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“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.”

“You are human, and you have been here in Olympus for over a month.”

I frown, confused by his words. “Okay?”

“I’ve not once scented the spilling of your blood.” He inhales deeply again. His chest expanding and deflating with it. “But there is something else I don’t smell.”

“Wh—what?”

“The child you carry.”

All of me turns to ice. Fear unlike any I’ve ever felt erupts inside me, threatening to destroy me. The acrid acid of it violates any feeling of safety I’d felt in knowing the Moirai had cloaked my daughters from the Gods that would harm them.

“Get away from me.”

Ares cocks his head, but I don’t miss the daggers of blood that spear the gold in his eyes. “I’m right.”

“I said get off me.” This time, I make to kick at the God of War. The God who, I know deep down, there is a man of courage and honor. But deeper still, there is the bloodlust that rules him.

I saw it for my own eyes. The switch from man to beast. From God to demon.

He catches me around the ankle, his grip like iron even though I’m aware he’s taking pains not to harm me. “Enough.”

I still at the command, spoken so darkly. A war general. A being of bloodlust and devastation. But lingering in the blood that endlessly needles his calm is an honor I can’t deny exists. I can’t look at Ares and only see what everyone else sees. The monster of war.

I will my body to relax into the mattress, watching in wonder as those spears of red pull back to make way for the gold in his eyes.

“You’re right. I’m pregnant.”

“Hades?” He frowns. I nod, and Ares mumbles, “I didn’t think him capable.”

“He’s not—in his human form.”

Ares’ eyes snap to mine so fast, I flinch. “You—” Horror touched with undeniable interest alights his eyes as he takes me in, slowly tracking the length of my body. “You—in his Gods’ Form you?—”

“We had sex, yes,” I cut him off.

Again, his eyes drift over my body before returning to my own. He breathes. “You’re so small.”

“We fit.”

“But you are human. Alive.” His eyes narrow. “How were you able to withstand the heat of him?”

I soften my voice. “I was made for him, Ares.”

Something flashes across his expression. Pain, I think, but before I can study it, it’s gone. “You love him.”

I’m not sure if it’s a question, but I say, “Yes.”

Ares frowns. “I feel?—”

He pulls back to pace the room. Frustration leaks from him, scenting the air with darkness.

I stand, hugging myself as I press gently, “You feel?”

Ares sighs. “I am confused. I feel drawn to you.” His brows furrow before he scrubs a big hand down his face. “I thought perhaps you were meant for me, then I realized you were with child. His child.”

“Ares,” I call softly. When his eyes come to mine, I can see the play of confusion in the depths.

“There is a soul meant for yours.” As soon as I speak the words, I see the vision of the souls threaded together by the Moirai.

A fate none of us can fight. And I know that attached to the beautiful soul of one of my daughters is the pure white soul of the God of War and Courage. Ares.

I touch my hand to his arm and try not to let it hurt when he flinches. I tell him again, “There is a soul meant for yours, Ares. Bound to yours by the threads of fate. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“You’ve seen the cauldron?” Ares asks hoarsely.

“I have. And I saw your soul.” I touch my belly. “Bound to another.”

His eyes drop, and I know he knows what I’m saying. Horror and disbelief paint his expression as he takes a step away from me. “The child?”

An uncomfortable heat builds inside me. Ares’ eyes flood with red as he looks into mine.

My vision turns white at the edges with a heat I can’t explain, and when I open my mouth, the voices of three sound.

“Fate will come to pass as it is meant to pass, Ares, God of War and Courage. Kings and Gods will fall for new Kings and Gods to rise. The divide between humanity and Gods will narrow, and collective consciousness will grow. Evil will wither and new life will flourish. It has been seen and it will come to pass.”

The white-hot heat fades like mist and I gasp in a breath. Ares looks rather pale as he runs a big hand through his dark curls, never taking those blood-blasted eyes from mine.

I gasp. “I need to return home to the Underworld. And I need you to help me.”

“Anything.” Ares’ voice is impossibly rough. “Anything, Persephone.”