It was one thing to suspect her mother’s involvement, another to have it confirmed.

There were times when Hades wondered how someone could possess this kind of hatred for anyone, but Demeter continued to maintain it for him, and all because the Fates had woven his destiny with Persephone’s. Something he considered a gift was Demeter’s greatest curse.

Persephone stirred, and Hades’s heart raced as she faced him. He recognized how often he had taken this for granted, and he never would again. There was a part of him that was angry he could not simply live in the knowledge that she would be beside him forever.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice quiet.

She smiled, as if she were amused. “Yes. Have you slept?”

“I have been awake for a while,” he said, though he had not slept at all. He reached between them and brushed her lips with the tips of his fingers. “It is a blessing to watch you sleep.”

She shifted closer, and he wrapped his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest.

“Did Tyche make it across the river?” she asked.

“Yes, Hecate was there to greet her. They are very good friends.”

They were silent for a moment, resting in each other’s warmth. He would have liked to stay like this forever, buried beneath Persephone’s weight, but he knew they were running out of time. The attacks on the Divine were escalating, and Persephone was still not able to control her power. He thought of what Hecate had said in the aftermath of the club. She would have been fine had she channeled it correctly.

“I would like to train with you today,” he said.

“I would like that.”

Hades frowned, doubtful. “I don’t think you will.”

He had no intention of making this fun. When she faced him, it would be as if they were enemies on the battlefield.

She would not even know him.

Persephone pulled away to look at him.

“Why do you say that?”

He studied her for a moment, then his eyes fell to her lips.

“Just remember that I love you.”

She shifted on top of him, sliding down his length until she had consumed him. There were no words as they moved together, nothing spoken beyond their quickening breaths. He lost himself in her, knowing that when he surfaced, things might not be the same again.

She was afraid to hurt people.

She could not be afraid to hurt the Divine.

“I will not watch you bleed again,” he said. It was an oath to her, a promise to himself.

“Teach me.”

She thought she knew what she was asking, just as she had the night they’d met in his club.

“I haven’t taught you how to play,” he’d said.

“Then teach me,” she’d replied.

Those words had sealed their fate.

They were responsible for every high and every low he had experienced in his life.

But not even Hades could have guessed that it would lead to this very moment, when he stood opposite his lover, his future wife and queen, with the intention of becoming her enemy.

He hated it, how it made him feel wrong and lent a darkness to his magic he might not use otherwise, but that was what Persephone needed to experience.

Whatever Persephone saw in his expression made her frown.

“You love me,” she said, though he could not tell if she was asking or reminding herself.

“I do,” he said, his guilt as heavy as his magic, which blanketed the air, silencing the Underworld.

Persephone looked around warily, her anxiety spiking her own power. Yet it was not enough, and he mourned that she had not put up enough of a barrier to withstand the wraiths he had summoned.

They formed from shadow, starved for souls, and hunted anything with one—even goddesses. They barreled toward Persephone, nearly imperceptible until they hit, jolting her. It was hard to watch her take the blow, her body moving unnaturally as the wraiths passed through. She fell to the ground, gasping for air.

“Shadow-wraiths are death and shadow magic,” he said. “They are attempting to reap your soul.”

Persephone met his gaze. “Are you…trying to kill me?”

He gave a hollow laugh. There was a part of him that could not believe he was doing this and that she was asking him to.

“Shadow-wraiths cannot claim your soul unless your thread has been cut, but they can make you violently ill.”

Slowly, she rose to her feet.

“If you were fighting any other Olympian—any enemy—they would have never let you up.”

“How do I fight when I do not know what power you will use against me?”

“You will never know,” he said.

It was how they would have to fight the demigods—blindly.

The point was to be prepared for anything.

The hand of a corpse burst from the ground beneath her. Persephone screamed as it took hold of her ankle, yanking her to the ground, dragging her down into its pit, intent on burying her alive.

“Hades!”

He hated how she screamed, hated more how she cried for him, how he had to watch her fingers dig into the dirt as she tried to escape his magic.

He was also frustrated.

She relied on him because he was present when she needed to rely on herself. She was intelligent and capable; she had power raging inside her, power that had turned his own magic against him, and yet she acted like a mortal caught in a spiderweb.

Finally she did something.

She twisted onto her back and tried to claw at the hand, but Hades’s magic was defensive, and as soon as she touched it, spikes shot from the shadowy skin. A cry tore from her mouth, but she swallowed it, and he felt her anger rising.

Yes, darling. That’s it.

Her magic flared, and a thorn burst from her palm. She shoved it into the hand, and it released her. Though she was free of one challenge, he sent another her way. Another wraith flew toward her.

Her body bent back as it passed through her, and Hades felt like her screams were stealing his soul, piece by piece.

He swallowed the bile that had risen in the back of his throat as he approached her, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Better,” he said. “But you gave me your back.”

He stood over, wanting so badly to take her into his arms, to tell her he would protect her from all this, but the truth was, he couldn’t. He had already proven that, so she had to learn.

Her hands shook and she curled them both into fists. He vanished as her magic roared to life and brambles sprouted from the earth around her. It was her attempt at fighting him back, and it had failed.

She got to her hands and knees, glaring at him, her cheeks tearstained.

“Your hand gave away your intentions. Summon your magic with your mind—without movement.”

“I thought you said you would teach me,” she seethed, and it almost felt like she was saying I thought you loved me.

Hades took a painful breath. “I am teaching you. This is what will become of you if you face a god in battle. You must be prepared for anything, for everything.”

She looked miserable, and he felt responsible as she stared down at her hands.

“Up, Persephone. No other god would have waited.”

Her eyes met his, different this time—different even from the night she’d nearly destroyed his realm. That look was the pain of betrayal. This was fury.

As she got to her feet, the ground began to shake, and the earth rose. Hades dispatched his shadows, and he watched both shocked and amazed as they bent to her will, slowing and sliding up her arm, seeping into her skin.

She shuddered for only a moment before her palm uncurled, and her fingers were tipped with black claws.

“Good,” he said.

Persephone’s eyes shifted to him, and she smiled, but it was short-lived before her knees hit the ground. She threw back her head, convulsing as Hades fed her illusions he had crafted from her greatest fears.

This was torture.

He knew that, but it was also warfare, and he was not the only god capable of it. She would have to learn how to perceive the difference, but as he watched her fears unfold, he knew she was already lost—she believed this was reality.

Perhaps he should not have started with Demeter, whose harsh expression filled even him with dread.

“Mother—” Persephone choked, her panic so real, Hades could feel it gripping his lungs, stealing his own breath.

“Kore,” Demeter said, the name Persephone hated most coming out like a curse. She tried to rise, but Demeter was on her, yanking her from the ground. “I knew this day would come. You will be mine. Forever.”

“But the Fates—”

“Have unraveled your destiny.”

Hades’s stomach twisted. It was one of his greatest fears too.

Demeter teleported with Persephone, which only added legitimacy to the illusion, because the scent of her magic permeated the air. Hades watched as Persephone found herself back in the glass greenhouse—her first prison.

She raged inside, kicking and screaming, spewing hatred at her mother, who only regarded her in mocking amusement.

She went silent when everything went dark as she was forced to watch the lives of her friends play out in her absence. The worst of the visions was when Leuce returned to him as a lover. He could barely watch as Persephone’s expression turned to horror. Her fingers curled into fists, her chest heaved, her eyes watered—and then she screamed.

She screamed so loud, she shook.

“Persephone,” he said, but her reality had already shifted, and when Hades witnessed it, he could taste something metallic in the back of his throat.

They were on a burning battlefield, and he lay at Persephone’s feet, speared by her magic.

It reminded him of Katerina’s vision, the one that would come true if the ophiotaurus was slain.

“Hades,” Persephone said, her voice shaking. She fell to her knees beside him as if she had been struck.

“I thought…I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered, and he lifted a trembling hand to her face.

She pressed his palm flat against her cheek. “I’m here,” she whispered and closed her eyes against his touch, until his hand fell away. “Hades!”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with me,” she begged through her tears, taking his face between her hands.

“I cannot,” he said.

“What do you mean you can’t? You can heal yourself. Heal!”

“Persephone,” he whispered. “It’s over.”

“No,” she said, her mouth quivering.

“Persephone, look at me,” he said, desperate for her to see, to hear his final words. “You were my only love—my heart and my soul. My world began and ended with you, my sun, stars, and sky. I will never forget you but I will forgive you.”

“Forgive me?”

It was then she realized what Hades already knew—that she had raged against him and destroyed the Underworld. She had destroyed him.

Was this why she refused to harness her magic? Because she feared this potential? This reality?

Hades had to be honest. He feared this too, and it only got worse as Persephone tried to undo her magic, as she begged Hades to stay.

“No, please. Hades, I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he said slowly. “I love you.”

“Don’t,” she begged. “You said you wouldn’t leave. You promised.”

Persephone’s screams rang in his ears as her visions went dark. Her body went still and then she fell.

Hades hurried to catch her and held her close. She was not out long when her eyes blinked open and met his, glistening as they filled with tears.

“You did well.”

She covered her mouth and then her eyes as she sobbed, her body shaking in his arms.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m here.”

But she only seemed to cry harder. He hated that he could not calm her, and he felt worse when she pulled away and got to her feet.

“Persephone—”

“That was cruel,” she said, standing over him. “Whatever that was, it was cruel.”

“It was necessary. You must learn—”

“You could have warned me. Do you even know what I saw?”

She acted as if it was easy for him to witness too.

“What if the roles had been reversed?”

“They have been reversed,” he snapped. They’d been real for him.

She blanched, looking horrified. “Was that some kind of punishment?”

“Persephone—” That had not been his intention. Fuck. He reached for her, but she took a step away.

“Don’t.” She put her hands up. “I need time. Alone.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s your choice,” she said.

She took a deep, shaky breath, as if she were gathering the courage to go, and when she did, Hades let out his own frustrated cry.