Page 14

Chapter

Thirteen

P ersephone

The water is deliciously warm. It turns out spending a week in and out of sleep, just conscious enough to eat before drifting back into the bliss of mental darkness, really takes it out of a girl.

My body aches, as though I’ve started lifting weights for the very first time. Or maybe I’m getting a flu.

I hope I’m not getting a flu. I can’t afford to be sick. Not when an immortal war of Gods crackles just under the surface of the reality humanity knows.

Urgh, this kind of stress can’t be good for a pregnant woman.

Goodness, I’m pregnant. I’ve hardly had time to process the fact I’m having a child. Two children.

Hades’ voice breaks the silence. “So, you remember?”

My eyes drift from the water that shimmers under the faint glow of flames that flicker within the blue agate chandelier to the God who sits across from me in the warm bathing pool.

He's so handsome. Even though he's mine, and I know he's mine, there’s a sense of awe when I look at him. Of wonder.

Even now that I have memories of the past, that I have memories of centuries of loving him, he still sparks a quickening inside me when I look at him.

Even now, I can't look away.

Can't see him and not be drawn closer. Not want more. Everything. Him .

Even now, having seen the magical gold thread that binds our souls in unbreakable stitches, I marvel at the draw I feel toward this man. This God.

I understand the reason that I can't fight it, can't pull away, can't distance myself. Still, I honestly believe without those gold threads binding us tightly together, there would still be a pull. There would still be a draw I would be helpless to deny.

Putting the magic of fate aside, I would still want him because he is more than bound to me.

He is Hades, God of Death and Afterlife. He is compassion wrapped in darkness. He is enchanting and kind and the most loyal of the Gods.

He is the father of my daughters, and he is mine.

My fingertips are a whisper against my belly. The new lives inside me are little more than a flicker, and yet I am entirely aware that they will change everything.

Hades’ hands move through the water in the motion of a breaststroke, but he does not come closer. He does not move to close the space that dares stand between us.

From across the bathing pool, he peers at me through dark eyes that dance with dim flames.

He's been tense since I left him in the night to visit Hydra. He’s been uneasy since I burst from the sinkhole on her back, bonded to her in a way that I am bonded to nothing else—not even to Hades.

My bond to Hydra isn't a soul bond: it is a love bond. A bond of friendship tethered by centuries alone together in darkness, unspooling the visions of fate and destiny.

“I remember,” I finally confirm his question.

“And?” he pushes gently for more. I think there's fear in his eyes.

“I thought it would change everything. I thought getting my memories back would be this big reveal…” My words drift off into thoughts I can’t make myself voice. They are too much. Too complex.

I’m still processing.

His voice is impossibly deep. It echoes in a low rumble off the walls of the cave, dripping incredulity. “It wasn't a big reveal?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It wasn't.”

His brows arch. “It felt pretty big to me, Persephone.”

“What do you mean?”

He blows a breath between puffed cheeks before he pulls another one deep. “You screamed like you were dying.” Discomfort edges his words. “I could do nothing to ease your pain. Even my arms around your body, my skin against yours, it seemed to cause you pain.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize for what the Moirai have done,” he growls. It is a menacing sound, but I am not afraid. I could never be afraid of him. Of my mate.

“I'm sorry that you felt you weren't able to comfort me,” I say softly, holding his eyes. “But you did. Your arms were the only comfort that I had in that moment. When my past, when the memories came—” I shake my head. “You were my only comfort.”

“Little goddess.”

“They are so ugly, Hades.”

He looks pained to hear it, but I can't deny it. I can't deny that although there was beauty in our love, the foundation it stood on was hideous.

I close my eyes and lean my head back.

I can't look at him, can't see his hurt as I speak my truth. “I remember loving you. I loved you so much, so deeply, but I never felt loved by you. I tried so hard, and I was so foolish.”

Hades stands. The water settles around his waist, droplets racing down the carved muscle in rivers. His chest is rising with sharp inhales he looses just as quickly. His hands curl into fists at his side, but otherwise, he does not move.

Softly, with centuries of rage seeping into his words, he tells me, “That is the way of narcissistic manipulation, little goddess. It is quiet and stealth. As the victim, you can’t see it.

And anyone who can’t see that, who can’t find the compassion to understand the abuse you suffered and the impact that had on you and your life, your decisions, is a grossly misguided soul with a deeply cruel heart.

” He inhales through his nose, releasing through his mouth.

“Healing takes time. Many do not heal with a lifetime of time. For many, healing is a journey that is taken after death. I would know.”

“Hades…” I close my eyes against the emotion that threatens to fall. I feel so impossibly fragile right now.

“Do you feel changed?” he asks gently.

I open my eyes to find that he is studying me. He’s also moved closer, but he’s not close enough to touch. Not yet.

“Not really, no.” I frown, because I don’t know how to express how I feel.

“I feel like me, just with more memories. Like they’re books I can pick from a shelf.

They all have a story, a scene I can call to mind.

They're there like any other memory, but I'm still me. I’m still the me I've always been.”

Hades knocks his head slightly to the side, still studying me. “But you have knowledge that you didn't have before.”

I dip my chin and admit hesitantly, “Yes…”

“Persephone.” I can’t help but smile a little at his exasperation.

“There's a lot of Demeter, a lot of Zeus.” His eyes dip to my lips when I frown. “They were so—they are so ugly. So black inside.” I shiver at the memories of the God and Goddess that rise in my mind. “They make my parents; my real parents seem so beautiful.” Needing something to do, I push my hands through the water. “They weren’t perfect, you know? They had their faults, of course.” I sniffle.

“But they loved me fiercely, Hades. They protected me when protecting me was so hard. They wanted me safe and happy. God—” The tears I’ve been fighting to contain finally slip free.

A sob hitches my breath. “They loved me, Hades.”

He's no longer on the other side of the pool. I’m in his lap now and his arms are around my body. His scent, so warm and him surrounds me.

He murmurs through a kiss against my temple, “I know, little goddess. I know.”

“I miss them.”

He sighs a weighted sigh; this is yet another thing he can’t give me. They’re stacking up, and I know that’s weighing heavy on him. “I know.”

“Will I ever see them again?” I pull back to catch his eyes.

“Yes,” he vows. “When it is their time. When they have lived.”

“Will they—remember me?”

“Yes.” His voice is so gentle, so full of love.

My aching heart weeps with it. With all that I’ve gained and all that I’ve lost. All that I stand to lose still.

“I feel so tender,” I confess. “I don't know if it's because I'm carrying my own girls now, but the love my parents gave to me, the protection and the encouragement, even if it was sometimes pushy…” I laugh. “I appreciate it more now. I see it differently. I wish…”

When my words drift off, Hades prompts, “You wish?”

“I wish that I could be for them what my parents were for me.” Hades’ eyes follow my hand where it rests on my belly.

“I wish that we could be for them what my parents were for me. That we could fight in their corner, even if they don’t see it.

That we could encourage them, even if they think we’re being pushy. I just wish we could be their parents.”

“We are their parents, Persephone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We will be their parents.”

I blink back the burn in my eyes. “We won't, Hades.”

“Yes, we will,” he vows. “We will watch them grow from afar. We will encourage them, again, from afar. And when they are women, I promise you, they will return to us.”

“You can't know that.” Even as I say it, I’m praying it is true.

“I do. I have seen it.”

I stiffen in his arms. “What do you mean, you've seen it? Did the Moirai show you something they didn't show me?”

Hades sighs. “It is not something I can discuss, but I do know that we will be with them again one day. Please, little goddess, believe me.”

I want to argue. I want to push. But as I search the dim flames that dance in his eyes, I know I can’t. I know he won't budge. Can’t budge.

I feel my shoulders fall even as I lean forward to press my lips softly to his. “I won’t push.” I can taste his relief as I kiss him again. “Thank you for loving me even when loving me is hard.”

His big hands sink into my hair as he cups the back of my head. “Loving you has never been hard.”

He forgets I have my memories, I think, as I sink into his kiss.

I’m not sure that loving me has ever been anything but hard.