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Hermes’s expression grew serious. He nodded, tense. “I did.”

Hermes knew the gravity of such a promise. It was not something offered to placate, though Persephone had used it in that manner. An oath such as this meant the god was bound to protect Persephone for eternity. It went beyond a single moment.

“Swear it,” Hades said. “Swear you will protect her at all costs, even if it means an end to your own life.”

“Hades,” Persephone said, a note of horror in her voice, but he did not look at her.

“I swear it,” Hermes said.

“You know the consequences if you fail?”

He nodded once, and then Hades let his gaze drop to his outfit.

“Black is not your color.”

Hermes arched a brow. “Since when did you become the fashion police?”

“I had a…decent teacher,” Hades replied.

“Decent?” Hermes scoffed, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a knock at the door.

They all turned in the direction of the sound.

“Come in,” Persephone said.

The door cracked open, and Ilias entered the room, hesitating when he saw the three.

“Sorry to interrupt…whatever this is,” he said. “Hades, you’re needed.”

He could sense the satyr’s urgency, and he dreaded whatever waited for him.

He turned to Persephone and took her into his arms, cradling her head between his hands.

“I love you,” he said and kissed her hard on the mouth, and as his lips moved against hers, a new sense of unease overtook him. It fueled the way he kissed her and felt a little like goodbye.

He did not like it, and when he pulled away, she looked just as troubled, but she held his gaze and whispered breathlessly, “I love you.”

Hades took a step back, leveled a final warning look at Hermes, and stepped outside his chamber with Ilias.

“What is it?” he asked.

CHAPTER XXVI

DIONYSUS

Dionysus knocked on Ariadne’s door.

Since he’d returned from his visit with Poseidon, she had not come out of her room. He hadn’t even tried to get her attention last night, wanting to give her space.

He was frustrated with himself. When she’d called him out for not respecting her or valuing her, he hadn’t protested. He’d just accused her of the same thing.

In addition to that, he wasn’t sure he could tell her about his visit with Poseidon.

It had unnerved him more than he thought it would, not only because of what he had learned about Medusa but because of what the God of the Sea had said about Ariadne. He wondered why Theseus was so obsessed with her. What did she have that he wanted? Perhaps it was merely that she knew his secrets and she had escaped.

Whatever it was, it worried Dionysus the more he thought about it, and it made him anxious that he had involved her at all in this quest for Medusa.

Medusa’s fate was another horrifying revelation. What sort of curse had befallen her? To only become a weapon in death?