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I scowl. “He didn’t touch her as a father would touch his daughter.”

“Relations between Gods have always been complicated.” Hades winces. “We are far from perfect. One only has to scan a mythology text to understand that.”

I don’t have the headspace for that. Not now. “What is the point of a world war?”

“World wars, true world wars of the calibre Ares commands, end civilizations. Civilization always begins anew, with an awareness of the Gods such that Zeus desires it. It is over time and in the absence of Gods in which other religions form. That humanity in power, those with blood blessed by Zeus to stand in his image—think royalty and those who are driven to positions of power within the government—manipulate the masses. They cause tragedy and despair of the kind that never allows prayer to die. Hope lingers on the brink of eternal death, never falling even as it teeters on that edge.”

“So, what is his end goal, then?”

Hades’ brows furrow and he rolls his lips. A long silence stretches between us before he admits, “I do not know.”

We sit in the silence of our thoughts for far too long. Long enough that I come up with a plan. A plan that isn’t entirely my own, I’m certain. A plan whispered by three tongueless voices in which weave their threads into my fate.

“I can’t come home,” I whisper finally. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t let Zeus stay here in power. I can’t let him continue doing all that he is doing.”

Hades searches my eyes, dropping to my hand as I reach into the bust of my dress. I pull the dark pendant of swirling dark magic from the fabric and hold it for Hades to see. He stares at it for long moments, before understanding settles in his eyes.

“Hecate gave you this?”

“She did.”

“The amulet is blessed with the power of Nyx.”

“It is.” I tell him what Hecate told me. “It will craft a portal anywhere it is broken. A portal to the Underworld. To Hecate’s home.”

Understanding registers in Hades’ eyes. Flames, dangerous and violent, erupt to devour iris and pupil. “No.”

“I can do this, Hades.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“You’ll be there. You’ll be ready to take over when we pass through.”

“Persephone—” He shakes his head. “No.”

My vision blurs and Hades curses, his arms tightening around me. I recognize the pull as the same as the times before, when I’d been physically tugged from the dreams we shared. “Be ready, Hades.”

“Fuck,” I hear him curse.

My eyes drift open, and I see Ares standing above me, golden eyes narrowed. “You have some explaining to do, Persephone.”

“I—I do?” I try to scoot higher on the bed, to escape the way Ares’ big body hovers over mine. I can still feel the grip of my dream, and struggle to shove it off.

“Oh, most definitely.” When I try again to sit, Ares plants a massive hand between my ribs. The soul inside me flutters, as though called by his nearness.

I swallow hard, freezing under his touch. “What are you doing?”

Ares’ nostrils flare as though he is scenting the air. “I am the God of War,” he tells me bizarrely. “I’ve never missed the scent of blood, not once.”

What the heck is he on about?

“Do you know what I find peculiar, Persephone?”

I shake my head quickly, just once. “N—no.”