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“I did it,” she said with a smile when she opened her eyes.

“You did,” he said, though he wanted to double-check just in case. And then he wanted to return and help his fellow Olympians kill those who had attacked the stadium. He would leave their bodies a mangled mess for all to see as a warning to anyone who might think to participate or continue these horrible assaults.

“What are you thinking?” Persephone asked, drawing his attention.

“Nothing you wish to know,” he said softly. “Let’s clean you up.”

He took her into the bathroom, carrying her thoughhe knew she could walk perfectly well. When they had undressed, he kissed her and touched her shoulder to ensure it was fully healed.

She pulled away, looking at the now-smooth skin.

“Was I not good enough?” she asked.

“Of course you are good enough, Persephone,” he said. He had not intended to make her feel any less. “I am overprotective and fearful for you, and perhaps selfishly, I wish to remove anything that reminds me of my failure to protect you.”

“Hades, you did not fail,” she said.

“We will agree to disagree,” he said.

“If I am enough, then you are enough,” she insisted.

He hoped one day he would believe that.

Her hands moved over his chest and around his neck.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I never wanted to see you suffer again, not like you did in the days following Tyche’s death.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said and kissed her.

They showered together, hands smoothing over soapy skin until both of them felt flushed and wanting, but Hades could not bring himself to act on his desires—too much had occurred tonight. Instead, he relied on words and told her he loved her.

“I love you,” she said, voice quiet. “More than anything.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and as they trailed down her face, he whispered her name and gathered her into his arms. He carried her from the shower to the fire, sitting with her nestled against his chest.

“All those people…gone,” she whispered.

Mass death was never easy, and they’d had a lot of it in a short amount of time.

“You will not be able to console everyone who makes their way to the gates unexpectedly, Persephone. Those deaths are far too numerous. Take comfort. The souls of Asphodel are there, and they will represent you well.”

“They represent you too, Hades,” she reminded him and grew quiet for a moment before asking, “What about the attackers who died tonight?”

“They await punishment in Tartarus.” He paused, holding her gaze. “Do you wish to go?”

She offered him a small smile. It wasn’t humorous, more an acknowledgment that he had changed.

“Yes,” she said. “I wish to go.”

Hades took Persephone to Tartarus, to his den of monsters. Some of the creatures here were dead while others were living and merely prisoners, but that did not change their usefulness when it came to torture.

Persephone looked around, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. The magic was heavy here, different, and it hung in the air like a winter chill, suppressing the power of the monsters within.

Now and then, the faint echo of a growl, shriek, or scream echoed outside the dungeon.

“There are monsters here,” Hades explained.

“What…kind of monsters?” she asked.