Page 19

“I remember, Hades. I remember before.” I pull in breath as Alastor continues deeper into the heart of the city. “I remember you biting me when we would—when we would have sex.”

There is a long moment of silence before Hades clears his throat. “My Gods’ Form demands blood for many things, Persephone.”

“Demands?”

“Yes, demands.”

“But you don’t demand it from me…”

“No.” Another pause. “Blood must be given. Offered. Willing. If it is not, it is rancid.”

“But—” I frown, remembering the first moment we were together.

When he stole me from the garden of flowers in which Demeter had planted me, knowing that he would scent me.

Knowing his soul would crave mine. Knowing the madness would strike him, and he would take me.

“But you didn’t ask me that first time. I remember the way you bit me.

The pain and then the—well, the pleasure. ”

“You felt pleasure when I bit you that first time?” His surprise is hesitant.

“I—I think I did,” I admit as I sift through the memories that are so distant. So ancient. Even as they are my own, they are draped in the haze of a far away past. “It hurt but it was…I don’t know. I can’t explain.”

“Your blood should have been rancid. It should have spoiled inside my belly, but it didn’t. It never turned rancid, even in all the years that followed.”

“Why do you drink blood?” I ask. “Is it purely sexual?”

“No, it’s not usually sexual at all.”

“It isn’t?” I twist again to peer up at him.

He shakes his head. “No. Blood is how I seal deals of the soul.”

“Deals of the soul?”

“When a soul makes a deal with me, I demand it be done in blood. Blood binds both sides of the contract. It holds me and the soul who dares make a deal with me accountable.”

“What happens if they break a deal?”

“If a God breaks a deal, they will slowly drain of blood. Withering away but never dying. Their power will wane.”

“And a human?”

“If a human breaks a deal, they will die.”

I hesitate, but ask, “And if you break the deals you make?”

“I am careful in how I word my deals such that I will not break them. But if I did, the blood I consumed would turn rancid. It would become poison inside me in which I would struggle to expunge, if I could purge it at all.”

I nibble my lip in thought. “But you drank from me without making a deal.”

“My Gods’ Form craves blood, Persephone. It is a decadent,” he pauses. “ Treat . The blood of a God offers a surge of power inside me. The blood of a human or nymph is more an aphrodisiac.”

“But I was a Goddess when you drank from me.”

“Your blood was always different. I was always compelled to drink from you.”

“But you’re not anymore?” I frown, oddly stung by the thought that he might not desire to drink from me.

There is a pause and then, “Does that make you unhappy?”

“I don’t know,” I lie, and then I admit, “Yes…?”

Hades’ chuckle is dark. “I have wanted to taste your blood more than once. Every time I am inside you, I long to sink my teeth deep into your skin and drink. But you are human. As much as you might dislike to admit it, you are fragile.”

We pass another statue in the likeness of Hades, carved in stone.

There have been many. In the upper parts of the city, he was alone.

Wandering. Lost. As Alastor continues lower and lower more and more statues appear, dotting the streets, sitting before temples.

I stiffen, because this is the first statue I’ve seen that is not of Hades, God of the Underworld. It’s of me.

A girl in a field of flowers. Sweet. Innocent. Unaware.

I can’t look away, twisting as Alastor passes the lantern lit statue.

“Was that—was that me?”

“Yes.” Hades’ voice is stone cold sober.

We continue, and I am alarmed when, yet another statue comes into view. This one is of Hades bursting up from the earth, four horses drenched in black pulling an onyx chariot tear into a garden. The girl goddess is struck with terror as Hades reaches for her.

Words abandon me as we pass the statue only to come to another.

The statue comes alive as the memory plays in my mind.

Hades holds me high in his arms. There is madness in his eyes as grief leaks from my own.

I’m stretching for escape—for the living realm in which I was stolen.

His fingertips dig into my flesh, wild hunger a threat to all that I’d ever been.

“Hades…” Alastor fumbles his step at the pain in my voice.

“Continue, Alastor,” Hades commands.

I swallow the lump of emotion that burns in my throat.

And we finally come to it. The statue at the end.

The one where Hades drinks from me deeply.

He is in his Gods’ Form, cradling my lifeless body in his arms. The contrast between the two stones that were used to craft this image is shocking.

Obsidian black and opal white. Hades and me.

But in the center, thin ribbons of white spill from my chest to feather into the black of Hades’ chest. My soul.

“What is this?” I gasp as Alastor stops, giving us time to study the foretelling of a future I am terrified to face. For I know this has not yet come to pass.

“This is me taking your soul.”

I shiver, frowning. “Why would you do that?”

“To protect you. To bind you to the Underworld.” Hades’ pitch lowers. “To make you immortal.”

“But my soul is immortal.”

“Your body is human.” Hades holds me tenderly. “Vulnerable. You are alive, Persephone, in the Underworld.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This must come to pass, if you are to remain my queen. If you are to remain safe.” His voice lowers. “I need you to agree. For you to be willing.”

“What—what happens if I agree?” I search his eyes. “What happens if I give you my soul?”

“You will forever live with me in the Underworld.”

I relax, smiling. “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

His eyes darken. “You will be bound, eternally, to the Underworld.”

“Okay…”

“Persephone, when you give me your soul, you will never again leave this realm. Never visit earth. Never?—”

“I understand,” I cut him off. Quieter, I repeat, “I understand.”

“This is the only way I can keep you with me. The only way I can ensure your safety.”

I look back to the statue, frowning as I consider the art. “When was this statue carved?”

“It rose from the earth the day you were murdered. I’ve had many centuries to ponder its meaning.”

“But my soul is already connected to yours.”

“It is.” He nods. “But you are still human. The only way I can make you a Goddess, make you immortal with me, is if you give me your soul to protect for eternity. To bind it not only to the Underworld, but to my own.”

“I was a goddess before, Hades,” I say gently. “And I was still murdered.”

“You were.” Hades nods. “But like Atropos said, she did not completely cut the cord of your life. As a Goddess, fraying the cord was possible, and it was that fraying that allowed you to be born again. The same way our daughters’ cords will be frayed.

If you die again as a human, I’m not certain what will happen to you. ”

“I—I need to think about this.”

His eyes shutter slowly before opening again. “I understand, little goddess. But please, don’t take too long.”