Chapter XXVII

Chapter XXVII

A Proposal

Hades left Olympia for Nevernight. The only thing that quelled his frustration toward his brother was thinking about what he had planned for Persephone this evening. He’d decided to show her a little more of the Underworld and, in the process, himself. He hoped it would be healing and perhaps lay a foundation so that he could share more things—harder things—but those thoughts were put on hold as he appeared on the floor of Nevernight and knew he was not alone.

Hera.

He turned to face the goddess.

“Hades,” she purred.

“No,” Hades said.

He was done with her and her labors. The goddess looked stunned for a second before her cheeks grew flushed with anger.

“You forget you are under my control,” she said. “I decide your future with your beloved Persephone.”

“I would think carefully on how you decide my fate, Hera,” Hades said. “Because I decide yours.”

She blanched. “What do you mean?”

“I was not eager to get involved when you decided you wanted to overthrow Zeus again, but since then, I have learned of your alliance with Theseus, and now I have no other choice but to choose a side.”

Her eyes darkened. “Are you saying you are with Zeus?”

“No,” he replied. “I am on no one’s side but my own.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she said through her teeth. “Your only loyalty is to yourself.”

“Wrong,” Hades said. “I am extremely loyal to those I care about, though you are not one of them. Perhaps you could say the same if you truly cared for anyone.”

She lifted her head. “So what are you going to do now? Tell Zeus? Have him hang me from the sky?”

“No,” he said. “But I want your favor in exchange for the secret, and I’d like to cash it in now.”

“Let me guess. You want my blessing for your marriage?”

“I don’t just want your blessing,” Hades said. “I want you to defend it.”

The goddess swallowed hard, and Hades knew she was weighing her options. She had been punished by Zeus before for her insolence, but this was different and she knew it. She’d helped Theseus kill three deities, and it was likely when Zeus found out about her involvement with Theseus, he’d call forth the Furies to enact Divine retribution. The only reason Hades had not done so was because only Zeus could punish his queen.

“Fine,” Hera said at last. “You have my blessing.”

Hades did not thank her. Instead, he started toward the stairs but paused to look upon her once more before offering a final warning.

“This is not a war you survive, Hera.”

It would be up to her to believe him or not.

* * *

Hades returned to the Underworld and changed into the clothes Hermes had left for him. He had almost dreaded asking for help, knowing the god would react with an overwhelming amount of enthusiasm—and Hades had not been wrong—though Hermes had made him work for it.

“You need my help?” he’d asked.

“Yes, Hermes,” Hades had said, frustrated. “I need your help.”

“With fashion.”

Hades did not consider this fashion. He was asking to be dressed down, and those were clothes he did not own. Still, he knew Hermes would not appreciate that.

“Yes,” he hissed, trying to remain calm.

“Hmm. I may be able to pencil you in…though, I am always willing to do favors for my best friends.”

Hades glared, and Hermes raised his brows.

“Persephone is your best friend. This is for her.”

“But Persephone admits she’s my best friend,” Hermes said.

“Does it mean as much when I say it?”

“It’s like saying I love you,” Hermes explained. “I might know it, but it’s good to hear.”

There was a long pause, then Hades mumbled, “You’re my best friend.”

“What was that?” Hermes asked. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“You’re my best friend,” Hades repeated quickly.

“Ah, once more, with feeling .”

Hades glared and said deliberately, “You’re my best friend.”

Hermes preened. “I’ll have something for you by the evening.”

And he had held to his word, leaving a black shirt, pants, and a pair of riding boots for the evening. Once he was changed, Hades went to the library, where he waited for Persephone to return to the Underworld.

Luckily, he did not have to wait long, though when she spotted him, she halted, as if surprised.

“What are you wearing?” she asked at seeing his outfit, a smile curving her pretty lips.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Those pants are definitely a surprise.”

The corner of Hades’s mouth lifted, despite not knowing how to take her reaction. Did she like these clothes? Perhaps he should have just worn his suit, though riding horseback would have been decidedly uncomfortable. He decided not to ask and instead reached for her hand.

“Come.”

He led her outside, where Alastor and Aethon waited for them. Of his four sable-black horses, these two could not be more opposite. Aethon was impatient and dreaded being locked in the stables at night. Alastor was far more calm, and he preferred being alone. Despite this, Hades knew he was the best horse for Persephone due to his loyal and gentle nature.

“Oh, they’re beautiful,” Persephone said, and the horses liked her praise, snorting and bobbing their heads. Hades didn’t blame them—he felt the same beneath her approval.

“They say thank you,” he said with a laugh. “Would you like to ride?”

“Yes!” she said with more enthusiasm than he expected, but it made him happy. Then she hesitated. “But…I’ve never…”

“I’ll teach you,” he said quickly and once again took her hands, guiding her forward.

“This is Alastor.”

“Alastor,” she said and stroked his nose. Alastor lowered even more, urging her to scratch his head. Persephone giggled and obeyed. “You are magnificent.”

Aethon gave an envious bray.

“Careful,” Hades warned. “Aethon will be jealous.”

Persephone smirked and reached to pet Aethon too. “Oh, you are both magnificent.”

“Careful, I might get jealous,” Hades said, then took up Alastor’s reins. “Put your foot in the stirrup,” he instructed Persephone. “Lift yourself up and swing your leg over, then sit down gently.”

She followed as he advised, and once she was seated, he continued.

“If you become afraid, sink your weight, lean back, and firm up your legs, but my steeds will listen if you speak. Tell them to stop, they will stop. Tell them to slow down, they will slow down.”

“You taught them?” she asked, holding the reins in one hand while petting Alastor’s mane.

He mounted Aethon and answered “Yes,” though it was not difficult. The four steeds were Divine, and they had been together for a long time. They knew Hades’s moods just as well as he knew theirs. He did not even need to speak. “Don’t worry. Alastor knows what he carries. He will take care of you.”

They started slow, wandering into the fields and gardens beyond the palace. Alastor and Aethon ambled side by side. Hades could not help watching Persephone as she rode, her hands wrapped gracefully around the reins, her hair catching beneath the light of his realm. She was beautiful and happy and beaming . It made his heart beat almost erratically.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” she said.

An excitement shivered through him as he answered, “This isn’t the end.”

They wandered through Hecate’s green meadow, where Alastor and Aethon only briefly became distracted by the goddess’s wild mushrooms before they were redirected, heading around the ominous mountains of Tartarus.

“How was your day?” It wasn’t a question Hades asked often, mostly because he didn’t want the same asked of him. He never had a good answer anyway, but it always presented more ways for him to omit the truth, and that only made him feel more guilty for the things he felt he had to hide—the truth of him and his life. Asking now was progress—a way to start anew and be more transparent.

“Good,” Persephone said and paused before adding, “Lexa’s been making coffee in the mornings. It isn’t how she used to do it, but I think it’s a sign she’s going to be okay.”

Hades said nothing, knowing there was still so much uncertainty around Lexa’s livelihood. Just getting her out of the hospital had been a feat. Now that she was home, she’d have to face the reality of routine, and sometimes that was harder than the confinement of a hospital.

Persephone did not ask him about his day, and he wondered if she saw the point, if she assumed he would not be honest.

They continued along, winding through landscapes that changed from mountainous to forested to fields of purple and pink flowers. Against the backdrop of the darkened mountains, which mostly housed prisoners of Tartarus, they looked aflame.

“How often do you…change the Underworld?” she asked.

“I wondered when you’d ask me that question.”

She raised a brow. “Well?”

“Whenever I feel like it,” he answered. Sometimes he changed it when a deity left just in case they thought they could find their way back. Mostly, though, he expanded his realm. He created new spaces within Asphodel for the souls, because as the world changed above, so did their needs below. Elysium was another challenge and often evolved because each soul was there to heal. Outside of that, his world changed as he wished—and it would soon change as Persephone wished.

“Perhaps when my magic isn’t so terrifying, I will try.”

“Darling, there is nothing I’d like more.”

The field they had crossed narrowed to a path that cut between more forested mountains. They were just on the other side of Tartarus, close to Elysium. The same solitude that blanketed the air there also reached here, and Hades could feel it settle on his heart, a pleasing calm that he had not felt in a long while. They were near their destination, and when he heard the waterfall, Hades stopped to dismount, then came to Persephone’s side. As she threw her leg over, Hades gripped her waist and helped her slide off the horse. He kept his hands on her even after her feet were on the ground.

“You look beautiful today,” he said, staring down at her. “Have I told you?”

“Not yet,” she said, smiling and rocking onto the tips of her toes. “Tell me again.”

He answered by kissing her, hands tangling into her hair. During their ride, his body had grown warm, and now he was boiling, but as eager as he was to channel this heat, to release it into her, he pulled away and nuzzled her nose, whispering once more, “You’re beautiful, my darling.”

He led her through the tree line to a spot in the mountains where water ran off the rocks into a shallow and shimmering lake, and though the muted light of Hades’s sky cut through parts of the canopy above, they were mostly in shadow.

Beside him, Persephone’s breath caught in her throat, and she spoke, awed. “Hades…how gorgeous.”

But he had never stopped staring at her, and when she finally looked at him, they came together once more, their mouths colliding. Hades’s hands slid around her body, holding her hips in place as he rolled into her, his length trapped between them, hard and throbbing.

“Hades,” she whispered as his mouth left hers long enough to remove their clothes. He lowered them both to the ground, where he worshipped her body with his mouth. He loved every part of her—her heavy breasts, her stomach, and the space between her thighs—and when they were both wound tight, he settled his arousal against her and rocked his hips forward.

Sliding into her was an out-of-body experience, and she was there, swelling and gripping, and he froze, his forearms braced on either side of her face. For a moment, she was still, her head back, chin tilted up, but then she seemed to relax, release her breath, and open her eyes.

Their eyes met, and all Hades could see when he looked at her was his queen.

“Marry me,” he whispered as her finger traced his face, and though he had asked her twice before, this time felt different. It felt right , and he guessed it was for her too, because she answered with a quiet “Yes.”

They smiled at each other, and he kissed her before he moved, thrusting deep, and she arched beneath him. There was a part of him that felt almost powerful as she writhed—powerful but humbled, because she let him in. She let him drive her toward release, and after he came, he noticed that tears welled in her eyes.

He bent to kiss them, whispering as he did. “My darling, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” she said and reached to wipe her eyes, laughing once more.

Hades thought he understood a little of what she was feeling—a happiness that went beyond anything he had ever known. As much as he felt being here was a victory, he also felt like he had more to lose.

“I love you,” he said and carried her into the water, where they bathed.

After, they dressed and headed for the palace.

Unlike their ride to the waterfall, their return was quiet. For the first time in a long while, Hades felt unburdened. In this place and time, nothing existed beyond this moment—not the labors Hera had put him through or the death of the Graeae. He did not think of Theseus or even of Zeus. Those were not things he was fighting for—they were things he fought against.

He fought for Persephone, for this love that she inspired in his heart—for these feelings he never expected to feel, much less so deep. He knew things were changing. He could feel it in the threads that moved beneath his glamour, but he hoped that whatever the Fates wove, it included a future for him and Persephone.

Even if that future meant turmoil.

When the palace came into view, Hades noticed Thanatos waiting, and his mood instantly darkened. The high he’d felt from the start of their evening crashed so hard he felt shaky. When he’d thought of turmoil, he hadn’t expected it to come so soon, but he knew what this meant.

He knew .

And already his heart was breaking for Persephone.

A few more paces and they were within range of Thanatos, who looked stricken. He was always pale, but there was a yellow sheen to his skin that made him look sickly, and even the hollows of his cheeks seemed deeper, his eyes more hooded. Hades dismounted, and as he helped Persephone off Alastor, he noted that she couldn’t take her eyes off the God of Death either. Her dread was just as heavy.

As they approached, Hades kept his hand on the small of Persephone’s back, a precaution in case she crumpled.

“Thanatos,” Hades greeted.

“My lord, my lady,” he said and swallowed, trying twice to speak, but whatever words he had thought he would start with fell dead on his tongue. Instead, he admitted, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

It was not often Thanatos was at a loss for words, not often when he could not provide comfort in difficult situations, and the fact that he could not now showed how much he truly cared for Persephone and her friend.

It was a few more moments before he managed to speak, and by then, Persephone was quivering.

Finally, he managed, “It’s Lexa.”

The first sob tore from her mouth in a rush of emotion, and Hades drew her to him, holding her tighter as Thanatos continued.

“She’s gone.”