Page 193

As he watched them race for the grove, he noticed something different about it. The trees, which were usually full and a muted silvery green, were skeletal and sparse, as if his magic had been drained from that part of the Underworld.

Strange.

He teleported, and it was like he’d arrived at a battleground. Stretches of land were disturbed by deep fissures and chasms. Clusters of thorns shot from the ground, tangling into trees so thickly, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended, though most ofthem were gone, just piles of ash that swirled and blew in the wind.

He could feel Hecate’s magic, but he could also feel Persephone’s.

It seemed they’d had quite the training session.

As he stood there, he watched as Typhon pounced on the red ball, bright against the gray backdrop that Persephone’s grove had become.

Hades took his time restoring it, calling up his glamour to make the trees grow taller, their foliage thicker, covering the ashy ground with a carpet of periwinkle and white phlox—the same flowers he’d helped Persephone grow here when he’d taught her how to channel energy for her magic. Those memories gave way to far more passionate ones—the ones where she’d taken him into her body beneath these trees and on this ground. He wanted more of that.

When he was finished, he left the grove, returning to the fields. Typhon still had the ball and refused to relinquish it, and the dogs ran in circles around his feet. Their excitement made him laugh, and he followed their movements, even as Cerberus tore away, followed by Typhon, then Orthrus, to greet Persephone.

She stole his breath as she approached, wreathed in an aura of moonlight. She looked wild and her energy was raw. It scraped against him, not uncomfortable but inflaming.

She seemed to hesitate as she held his gaze and stopped a few paces away. It felt like a chasm had opened up between them. He wanted her closer.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” she said.

“It was a busy day. As was yours. I saw the grove.”

“You do not sound impressed.”

“I am, but to say I am surprised would be a lie. I know your capabilities.”

Hades watched as Persephone drew her bottom lip between her teeth in the silence that followed. He wanted her mouth against his—on every part of him.

“Did you come to say good night?” he asked.

She took a breath. “Will you not come to bed with me?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was that they still had so much left unacknowledged. He swallowed hard.

“I will join you shortly.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but she didn’t leave and instead seemed to grow frustrated.

“I want to talk about the other night.”

Hades’s chest tightened as he considered whether he was ready to face this.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said, unable to meet her gaze. He cleared his throat when the words came out in a rasp.

“I know,” she whispered.

“I was so lost in my desire, in what I wished to do with you, I didn’t see what was happening. I pushed you too far. It will never happen again.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What if that’s what I want?” Hades’s eyes snapped to hers, and she continued, “I want to try so many things with you, but I am afraid you will not want me.”

He was taken aback by those words.

“Persephone—”

“I know it isn’t true, but I cannot help how I think, and I thought it was better to say what was on my mindthan keep it to myself. I don’t want to stop learning with you.”