Chapter XXVIII

Chapter XXVIII

On the Way to Elysium

Hades had watched a lot of people die, and he had watched a lot of people lose.

Nothing prepared him for watching someone he loved losing someone they loved.

It was a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. It was as though someone gripped his heart, as if they were squeezing it within their palm, and there was no release, no way to shake the hold. It was ever-present and constant, and it was hopeless.

“Persephone,” Hades said, but her eyes were unfocused. She had stopped crying soon after the first wail had burst from her lips, and now she was quiet and distant. As much as he wanted to give her time to process this, he needed her attention for a few moments longer.

“ Persephone ,” he said, touching her face, and when her eyes met his, she burst into tears once more.

“My darling,” he said gently, brushing away her tears, but she just cried harder. “We don’t have much time.”

He gathered her into his arms, teleporting to the pier at the Styx where Charon would be arriving soon.

When she heard the rush of the river, she pulled away, looking off toward the horizon.

“Hades, what are we—?”

Her words faltered when she saw Charon’s boat cutting across the black waves, his robes a bright beacon against their darkness. There was a single figure beside him, a woman who looked far younger in the Underworld landscape than she did in the world above.

“ Lexa ,” he heard Persephone whisper, and when Charon docked with the soul, Persephone stood so close, Lexa barely had space to climb out of the boat, but she seemed just as eager to see Persephone. They held each other and cried. All the while, Hades stood aside and let them, because beyond this time together, nothing would ever be the same.

Not for Lexa and not for Persephone.

Hades tried not to listen to their conversation, but it was hard given that he stood only a few feet away. There were apologies and expressions of pain, and the dread came when Persephone turned to him and asked, “Where is she going?”

She was going to Elysium to heal because she had taken her own life, and to do that, she would have to drink from the Lethe, which meant she would have no memories from her time above—not of anything, not even Persephone.

He knew Persephone had asked because she hoped he would say otherwise, but when he did not speak, he knew she understood. He waited for her anger, but Lexa was quick to speak, drawing her attention.

“Seph,” she said, squeezing her hands. “It’s going to be okay.”

Persephone’s mouth trembled. “Why?”

Lexa opened her mouth to speak but shook her head. It was likely she didn’t even understand the decision she’d made. It was just that her soul had wanted so badly to remain in the Underworld the first time, it couldn’t handle returning to a world it did not want—no matter how much she loved Persephone.

“I did this,” Persephone said, her voice trembling, and Lexa brought her hands to her chest.

“Persephone, this was my choice. I am sorry it had to be this way, but my time in the Upperworld was over. I accomplished what I needed to.”

“What was that?” Persephone asked, miserable.

Lexa smiled. “To empower you.”

Persephone shook her head and fell into Lexa’s arms. It wasn’t something she was ready to hear yet, but there would come a time when she would recognize the impact of this loss. She would see how strong she truly was.

They remained together until Thanatos arrived to escort Lexa to the Lethe. This time, he was far more prepared to offer the benefits of his magic, and a sense of calm overcame everyone gathered, even as Lexa hesitated.

“Wh-where am I going?” she asked.

“You will drink from the Lethe,” Hades explained. “And then Thanatos will take you to Elysium to heal.”

Even as Hades spoke the word— heal —he noted the glow in Lexa’s eyes. She was ready.

“I will visit you every day, until we are best friends again.”

Persephone’s promise made Hades’s heart hurt, but he had no doubt she would hold to it—no matter how hard it would be.

“I know,” Lexa whispered, and for the first time since she arrived, there were tears in her eyes, but Thanatos took Lexa’s hand, and she seemed comforted by his presence. She let him lead her away, and when Hades and Persephone could no longer see them, they returned to the palace.

* * *

Once in their bedchamber, Hades encouraged Persephone to rest, and after she had fallen asleep, he found himself in Hecate’s meadow, where the goddess invited him for tea. Inside her small cottage, he felt like a giant, barely able to sit at her table, though he managed as she made a blend—one in particular she said would calm nerves.

“I hear our dear Persephone has had quite a harrowing evening,” she said.

Hades nodded, reflecting on the day. They had gone from one extreme to another—an intense high to a devastating low. He wavered between each of those memories—Persephone’s genuine happiness to her shocking pain. There was a part of him that hated himself for this, that blamed himself for Lexa’s ultimate end. If he had been more forthright about his world, maybe none of this would have happened.

Hecate slammed a hand against the table, snapping Hades out of his thoughts.

He met her gaze, mildly annoyed.

“Stop that,” she said, setting a steaming cup of tea beside his arm. It smelled like chamomile, lavender, and mint.

He raised a brow at the goddess. “I thought we—”

“I don’t need to read minds to know when you are brooding because you scowl,” she said. “What’s done is done. There are no decisions that can take us back in time, only ones that move us forward. Right now, Persephone needs an attentive… boyfriend .”

Hecate seemed to shudder at that word, and despite everything, he smirked. “Fiancé,” he said.

Hecate blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Fiancé,” he said once more and added, “Persephone agreed to marry me.”

A slow smile broke out across Hecate’s face.

“Are you saying,” she said carefully, “that I get to plan a wedding?”

“I think you’ll have to talk to Persephone, but I doubt she would tell you no.”

“Engaged,” she said, as if she did not believe it, and sank into her chair across from him.

“Yes,” Hades said, amused by her response.

“ Married ,” she said.

“Eventually,” Hades said, though he hoped sooner rather than later.

Then she shook her head. “I never thought this day would come.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Hades said, though he had not been so certain either.

“You’re not exactly charming or good at communication,” Hecate said. “And you’re an alcoholic.”

“Is there anything I am good at, Hecate?” Hades asked, and the goddess smiled.

“Learning.”

* * *

Hades spent another hour at Hecate’s cottage before returning to the palace, where he met Thanatos in his office. The God of Death offered an update on Lexa’s trip to Elysium, which had been, gratefully, uneventful. There were times when souls who drank from the Lethe became hostile and lashed out at the god, but Lexa had been pleasant, quiet, almost shy.

“I fear it will be some time before Persephone can visit with Lexa,” Thanatos said.

“I will tell her,” Hades said and added, “Thank you, Thanatos, for taking care of her.”

Hades noticed a faint blush color the god’s cheeks, and he opened his mouth to respond but settled on a simple nod before leaving.

It was then, while alone, that the day crashed down on him, and he was filled with a restless energy he couldn’t shake. His thoughts stormed through his mind, as relentless as the flames in the fireplace he stood before.

This time, rather than dwelling on how he might have prevented Lexa’s end, he felt fear—fear that Persephone would blame him, that once she had time to think about how this had unfolded, she would see that he had failed her.

The guilt made his eyes sting, and when the door opened, he stiffened. There was a part of him that was preparing for her rage and a part of him that feared seeing the weight of her sadness, feared that when he looked upon her, he would break too.

He felt her draw near, though hesitant, and he was surprised when she asked, “Are you well?”

He swallowed hard around the thickness in his throat. He should be asking her. “Yes, and you?”

“Yes… Hades,” she said, and he knew she was waiting for him to look at her. He took a few deep breaths, until the wetness behind his eyes did not feel so threatening. When he met her gaze, he did not see what he expected—no resentment or anger or hatred. He just saw…her, beautiful and raw and open.

“Thank you for today,” she whispered.

Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. He had only tried to make up for what he had done so wrong before.

“It was nothing,” he said and turned back to the fire, but Persephone reached for him. He held her gaze, and as much as he wanted to give her distance in this moment, he realized she was asking for the opposite.

“It was everything,” she said, her eyes heated, her lips parted.

He angled toward her and took her mouth against his, and they knelt before the fireplace. The heat from the flames made their skin hot and slick. Hades took his time with her once more, much as he had done in the mountains, and when he found himself sliding into her, she spoke.

“You were right,” she said, her body shifting beneath his, legs widening, back arching.

“I did not want to be right,” he said as he began to move.

“I should have listened.”

“Shh,” he soothed, bending to kiss her mouth. “No more talk of what you should have done. What is, is. There is nothing else to be done but move forward.”

He recognized he needed to take Hecate’s advice just as much as she did, but the words worked to calm her, and soon they were moving together, hard and fast and measured, and when Persephone started to moan his name, his lust for her knew no bounds. He gripped her hips and slammed into her, liking the bite of her nails as they scored his skin, and he came so hard inside her, he collapsed when he was done.

They rested like that for a long while, shifting only to be closer to the fire, as they’d moved a considerable distance during sex.

“I’m going to quit New Athens News ,” Persephone said.

“Oh?”

It was the first time he had heard of this plan, but he could not say he disapproved. He hated Kal Stavros, and while he did not think the mortal would bother her anymore, he’d rather she not work for him.

“I want to start an online community and blog. I’m going to call it The Advocate —it will be a place for the voiceless.”

He smiled a little, knowing that this was what she was passionate about—offering a space for those who felt like they were not heard, much as she had felt throughout her life.

“It sounds like you have thought about this a lot,” Hades said.

“I have.”

He placed a hand beneath her chin and drew her gaze to his. “What do you need from me?”

“Your support.”

He nodded, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You have it.”

“And I’d like to hire Leuce as an assistant.”

He raised his brows, though he wasn’t surprised. “I’m sure she’d be pleased.”

“And…I need your permission.”

He almost laughed at her list of requests, but he was intrigued, unable to imagine what she might ask his permission for, though he would grant anything if she asked.

“Oh?”

“I want the first story to be our story. I want to tell the world how I fell in love with you. I want to be the first to announce our engagement.”

His chest felt tight at her words, and while he’d never consider offering their life to anyone willingly, he would do it for Persephone.

“Hmm,” he said, pretending to consider her demand. “I will agree under one condition.”

“And that is?”

“I too wish to tell the world how I fell in love with you.”

She smiled and offered a breathy laugh as he took her mouth against his, and when she shifted to straddle his body, he gladly let her take him.

* * *

Hades had attended few mortal funerals, and when he did, it was often when he was cloaked in glamour, but this one—Lexa’s—was different. He attended with Persephone because she asked, and even if she hadn’t, he would have been there for her. It was a morose affair, with many dressed in black.

“She would have hated this,” Persephone said. “She would have wanted a celebration.”

Hades smoothed her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Funerals are for the living.”

It wasn’t long after that her anxiety began to rise. Hades did not need to look to know what had upset her—mortals. Those in attendance knew who he was, knew who she was, and did not understand why he had allowed Lexa to die. He could feel their gazes, angry and discontent, though all he cared about was how Persephone felt.

“You could never make them understand,” he said in an attempt to quell her nerves.

She stared back at him, not only sad for Lexa but for him. “I do not want them to think poorly of you.”

“I hate that it bothers you. Does it help if I tell you the only opinion I value is yours?”

“No,” she said, but despite her pain, she managed a smile.