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She knew the answer—but it was more complicated than a yes.
She was here to convince her to return to the Underworld, to a kingdom of people who had treated her like a queen, to her friends.
She knew Hecate was right. Did it really matter that they had found love for each other because of a contract? People found love in all sorts of ways.
The hardest thing though, was that when she’d told Hades she loved him, he hadn’t said it in return. He hadn’t said anything at all.
She felt Hecate watching her, and the goddess asked, “How do you think you fulfilled the terms of your contract?”
Persephone looked at her, confused. “I...grew something.”
It wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t even sure it could be called a plant, but it was alive and that’s what mattered.
The goddess shook her head. “No. You fulfilled the contract because you created life within Hades. Because you brought life to the Underworld.”
Persephone looked away, closing her eyes against the words. She couldn’t hear this.
Then Hecate whispered, “It is bleak without you.”
Hecate took Persephone's hand. “Do you love him?”
The question brought tears to her eyes, and she wiped at them furiously before uttering a breathless, “Yes.” She sniffed. “Yes. I think I have loved him since the beginning. That’s why it hurts.”
Hades had challenged her to look at the whole picture, to not be blinded by her passion—except when it came to her passion for him.
“So, go to him. Tell him why you hurt, tell him how to fix it. Isn't that what you're good at?”
Persephone couldn't help laughing at that and then groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Oh, Hecate. He doesn't want to see me.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Don’t you think if he wanted me, he would have come for me?”
“Perhaps he was just giving you time,” she said.
Hecate looked away, down the pedestrian street, and Persephone followed her gaze. Her breath caught, and her heart pounded in her chest. Hades stood a few feet away. Dressed from head to toe in black, he had never looked more handsome. His gaze, dark and piercing, settled upon her, and it was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him—he was hopeful but afraid.
Persephone rose from her chair. It took her a moment to get her legs moving. She stumbled forward, and then broke into a run. He caught her as she jumped into his arms, legs twining around his waist. He held her close, burying his face into the crook of her neck.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you, too,” she said and then pulled back. She studied his face, brushing the curve of his cheek and the bow of his lips. “I'm sorry.”
“Me, too,” he said, and she realized he was studying her just as intently, like he was trying to memorize every part of her. “I love you. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you that night in the bas. I knew then.”
She smiled, her fingers coiling into his hair. “I love you, too.”
Their lips crashed together, and it was like the whole world melted away—though they were surrounded by a legion of people taking photos and filming. Hades broke the kiss, and Persephone looked both frustrated and slightly dazed.
“I wish to claim my favor, Goddess,” he said, his eyes darkening.
Persephone’s heart hammered in her chest.
“Come to the Underworld with me.”
She started to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss.
“Live between worlds,” he said. “But do not leave us forever—my people, your people, me.”
