tell me of these nightmares,” Hypnos said. “I need details.”

“Why must you hear about them?” Hades asked. “I told you she was having trouble sleeping. Is that not enough to create a draught?”

“Enough, perhaps, but a draught will not solve the issue,” he glared at Hades. “I am older than you, My Lord—a primordial deity, remember? Let me do my job.”

Hypnos returned his gaze to Persephone’s. “Well?” His voice was gruff, demanding, but she got the sense that if he did not wish to help her, he would have already left. “How often do you have them?”

“Not every night,” she said.

“Is there a pattern? Do they come after a particularly stressful day?”

“I don’t think so. That is part of the reason I do not want to go to sleep. I’m not sure what I’ll find on the other side.”

“These dreams…did they proceed something traumatic?”

Persephone nodded.

“What?”

“I was kidnapped,” she said. “By a demi-god. He was obsessed with me and…he wanted to rape me.”

“Was he successful?”

Persephone flinched at Hypnos’ direct question, and Hades growled.

“Hypnos.”

“Lord Hades,” Hypnos snapped. “One more interruption and I will leave your company.”

Persephone’s eyes shifted to Hades, whose hand had sprouted lethal black spires.

“It’s alright Hades. I know he is trying to help.”

The god smiled ruefully. “Listen to the woman. She appreciates the art of dream interpretation.”

“No,” Persephone said. “He was not successful, but when I dream, he seems to get closer and closer to…being successful.”

She couldn’t help it—she spared a glance at Hades as she spoke and saw that he was pale. Her chest felt tight. She hadn’t thought about what this might do to him—perhaps she should have told him to leave. Though, she doubted he would have listened.

“Dreams—nightmares—prepare us to survive,” Hypnos said. “They bring our anxieties to life so we may fight them. You are no different, Goddess.”

“But I survive,” Persephone argued.

“Do you believe that you would survive if it happened again?”

She started to speak.

“Not in the same situation—a different one. One where perhaps a more powerful god abducted you.”

She slammed her mouth shut.

“You do not need a draught,” he said. “You need to consider how you will fight in your next dream.

Change the ending and the nightmares will cease.”

The god stood then.

“And for the love of all gods and goddesses, go to fucking sleep.”

With that, Hypnos vanished.

Persephone looked at Hades. “Well, he was pleasant.”

Hades’ expression told her everything she needed to know about what he thought of the God of Sleep. Then his eyes drifted down and narrowed.

“Why is there blood on shirt?” He asked.

Persephone’s eyes widened and when she looked, she saw a crimson stain. She hadn’t noticed it before leaving Hecate’s cottage. She guessed this was the way to tell Hades about her afternoon training session.

“Oh…I was practicing with Hecate,” she said.

“Practicing what?”

“Healing,” she said.

Hades’ brows drew together. “That is a lot of blood.”

“Well…I couldn’t exactly heal if I wasn’t injured,” she explained, but she could tell by the look on Hades’ face that was the wrong thing to say. He tilted his head to the side, mouth hardening.

“She is having you practice on yourself first?”

Persephone opened her mouth to speak but there was nothing to say except, “Yes…why is that wrong?”

“You should be practicing on fucking… flowers. Not yourself. What did she have you do?”

“Does it matter? I healed myself. I did it.” She was proud. “Besides, I don’t have a lot of time. You know what happened to Adonis and saw what happened to Harmonia.”

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