Page 72 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)

Mal opened her mouth to press the question, to plead for more, but before the words could leave her, Zagreus stirred.

‘Hades fell in love with the goddess Hecate,’ Zagreus began, his voice low, shaped more by memory than breath. ‘He forged your kingdom as a gift to her, his tribute. But she chose differently. She fell for a wyverian man, a mortal.’

Mal’s breath caught, but she said nothing.

‘Hades tried to forget her, to bury the ache. He married our mother, Persephone, hoping perhaps to fill the void. It only made things worse. He could never let Hecate go. He could never understand how she could choose a mortal over a god. She left him behind, left everything, just to live among mortals with the man she loved. And that drove Hades to madness.’

Zagreus’ eyes remained fixed on the horizon, unblinking, as his fingers slowly curled into fists.

‘Our mother left him because of it. She couldn't bear the torment. Hades, in his desperation, descended into the mortal world, thinking he could win Hecate back. But it was too late. She had given her heart elsewhere.’

Mal leant back slightly, a cold twist of dread blooming in her chest. Something told her she didn’t want to hear what came next .

‘What did he do?’ she asked softly.

Zagreus’ lips parted in something far from a smile. ‘He killed him. The mortal Hecate loved. Thought that if the man was gone, she would grieve, then return to him.’ His voice darkened. ‘But she didn’t. Instead, she used her magic to bring the man back to life, and in doing so, cursed them both.’

Mal said nothing, her pulse pounding in her ears.

‘She bound them. Tied their souls together across time. And in that spell, she cursed Hades too. Now, every time she is reborn, the mortal is reborn alongside her. And Hades… Hades finds her. Again. And again. And again. In every life, he watches her fall in love with the same soul. Never with him. The story always loops back to the beginning.’

‘So… Hecate is reborn because of the curse she cast on him?’ Mal asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

‘We don’t know if she remembers her past lives or not,’ Zagreus replied. ‘Perhaps not until she reaches a certain age. But no matter what any of them do, no matter the choices they make... the ending is always the same.’

Mal’s brow furrowed. ‘Then what does Hades want with me?’

Zagreus’ eyes shifted to Makaria, who looked away, her lips pressed in a thin line. ‘He thinks… he thinks you might be the key. That you could break the cycle.’

‘Why me?’ Mal pressed, unease settling in her bones. ‘How am I tied to any of this?’

‘You are his daughter. The curse didn’t stop with Hecate. It passed into you.’

Mal’s eyes widened. ‘Then you and Makaria… you’re cursed as well?’

Zagreus finally turned to face her. His expression was solemn, edged with something ancient and weary .

‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Makaria and I share your father. But not your mother.’

‘My mother was Tabitha Wysteria.’ The words tasted strange on Mal’s tongue, and speaking them aloud sent a ripple of discomfort through her.

It felt like a betrayal, like she was turning her back on the only parents she had ever known.

King Ozul and Queen Senka would always be her true family, no matter the blood that ran in her veins.

‘Tabitha Wysteria was the name Hecate took in that lifetime,’ Zagreus said gently. ‘Your mother is a god, Melinoe. As is your father. You are the daughter of Hecate and Hades, two gods bound by a curse. And that curse was passed onto you the moment you drew your first breath.’

Mal shook her head, a sharp, almost violent denial.

No, no, no.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be.

And yet… a whisper of doubt began to uncoil within her. Why not?

‘Their... their curse?’ she asked, her voice no louder than a breath. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, moved between them in search of something—clarity, reassurance, anything. Makaria clung to her hand, trying to offer comfort, but Mal’s body felt numb, her limbs fading like smoke.

Zagreus’ attention drifted back out into the void, as though he could see something far beyond the darkness. Mal wanted to look too, to follow his stare and lose herself in the nothingness. But she couldn’t tear her eyes from him. From his profile.

‘The curse your parents carry…’ Zagreus’ voice was hushed, solemn.

‘You will fall in love with a mortal. But a god, one you can never truly love in return, will destroy him, just to possess you. Hades loved Hecate. He created the wyverians as a gift for her. But she gave her heart to one of them. She broke his, sh attered it. So Hades, in his fury, killed the man she loved.’

His gaze darkened, distant.

‘And so it began. Every time Hecate and her mortal die, they are reborn. In every life, Hades finds them. And in every life, he kills the man she loves. And Hecate… she takes her own life. Out of sorrow. Out of grief. Over and over again. And now that same curse falls to you.’

‘This mortal…’ Mal’s voice caught in her throat, barely a whisper. ‘It was Hadrian Blackburn?’

Zagreus nodded. ‘Though the name changes, the soul remains the same.’

‘I don’t… I don’t understand.’

‘Hades didn’t create you out of love,’ Zagreus said, his words like frost. ‘He made you with one purpose in mind, because he believes you can break the curse.’

Mal stopped breathing. Her chest clenched with dread.

‘And Tabitha… I mean, Hecate. Did she know?’ Her voice wavered.

Zagreus offered a helpless shrug. ‘We don’t know. But Hades brought you here because he knows. He knows the curse passed to you. And he’s hoping you will end it.’

‘That’s why he wanted to marry you to Thanatos,’ Makaria added quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow. ‘He thinks that if you can stop loving Ash, and fall for Thanatos, you will break the curse that binds you all.’

Mal’s eyes burnt. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

Zagreus shrugged again. ‘Because you’re our sister, aren’t you? You deserve to know.’

‘No… I can’t…’ The words spilt out of Mal in a hoarse whisper.

‘Melinoe—’ Makaria breathed.

‘Don’t call me that!’ Mal hissed, snatching her hand away and getting up, stumbling back as if burnt. She could feel the truth creeping into her skin, anchoring itself inside her bones. A truth that would never let her go.

She turned and fled, the cold corridors swallowing her as she ran. The stone beneath her feet felt too real, too solid. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to be this.

She crashed into someone, hard. Strong arms caught her.

Mal took a step back, her expression hardening the moment she caught sight of Thanatos.

‘Did you know?’ she spat, her voice sharp with betrayal.

His obsidian eyes searched her face as though hoping to find some fragment of understanding there. After a long, weighty pause, he sighed and gave a slow nod, slipping his hands into his pockets.

‘And what?’ she demanded, her voice rising with fury. ‘You were going to make me fall in love with you? Was that the plan? What did you hope to gain from it?’

‘You,’ he said simply.

‘You don’t even know me.’

For the first time, Thanatos faltered. He shifted uncomfortably, his weight passing from one foot to the other like a guilty boy caught in a lie.

‘But I do,’ he said at last. ‘I’ve watched you from here. For years, I listened to your prayers. For years, I waited for the curse to break, for the moment we could come for you. So you could finally return home. With us.’

‘This isn’t my home,’ Mal replied coldly.

‘It could be,’ he said with a casual shrug, though his voice was soft. ‘If you let it.’

‘Well, I don’t.’ She made to push past him, but his hand left the safety of his pocket and caught her wrist before she could go.

‘Let go,’ she snapped .

And he did. Immediately, without resistance.

‘Melinoe…’

‘That is not my name,’ she hissed, spinning around to face him, her fury burning bright in her gaze. ‘My name is Mal Blackburn. I am fourthborn of House of Shadows, Kingdom of Darkness. I am the wife of Ash Acheron. And I will return to him. Right now.’

She didn’t know how she would do it. She doubted any of them would lift a finger to help her. But she would find her way back to Ash. If not walking, then crawling. If not with magic, then with sheer will alone.

As if some unseen force heard the raw truth in her vow, the world around her began to twist.

The air shifted. The very ground beneath her warped and trembled as though reality itself had been pulled taut and was ready to snap. A great force from above began to draw her upward, as if plucking her from the Underworld like a thread from the fabric of fate.

Thanatos’ face contorted with shock, sorrow, and something else she couldn’t name. He didn’t reach for her. He didn’t try to stop it.

He just watched.

As though he knew something she did not.