CHAPTER XXIX: A TORTURE LIKE NO OTHER

CHAPTER XXIX – A TORTURE LIKE NO OTHER

It was a week later when Aphrodite arrived to see him unexpectedly. Granted, she never arrived with notice, but Hades thought she would come closer to the end of their six-month deadline, which was now weeks away.

Hades sat behind his desk at The Cypress Foundation, finalizing a few small details for the Halcyon Project before handing it over to Katerina He had a hard time concentrating, thinking that the last time he had been stuck behind a desk, he had been more preferably engaged with Persephone.

He’d have liked to have her here now and chuckled at the thought of teleporting her to him. Would she be in the middle of writing a story or in an important meeting? Would she be angry for long when he took her mouth in a searing kiss? When his hands skimmed up her thighs, when his fingers teased her opening and he finally gave her what she begged for—release.

“You win,” Aphrodite said. She looked more severe than usual. Even when she was angry, she didn’t have this…look. It was hard for Hades to place at first, but he soon recognized it for what it was because he had felt the same thing multiple times in the last six months.

Hysteria.

“She loves you.”

Hades’ brows knitted together.

“What are you talking about?”

“I visited her today, your little love,” the goddess explained.

His stomach suddenly felt endless. He rose from his chair, his anger coiled like a snake.

“What did you do, Aphrodite?” His voice shook as dread descended, cloaking his body. He felt as if he were trying to breath with no air.

“I only meant to gauge her affection for you. I—”

“What did you do?” he snarled.

“I told her about the bargain.”

“Fuck!”

Hades slammed his fists on his pristine table. This time, it shattered. Aphrodite’s eyes widened, but she stood her ground and did not flinch at his outburst.

“Why?” he demanded. “Is this revenge for Adonis?”

“It began that way,” she admitted, looking surprisingly devastated.

“And how did it end, Aphrodite?”

“I broke her heart.”

***

“Where is she?” Hades demanded as he teleported to the Underworld. He was not calm enough to sense her yet. He appeared in the middle of his palace, where his staff were meandering, oblivious to his agony, his fear, the potential end to the happiest he had ever been.

He had known this would be a possibility, but he had been grossly unprepared, because at the end of it all, he loved her.

“Persephone! Where is she?”

“Sh-She went for a walk, my lord,” a nymph said.

“She was following Cerberus,” another added.

“Toward Tartarus.”

Fuck.

He vanished and appeared on the outskirts of Tartarus. This part of his realm was vast and covered hundreds upon hundreds of acres. Why would she come here? he thought as he attempted to focus on finding her, rather than his racing heart and the dread boiling in the pit of his stomach.

He’d told her from the beginning he did not want her to know the path to Tartarus, that her curiosity would get the best of her. Had she heard Aphrodite’s words and sought to prove herself right about him? Perhaps she had come in hopes that she would find something to prove he was just as cruel and calculated as she thought.

Well, she would find it here.

It wasn’t long before he felt her—a faint pull at the edge of his senses.

She was in The Cavern, the oldest part of Tartarus. When he appeared there, he felt her presence strengthen and he knew where he’d find her.

In Tantalus’ cave.

Disgust curled in Hades gut.

Tantalus was a king, a demi-god born of Zeus, and among the first generation of mortals to populate the Earth. Gifted with Zeus’ particular brand of arrogance, he thought to test the gods by committing filicide. The wicked king killed his son, Pelops, ground him to a pulp and attempted to feed him to the Olympians. Hades remembered the smell of burnt flesh wafting through the Great Hall. The merriment had ended immediately, and their wrath had been swift. Hades had stood, pointed at Tantalus, and sent him straight to Tartarus, while the others attempted to assemble Pelops again.

That had not been the end of Tantalus’ punishment, either, as Zeus had cursed his legacy, the impact of which was still felt to this day.

Hades made his way into the darkness that blanketed the cave, where Tantalus had lived and suffered for an eternity. He saw Persephone race toward him, terror written across her beautiful face. She slammed into him, and he grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

“No! Please—” Her voice broke, full of fear and his emotions raged.

“Persephone,” Hades said quickly, trying to calm her.

When she looked at him, recognition and relief descended upon her face.

“Hades!”

Her arms tightened around his waist. She buried her head in his chest and sobbed.

“Shh.” His kissed her hair, thankful that she still touched him, that she still found comfort in his presence. “What are you doing here?”

Then he heard Tantalus’ voice cut through the dark and Hades’ blood turned to ice.

“Where are you, little bitch?”

Hades set Persephone aside and approached the grotto where Tantalus was imprisoned, snapping his fingers so that the pillar where Tantalus was chained turned. The man was a sack of bones, loose skin sagging over sharp angles. He was pale and withered, his hair scraggly and matted, like wire coming out of his face and head.

He had not looked upon the prisoner in years, as his method of torture tended to take care of itself, starvation and thirst while always being within reach of food and water. Except that Hades knew he had partaken of drink because his lips, drained of color, glistened.

Hades flung his hand toward Tantalus, and the mortal’s knees gave out, pulling the manacles that held his arms overhead tight, and he cried out.

“My goddess was kind to you,” Hades hissed. “And this is how you repay her?”

Hades closed his fist, and Tantalus heaved, spitting up the water Persephone had given him until there was nothing left to vomit. Then he parted the water in the grotto, creating a dry path straight to the prisoner. The wicked king struggled to find his footing, pressing his feet flat against the column to which he was chained. Hades enjoyed watching him struggle. It eased the burden of his anger and his wish to see this mortal meet a violent end.

“You deserve to feel as I have felt—desperate and starved and alone!” Tantalus spit out as Hades approached.

Hades’ hand closed over the man’s neck.

“How do you know I haven’t felt like that for centuries, mortal?” he said quietly, his voice deadly in its tone. It promised punishment and pain, it promised all of the things Tantalus claimed he felt now, but worse.

His glamour melted away, and he stood before his prisoner in his Divine form as he had in the past.

“You are an ignorant mortal,” Hades said, his magic bubbling under the surface. “Before, I was merely your jailor, but now I shall be your punisher, and I think my judges were too merciful. I’ll curse you with an unquenchable hunger and thirst. I’ll even put you within reach of food and water, but everything you partake of will be fire in your throat.”

Hades dropped Tantalus, and he hit the stone pillar with an audible thud. It did nothing to deter the mortal, who growled like an animal and attempted to lunge for him, snapping his teeth. The feral attempt at an attack only amused Hades, and earned him a slot on his own victim’s list.

Hades snapped his fingers, sending the prisoner to wait in his office. After, he turned to Persephone.

He had never seen her look like this before—wide-eyed, small, shaky. She took a step away from him and slipped. Hades lunged forward to catch her before she could hit the ground, free of water since he still stood in the middle of the parted lake.

“Persephone.” Saying her name hurt his chest. “Please don’t fear me. Not you.”

Her eyes watered, and she broke, crying into his robes. His grip on her tightened, and yet, though he held her close, he felt that she was far away, and he realized that this was what it was to be on the brink of losing everything.

Still, he thought, if I hold her long enough, if I give her long enough, maybe I could hold her together, maybe I could hold us together.

He teleported to his room, where he sat near the fire, hoping she would warm enough to stop shivering, but she didn’t. He grew frustrated and gathered her against him, heading to the baths.

When they arrived, he lowered her to the floor. He drew her finger beneath her chin and tilted her head to meet his gaze. He wanted her to speak, to say something—anything—but she remained quiet. The only thing that gave him hope was that she did not protest as he undressed her or as he cradled her against him and carried her into the water.

“You are unwell,” he said after he could no longer stand the silence between them. “Did he…hurt you?”

He asked because he had to be sure.

Her answer was to squeeze her eyes shut, something he never knew could hurt his heart so badly.

“Tell me,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her forehead. “Please.”

She opened her eyes, glistening with tears.

“I know about Aphrodite, Hades,” she said. “I’m no more than a game to you.”

Those words made him angry. She had never been a game. In truth, he had rarely thought of the bargain with Aphrodite since it had begun. No, it had always been more than that. It had become a quest to see her power, to show her what it meant to be Divine, to convince her that she could be a queen.

“I have never considered you a game, Persephone.”

“The contract—”

“This has nothing to do with the contract!”

He released her, and as Persephone struggled to straighten, her reply was venomous.

“This has everything to do with the contract! Gods, I was so stupid! I let myself think you were good, even with the possibility of being your prisoner.”

“Prisoner? You would think yourself a prisoner here? Have I treated you so poorly?”

“A kind jailor is still a jailor,” Persephone snapped.

“If you considered me your warden, why did you fuck me?”

“It was you who foretold this.” Her voice shook. “And you were right—I did enjoy it, and now that it’s done, we can move on.”

“Move on?” He was rage incarnate, and his whole body shook. Was she speaking like this because her mother had caught them? “Is that what you want?”

“We both know it’s for the best.”

“I’m beginning to think you don’t know anything,” he said, stalking toward her. “I’m beginning to understand that you don’t even think for yourself.”

How had they gotten here? Where was the woman who had grown confident among his people? The woman who had waited for him, naked, in his office? The woman who had made a home in his heart?

“How dare you—”

“How dare I what, Persephone? Call out your bullshit? You act so powerless, but you’ve never made a damn decision for yourself. Will you let your mother determine who you fuck now?”

“Shut up!”

“Tell me what you want.” He cornered her, pinning her against the edge of the pool.

She didn’t look at him.

“Tell me!” Hades commanded.

“Fuck you!”

She was fierce, and her eyes were alight. She leveraged herself against him, legs around his waist. She kissed him hard, and he took every bit of it. He held her in place, hands spanning her back and bottom. He sat her on the edge of the pool, intending to go down on her, to taste her anger and her desire raging between her legs, but she clawed at him.

“No, I want your cock inside me,” she said. “Now.”

He obliged, practically jumping out of the pool. She pushed him on his back, wrapped her hand around his sex, and guided him inside her, filling herself full of him until her bottom touched his balls. He groaned, hands digging into her skin.

“Move fucking faster,” he commanded. They were both angry and goading the other, and inside, Hades felt his magic rising. It was calling to hers, the darkness teasing the light.

“Shut up,” she snapped, glaring down at him.

Hades responded by squeezing her breasts, rising to suck her nipples. Persephone moaned, and held him to her, legs tightening around his waist. He could barely catch his breath, but he encouraged her. He would lose his mind to her.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Use me. Harder. Faster.”

He came with a roar and covered her mouth with his, but the ecstasy was short-lived as she pushed him away and stood, leaving him sitting on the cold marble. She gathered her belongings and hurried up the stairs. Hades followed after her.

“Persephone!”

As she walked, she pulled on her clothes. He hurried to catch up with her, exposed in the hallway outside the baths.

“Fuck!”

When he reached her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the throne room. He shut the door, and pushed her into it, caging her with his arms. She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“I want to know why!” she demanded, her voice was thick with tears, and Hades hated that he had caused this pain. Hated that he was the reason she was broken, but he sensed something else inside her, something powerful waking the angrier she became. “Was I an easy target? Did you look at my soul and see someone who was desperate for love, for worship? Did you choose me because you knew I couldn’t fulfill the terms of your bargain?

“It wasn’t like that.”

It was something so completely different. If he could only explain, but he didn’t want to start with the Fates because even though they had woven her into his future, he would have still wanted her. When he looked at her, he saw her power, he saw her compassion, he saw his queen.

“Then tell me what it was!”

“Yes, Aphrodite and I have a contract, but the bargain I struck with you had nothing to do with it. I offered you terms based on what I saw in your soul—a woman caged by her own mind.” He knew what he said next would piss her off, but she needed to hear it. “You are the one who called the contract impossible, but you are powerful, Persephone.”

“Do not mock me.”

“I would never.”

She snarled, “Liar.”

There were few things he hated more than that word.

“I am many things, but a liar I am not.”

“Not a liar then, but a self-admitted deceiver.”

“I have only ever given you answers,” he said, growing angrier by the second. “I have helped you reclaim your power, and yet you haven’t used it. I have given you a way to walk out from underneath your mother, and yet you will not claim it.”

“How? What did you do to help me?”

“I worshipped you!” he snapped. “I gave you what your mother withheld—worshippers.”

If Demeter had introduced Persephone to society upon her birth, her powers would have blossomed, she would have had alters built and temples erected in her name, she would have risen in the ranks, surpassing Olympians in popularity. Of that, he was certain.

She blinked up at him.

“You mean to tell me you forced me into a contract when you could have just told me I needed worshippers to gain my powers?”

It was not that simple, and she knew it. She had rejected Divinity as if it were the plague. He did not believe she would have done anything with that knowledge but hide, fearing the unknown.

“It’s not about powers, Persephone! It’s never been about magic or illusion or glamour. It’s about confidence. It’s about believing in yourself!”

“That’s twisted, Hades—”

“Is it?” he said, cutting her off. He did not wish to hear her tell him how terrible he was, how deceptive he was, how much of a liar he was. “Tell me, if you’d known, what would you have done? Announced your Divinity to the whole world so that you might gain a following and consequently, your power?” She knew the answer, and so did he. “No, you’ve never been able to decide what you want, because you value your mother’s happiness over your own!”

“I had freedom until you, Hades.”

“You thought you were free before me?” he asked, leaning toward her. “You just traded glass walls for another kind of prison when you came to New Athens.”

“Why don’t you keep telling me how pathetic I am?” she spat.

“That’s not what I—”

“Isn’t it? Let me tell you what else makes me pathetic. I fell for you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His heart felt like it was suffocating in his chest. She looked as devastated as he felt, and he wanted to touch her, but she pushed away vehemently, putting distance between them. “Don’t!”

He did as she asked, though his whole body wanted to deny her request. The only thing he wanted to do was be near her, because she loved him. Because he loved her.

He should tell her.

But she was so angry and hurt.

“What would Aphrodite have gotten if you had failed?”

He did not want to answer, because he knew what she would think. At this moment, she felt as if everything Demeter had taught her was true. She would think that Hades would do anything to keep his people in his realm, even deceive her, but he answered anyway.

“She asked that one of her heroes be returned to the living.”

A request he would happily grant if it meant she would stay.

“Well, you won. I love you,” she said, and he wanted to collapse. “Was it worth it?”

“It wasn’t like that, Persephone!” he said, desperate for her to understand, and as she turned from him, he asked, “You would believe Aphrodite’s words over my actions?”

She paused and faced him, and he could see that her body shook, could feel her power racing in her blood. He could smell her magic, and it was heavenly, a scent so unlike anything he had experienced. It was distinctly her—a warm mix of vanilla and sunshine and fresh spring air. But she said nothing, and he shook his head, disappointed in her inability to understand this situation, her worth, her power.

“You are your own prisoner.”

Those words broke her open. He saw it the moment the last syllable fell. There was a loud rushing in his ears akin to a scream, and great, black vines shot through the floor, tangling around his arms and wrists like restraints. He was shocked; her power had come to life and it had been directed at him.

She had created life.

In the aftermath, she breathed deep, chest heaving. He would have liked to commend her, celebrate her, love her. This was her potential, a taste of the magic inside her, but it had taken her anger to unleash it.

He tested the restraints; they were strong and tightened as he pulled, as vengeful as she was in her anger. He met her gaze and laughed humorlessly. Looking at her was like seeing his death, a day he thought would never come.

“Well, Lady Persephone. It looks like you won.”