A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone #2)(92)

She blinked at him.

“He’s just hurt and frustrated. We all have things that are important to us—things we value above others. Hades values trust. He values the process of earning trust. He feels like he failed.”

Persephone frowned. “How do you know that?”

“The Olympians have had a long history. We know each other in ways that would make you cringe—inside and out.”

Persephone shivered.

“Hades doesn’t feel worthy without trust. He needs you to believe in him, to find strength in him.”

Persephone frowned. She knew Hades had a difficult time feeling worthy of his people’s worship, but she never thought he would have the same difficult feeling worthy of her love.

What had happened to him over his many lifetimes?

“What happened to you?” Persephone asked Apollo. “No one does what you do without…some sort of trauma.”

It took Apollo a long time to speak, but he finally answered.

“He was a Spartan Prince. Hyacinth. He was beautiful. Admired and pursued by many gods, but he chose me,” he swallowed. “He chose me.”

Apollo paused and then began again.

“We hunted and climbed mountains. I taught him to use a bow and the lyre. One day, I was teaching him quoit.” Quoit was one of the games played during the Panhellenic Games. It involved throwing a heavy metal disc. “Hyacinth liked to challenge me and wanted to compete. He knew I wouldn’t deny him—or a chance to win. I threw first. I didn’t think about the strength behind the toss. He went to catch the disc, but there was too much power behind my throw, and it bounced off the ground and hit him in the head.”

Apollo’s chest rose with a deep inhale. “I tried to save him. I’m the fucking God of Healing. I should have been able to heal him, but each time my magic worked to close his wound, it opened again. I held him until he died.”

His voice trembled now.

“I hated Hades for a long time after that. I blamed him for what the Fates had taken from me. I blamed him for refusing to let me see him. I…I did some unforgivable things in the aftermath of Hyacinth’s death. It’s why Hades hates me, and honestly, I don’t blame him.”

“Apollo,” Persephone whispered. Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful.”

While this didn’t excuse Apollo’s actions, she understood him a little better. He’d been broken a long, long time ago and since then, he’d been searching for ways to feel whole.

“Another round!” He called to the bartender, who was quick to comply. Apollo handed Persephone a shot.

“Cheers,” he said.

Things were a blur after the last shot. Persephone’s head swam, her words slurred, and everything was funny. She danced with Apollo until her feet hurt, until the lights stung her eyes, until sweat beaded off her skin. When the perspiration turned cold, she suddenly didn’t feel well, and stumbled off the floor, running into something hard.

“Oh, hi Hermes.”

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

She responded by vomiting on the floor.

Her next lucid moment was when she found herself lying on the couch in Apollo’s booth, a blurry Hades cast a shadow over her.

He looked impassive, and that hurt more than she anticipated.

“Why did you call him?” She asked Hermes. “He hates me.”

“Blame Zofie,” Hermes said.

Hades knelt beside her. “Can you stand? I’d rather not carry you out of this place.”

Another blow. She sat up. Hades tried to hand her water, but she pushed it away.

“If you don’t want to be seen with me, why don’t you teleport?”

“If I teleport, you might throw up. I’ve been told you’ve already done that once tonight.”

He didn’t sound pleased.

She got to her feet. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning, and she swayed into Hades, who was quick to embrace her.

The feel of him against her skin was like a sexual experience. It made her quake to her very core. It made her hot all over. It made her want to moan his name.

She was being ridiculous.

She pushed away from him.

“Let’s go.”

She led the way outside where Hades’ black Lexus waited, Antoni offered his crooked smile when he saw her.

“My Lady.”

“Antoni,” she said, and breezed past him, climbing into the back of Hades’ car on her hands and knees. Hades followed close behind. She knew because she could smell him—spice and ash and sin.

She’d never considered the smell of sin before, but now she knew it for what it was—sultry and sexual. It filled her lungs, ignited her blood.

They sat in silence on the way home, the air thick with warring emotions. Persephone was busy building a wall against whatever Hades was feeling—it was dark. She could feel it twisting toward her, like the tendrils of his magic.

She was so relieved when they arrived at Nevernight, she opened the door before Antoni was out of his seat, but as she exited, she missed the curb and fell, her knee striking the concrete hard.

“My lady!” Antoni cried. He reached for her arm, but she pushed it away. “I’m fine.”