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That thought deflated any and all animosity he had as his head fell back against the chair. He had been somewhat cruel in his struggle to adapt when she only wanted to help.
This was his life now. He was saved, maybe not in the way he had hoped, but it was better than the alternative. He needed to look at it as that. If she could survive the worst, he could survive this.
***
Persephone stared into the dancing flames as she sat in her chamber’s chair by the hearth,
her legs pulled underneath her.
Her thoughts were abstract and overwhelming. She held a glass of wine to her lips as she tried to calm herself. Her nerves caused her hands to shake a little as she took a drink.
She’d told him. She told someone.
Even alone in her bedroom, she felt raw and exposed.
Sharing your darkest secret is exhausting, she thought sardonically.
And Devon. Devon had looked at her with understanding. Persephone’s heart twisted, thinking of the horrors he’d experienced in his few short decades in his mortal life that he could empathize with thousands of years-old trauma.
He’d always been somewhat sad in all his lives, she realized dully. Although she’d never spoken to him, lived beside him as she did now in this life. She’d only caught glimpses and flashes of his lives when she accepted his death call. Spending time with him, conversing with him, felt surreal after sharing largely one-sided encounters with his reincarnations.
She’d been honest with him at Tartarus, but she still had secrets.
Guilt pounded through her. It felt like too much change, too many revelations to settle on him in such a short amount of time. He’d just learned of his godly status. To compound that discovery with the news that their souls, such as they were, had bonded through the centuries of a thousand violent lives seemed cruel.
Yes, that is what she would tell herself.
A light tap at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She sat a moment longer, debating on whether she was wanted to deal with anyone. She was already in her sleep clothes, ready to slip into bed, and most likely not get a wink of sleep thanks to her runaway thoughts.
She sighed as she put her glass of wine aside and stood, rubbing her palms on her thighs as she walked towards the door.
Both terrified and hopeful that Devon was on the other side.
She knew they needed to talk. She needed to explain his soul calling to hers, but she was unsure what purpose the information could hold since she did not know why herself. Why had he called to her, over and over again, throughout the entirety of her time as Goddess of the Underworld?
Opening the door, she was stunned to see Hecate standing there. Usually, after a long day, Hecate was at her cottage near the Asphodel Fields, doing some gardening for her spell work.
It relieved her though, as she could really use a friend right now.
She waved Hecate inside to join her as a second wineglass appeared by way of one of the Reevkas.
“I sensed your presence outside of Tartarus,” Hecate said, stepping into the room. “I am guessing that had to do with Devon?”
Persephone sighed and poured Hecate a glass of wine, topping her own glass off, too. She passed the glass to Hecate, and they both settled into the chaise, sipping quietly. Throughout the centuries, Hecate was always the one to know Persephone’s moods before even Persephone herself did.
“Mm, Dionysus Vineyards. Good stuff,” Hecate murmured.
When Persephone still said nothing, Hecate prodded. “Now tell me why you took our newly minted God-boy to the worst place in all the realms?”
Persephone tried to wrangle her thoughts into making sense.
“I told him about my father.” She was expecting some shock, but Hecate only nodded as if she knew this would happen. Persephone felt a sense of relief at Hecate’s non-reaction. After her sisters had attempted to crawl through her mind for answers, it was nice to have someone who would just sit and listen.
“How did he respond?” she asked softly as she spun the wine glass between her hands by the
stem.
“I think he understands, Hecate,” Persephone murmured.
