Page 42

Chapter

Thirty-Six

P ersephone

“Oh, you’re awake.”

I wasn’t, not really, but I certainly am now. I’m not sure I’ve ever slept so deeply in all my life. My body is heavy with the weight that clings to it. Shallow breaths stretch my lungs, and I cough a raspy sound. I feel as though I haven’t used my lungs in days.

What happened?

I try to sit and the heavy ache spreads from my torso into my limbs. I groan.

The feminine voice I’d heard before sounds suddenly closer. “It’s worse if you rush it.”

“Rush—” I croak, cough, try again. “What?”

“Waking up after—after the arena.”

I groan again, letting myself fall back to the bed.

Memories of the arena come rushing back one after another.

I see the table of monsters, watch Ares be tossed into the pit of death.

I see his transformation, and the way he refused to fight the souls of the gladiators, eternally captive for the pleasures of Zeus and his diabolical cabinet of monsters just like him.

I see Ares break, snap, submit to the bloodlust.

“A-A-res?” I croak.

There is a rustling and I fight to open my heavy eyes in time to see the girl I’d first seen in the arena. The one who lost her father to the prison of gladiators.

The one I’d gone with Ares to give to Hephaestus.

That’s when I remember shooting through the air, clinging to Ares as he flew, trembling and weak and bloody, to the mountain shelter. I remember gravel cutting into skin. Ares wasn’t moving.

Was he breathing?

I remember the door, falling against it. Nothing.

“Ares is fine. Hephaestus is good at putting broken things back together.” She sets a cup down beside the bed before tugging gently at my shoulders, puffing my pillows.

“Here.” Cool glass touches my lips, cooler water sliding over my dry tongue.

“Slow, now.” She pulls the glass back and I cough again.

“Where is he?”

“Let’s focus on you.” She pulls a chair closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Only two days.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and I note that her bruising is mostly gone. The blood crusted in her hair washed away.

She looks healthy .

“Two days,” I breathe. I try to recall if I’d dreamed with Hades at all, but there is only black.

“You were beyond exhausted.” She swipes a mug from the table and brings it to her lips. I smell the familiar scent of coffee and nearly groan. She laughs. “Do you want some?”

“You’re the girl we brought here.”

Her smile softens. “Yeah. Hephaestus told me.”

I nod. “You wouldn’t remember me. You were…”

“Dead?” I’m pretty sure I pale because she laughs lightly. “It’s terrible what happened. But I’m okay. Or I’m getting there.” She looks down into her mug. “Sleep is hard.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, you saved me.” When I frown, she adds, “I know I would have become another slave in that awful castle if you and Ares hadn’t brought me here to Hephaestus.

” When she says his name, a delicate bloom of pink flushes her cheeks.

“He’s putting me back together, too.” She leans in just a bit.

“But I kind of think I’m finding pieces of him, as well. ”

“How did it—how did you?—”

“How did I end up here?” she finishes for me.

She answers before I can do so much as nod.

“I graduated from school to be a vet tech. I’ve always wanted to work with animals, always loved them.

My dad,” her voice breaks. “We lost my mom when I was young. It’s always just been the two of us, and it’s kind of always been hard.

He works a lot. As a cop, he’s always worked long hours.

” She waves her hand. “I’m getting off topic.

Anyway, Dad always promised he’d take me anywhere I wanted to go when I graduated.

” She shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to see Italy.

And I’ve always been interested in the Roman Gods.

Jupiter, the Roman God of the sky, thunder and lightning, has always been a fascination of mine.

We were in a church in Rome when it happened—” Her face scrunches in concentration.

“Everything around us got blurry and I swore I saw Jupiter.”

“It was Zeus.”

She nods sadly. “I know that now.”

“Then what happened?”

“We were taken to a cell, me and Dad. Then the guards came in dressed like they were from some ancient movie. No one would talk to us, tell us what was happening. Dad tried to fight them, but he couldn’t. We were taken to the arena where…”

“I saw that part,” I tell her softly.

Her chin quivers with emotion. “The winner took me back to his room and—and that was it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

God, her eyes are so sad for a moment. She blinks it away and smiles a breakable smile. “My name is Melody, by the way.”

“Persephone.”

“I can’t believe you’re the Persephone. I mean, I was always more interested in the Roman version of the Gods, but now that I know they’re all the same. Gosh, your story isn’t a whole lot better than mine. You were abducted young and, and…”

She can’t say it. Can’t speak the terrible word that was done to her by the gladiator who took the life of her father. Who stole her innocence before stealing her life and fating her to an eternity in this hideous realm.

I clear my throat. “My story isn’t what people think it is.”

Her brows drift together, and she takes another sip of her coffee. “I suppose it isn’t.” She blows a breath from between her cheeks. “I never imagined Zeus was the cruel God. The one we should truly fear.”

“Hades is—” I cough, and Melody jumps up with my water again. I take a drink, longer this time. “Hades is loving, Melody. He’s loving to me and he’s loving to the souls he cares for in the Underworld. He’s nothing like the myths paint him.”

“So, there is more than this to the afterlife, then?”

I give her a slow, hesitant nod. “For those who die in the living realm, yes.”

She dips her chin to her chest. “I know I’m trapped here for eternity. But I’m happy to know that most of us—that we go somewhere where we are loved.”

“Yeah.”

We fall into heavy silence until my belly rumbles.

Melody jumps to her feet, and I flinch. “Of course, you must be starving. I’ll get you food.”

I push up in the bed. “Can I come with you?”

Her eyes narrow, then soften. “If you’re sure you can manage?”

“I wasn’t hurt in the arena.”

“Just because your body wasn’t hurt doesn’t mean your soul was left untouched,” she says matter of fact, but takes my hand in hers anyway.