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“What?” Devon frowned. “You want me to go ‘God’ on her?”
“I want you to accept yourself.” Thanatos was grim.
“I am,” Devon balked. “I do. I’m trying to preserve myself.”
“You are the God. The God is you. It’s a part of your soul. The part that held your power through reincarnation. The part that remembers your lives.”
“Lives?” Devon interrupted, his voice going higher than he cared for. “Reincarnation?” He held his arms wide. “You’re telling me that the consciousness that takes over my body when my powers go out of control is...?” Devon faltered, unable to find a word fittingly bizarre enough.
“Your immortal self?” Thanatos supplied. “Yes.”
Devon’s arms dropped to his sides. “So, more me than I am,” he muttered. He felt like there was something missing, something more that he should talk about. Suddenly, he straightened at a thought that crossed his mind. “The kiss. Why did he... I... do that?”
Thanatos nodded, as if this was the question he wanted him to ask. “Something in you recognizes something in her,” he said. “But it’s not my job to tell you what that is.” The Reaper conjured a portal. Shadows swirled in the tall grass. “Next time your God-self pops up... try having a conversation.”
And with that, Thanatos shadow jumped, leaving Devon to contemplate what it meant to know oneself. Especially when oneself came with two versions.
Chapter 20
Persephone had kept herself busy with Underworld demands all day.
Now she looked herself over in her full-length mirror, happy with the final results — smokey eye makeup, slicked back hair that fell down her back like a waterfall, and a tailored floor-length gown.
Her dress was made of deep black silk that shone with a blue hue when it caught the light at certain angles, just like her hair did. The dress was figure hugging with an exposed shoulder and a slit running up her left thigh, which made it a lot easier to walk around in. Blue sapphire studs sat in her ears and her neck glittered with a necklace that matched.
Though the earrings looked beautiful, they were a gift from the Cyclops, and they had more than the purpose of just looking pretty.
She and her remaining sisters were each gifted something after they released the Cyclops from the Underworld when they banished their father, who had kept the Cyclops imprisoned with no real cause.
They gifted Hera a necklace that could create the most destructive lightning bolt; Amphitrite was given a ring that could both calm and anger the seas; for Persephone, she could turn invisible when she rubbed her fingers over the earrings.
She rarely used this, instead preferring her shadows to shield her, but when going to events like this she found it useful. In the mortal world, pulling shadows around oneself caused a stir, and sometimes these events had politically powerful mortals in attendance.
These events also had the type of people who would not hesitate to cut someone’s throat, metaphorically and literally. It never hurt to have everything in her arsenal ready to go, especially the ability to disappear without fanfare.
Something Devon would learn soon enough was that one of these minor deities could turn into an enemy in a blink of an eye. Just another reason Persephone trusted so few people.
They may not like to rub elbows with the Goddess of the Underworld, but they would not hesitate to take her power for themselves if she were in a weakened state.
Naturally, with her being a Goddess, they could only lessen her power and self, not abolish her completely, but Persephone refused to take even that chance. Losing her power may very well kill her mind, if not her body. It was a crucial part of herself and she would not take a chance that there could be a coup, especially not at an event Devon was attending, so she made sure she had her earrings.
A final look in the mirror had her wondering what Devon saw when he looked at her. When he first met her, he had told her he hated her, despised her for what she represented.
That was nothing new to her. People were angry when vulnerable.
She was not loved by the humans or other deities as her sisters were, people were naturally afraid of death. But that didn’t mean it hurt less at the rejection. When people knew and worshipped the Gods so very long ago, they worshipped all except the God of death.
The name of Hades, her alter ego, was never to cross the lips of a mortal for fear of bringing death upon themselves or their house. Therefore, her persona became that of an ice queen over time, withdrawing from the people who rejected her so readily.
She couldn’t do that with Devon, and that was something she feared, his rejection.
She knew she cared for him in a way she had never felt before and the idea of his dismissal chilled her bones.
Enough, she thought. She would allow no one to cause her to question her self-worth.
Even him.
She heard Devon as he moved down the hallway towards her room. She looked at the old grandfather clock in the corner of her room and realized it was time to go. She grabbed her clutch as she moved to the door, her hand hovering on the knob.
