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“Minthe, your brother was detained in my castle and escaped during an event at the gates. Any information you have on him, his plan, and his whereabouts are needed in order to help me keep the realm safe from threats.”
“I do not know,” Minthe shook her head, her eyes cutting to Devon for a split second before looking back at Persephone. Her eyes unable to hold his gaze in that moment.
Devon knew then she was hiding something. He was not sure if it was in regard to her brother’s whereabouts, or something else, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to tell them. Not willingly.
“Where is Tristan? That he would abandon his people and river…”
Minthe stiffened, her eyes narrowing at Persephone.
“I cannot believe that my brother would abandon us. Are you sure he wasn’t taken?” She angled her head in mock innocence. Devon started forward, tired of Minthe’s display of misplaced jealousy, when Persephone held up her hand in warning to stay back.
“You think someone walked into my realm, into my castle, and stole away someone out from under me?” She walked towards Minthe as she spoke, her gait predatory.
“My brother does not abandon what he loves!” Minthe yelled, the dam breaking that had held back her emotions.
“You forget yourself, Nymph,” Persephone growled.
Devon watched as Minthe’s skin took on a pearlescent sheen.
“My apologies, Goddess. I found I’ve lost more than one man I loved recently and am a tad defensive.” Minthe’s glassy eyes looked to Devon as she said this.
“Minthe, enough,” he growled quietly. “It’s over. Has been over for a long, long time.”
He moved to stand at Persephone’s side when Minthe’s eyes flashed, her focus on his wrist; his soulbond mark.
“No. No. NO!” Minthe screamed, her voice like that of a banshee calling for someone’s death. Her body becoming liquid and dropping to the ground before disappearing into the wet sand of the river shore.
“A trait of cowardly siblings,” Persephone murmured.
“I didn’t realize she had felt so strongly,” he replied, moving to wrap his arm around Persephone’s waist.
Persephone looked from the river to him.
“Minthe had an obsessive personality long before she left for the mortal world. If Minthe thinks you are hers, then she will stop at nothing to make that a reality.”
Chapter 37
Devon walked into the study where Persephone sat watching the fire, lost in her thoughts.
He took the seat next to her, staying silent for a moment before he broached the subject that had weighed heavily on his mind since speaking with his father.
“What did you sacrifice for my father to remember me?” he asked. He finally had his closure, thanks to her, but at what cost?
Her eyes moved to his after several long and drawn-out seconds of silence.
“To have his memory long term would mean his choices of being reincarnated were gone, and I didn’t want choices to be made without your knowledge or his blessing. So, I had to work with Mnemosyne, the Titan who guards the pool of memory, for a short-term solution.”
“And that was?” he prompted. “What did you offer her?”
“A champion for the restless souls. The ones that wander the shore of Styx, having not been given funeral rites. A champion who will bring nightmares to the mortals who choose the wrong paths but are not so far gone they cannot redeem themselves. To haunt these individuals in the hopes of turning the souls back from the darkness.”
“You’re going to start haunting people? Do you even have the time to do that?” he halfheartedly joked, concerned she had taken on even more responsibility to help him.
Her eyes flashed up to his, an eyebrow raised.
“Not me. A part of me,” she whispered.
His eyebrows drew in with obvious confusion at this statement.
