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The emotions—the awkward discomfort, the confusion, the anger—bled from his face. He
became cold, just as he appeared in her visions of his past. “But that relief will elude me.”
“The darkness of your mortal life will fade,” she told him softly. Hers had.
As she watched him process her words, she realized she could not tolerate the distance his cold demeanor wedged between them. Persephone was not sure why, but it mattered that he was open and kept nothing from her. Long ago, before she even came into her powers, dishonesty was something she could not forgive.
“We will get you acquainted with your new powers as an immortal, but I must ask that we are always honest with each other. That you never lie to me. I need your oath that you will be truthful.” Her eyes lit up brighter, ready to seal the pact between them. She knew most oaths were done over water from the River Styx between gods, but perhaps one Goddess and a bonded immortal was enough for it to take.
“Yeah, sure.” He was not looking at her again, which would not do. She needed his eyes, she
needed this sealed between their souls if it was possible.
“Devon,” she demanded in a voice only a Goddess could use. “Look me in the eye and swear
this oath to me. Do you promise me honesty in all forms?”
He finally looked up, and his eyes were so cold that she had to force herself to stay still. To not demand he cease this charade.
Finally, she saw a flicker of something in his gaze only to realize it was another round of building anger.
“Yes, Persephone. Honesty always with you. But only you,” Devon stated matter of fact, not even glancing at Thanatos. “And right now, I really hate everything about this place, even you. I both want and need to hate you.” She could see the truth of that statement and the anger at the unknown causing such turmoil. She watched as Devon struggled to keep control of his emotional state.
She noticed the moment Devon felt the oath move through him, like it was forging a new pathway in his mind and carving itself into his soul. She was used to the feeling of a sworn oath, but he wasn’t.
The oath flashed over his eyes.
A small growl left his lips, but he said no words. Instead, Devon just watched her with such an intensity that Persephone wondered if the oath was a good idea after all. His face eventually settled on the unemotional stony mask he wore moments ago.
They looked at each other in complete silence. Yet, this time, she was the first to look away.
This soul, the man standing in front of her, she had watched for years. Generations.
She understood his hatred, logically. She hardly paid attention to her emotional state, so the fact that his words hurt baffled her. But they hurt. A lot. He had meant so much to her. It surprised her to find that the thought of hating her felt like a knife between the ribs. Straight into her heart.
It made sense as she represented the entire upheaval of his world. She wondered for a moment if he felt the bond that had formed between them when he took the seeds. She reached for it, having shut herself off to get through this moment but needing to know his true feelings. To her relief, she found that his hate for her was not real. It was a reaction to the potent emotions he felt.
She closed the bond. His end felt strong, but murky and unsteady. The reason for their bond was something only the Moirai knew, but he had not accepted it yet.
So, she would keep the bond closed until he did. She knew for a man like she was realizing Devon was, having no control over his life and emotions was a form of torture. This bond would cause more issues in his coming to terms with everything, so she kept that information to herself for now, and made sure the bond was closed tight.
Giving him a firm nod before turning, she beckoned him to follow her. She knew enough about people to realize she should have been more of a host to him before demanding he swore oaths to her. It would take some getting used to, having someone from the mortal realm in her domain when she was used to being alone and doing everything her way.
This was going to be quite a change for both of them.
***
Persephone hoped he did not reject the strange and beautiful place she called home.
Living among the dead was not for the faint of heart.
He needed to know the whole of the Underworld, even the truly hellish places. Even the places she dreaded acknowledging the most, the secrets there worse than any punishment.
As they wound through the hallways of her too-large home, Persephone pointed out the rooms open to his use, such as the library and various sitting rooms. She hoped the quotidian reality of the castle would settle his mind from the magic he’d experienced thus far and prepare him for the magic he’d see outside.
“How many people live here?” he asked.
“You are the only…” she searched for the word, “guest here.”
