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Silently, Hades agrees with Hecate, but she’s too busy fuming over the prospect of going to Olympus to speak.
While Hecate summons a servant, Kore steps closer to Hades. His warmth is a balm to her senses, and she leans into the affection he provides.
“We will be okay,” Kore says. “Olympus won’t change us.”
Hades isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince—she doesn’t think either of them believes Kore’s assertion. They’ve been together a few short months; for beings as old as they are, they both know that Olympus can change everything.
Still she agrees, answering with a feeble, “Of course.”
Thanatos comes into the throne room with a scowl marring his face, a scowl that deepens when he sees the violet feathers Hermes left behind.
“What an ass,” Thanatos mutters. “Zeus' worst qualities rubbed off on him.”
Hades chuckles, shaking her head. Though she agrees, she reprimands Thanatos. “Mind your manners, Thanatos. Zeus is still your king.”
He watches her with a mutinous expression and, though she cannot read his thoughts, Hadesknowshe’s thinking Zeus isnothis king. Thanatos' loyalty lies with Hades. If war comes, she knows where he will stand—at her side with Hecate and the creatures of her realm—the ones who serve Hades with love instead of fear. That is the difference between her and her brother. Hades doesn’t have to threaten or coerce her subjects—they would die for her without a command to do so. She didn’t lie to Zeus when she said she would be feared and revered long after mortals forget his name. Hades hopes it is not fear that leads mortals to remember her, but the whispers of her love for all the souls who enter her realm.
She shrugs off her thoughts as Kore wraps an arm around her shoulder, drawing her into the safety of his side. Without speaking, he touches Hades how she needs, and she wonders if this is what her mother meant when Rhea said Hades would one day know love.
You too will fall victim to your heart. Maybe then you’ll stop hating me for falling victim to mine.
22
Kore
Olympus no longer feels like home.
Kore stands at the entrance of a familiar garden, but the lush greens and vibrant flowers no longer fill him with peace. The sight of his mother’s work fills Kore with dread.
“Repugnant,” Hades says at his side. She’s dressed for an audience—wrapped in a black velvet ensemble. A velvet bodice hugs Hades' torso; her breasts swelling above her bust-line distract Kore more than he should allow. They are in his mother’s realm now—burrowing his face between his queen’s tits and fucking her in the garden won’t win him any favor.
Hades walks ahead of him. The rest of her gown hugs Hades like a second skin and he watches her hips swing with each step. Though she’s clothed, Hades is exposed to the eyes that follow her. As they walk into the ballroom, Kore tracks the interested stares. Her crown is one that appears as if it were crafted for war; platinum metal fans out around her face in lines similar to ancient paintings of flames. Her crown—encrusted with thousands of blood-red rubies—fans around her up-do, down her forehead, and curves against the sharp angles of Hades' face. Hera’s crown appears common in comparison, and Kore watches Zeus level an annoyed glance at Queen Hades.
The King of the Gods turns his gaze on Kore. His expression is thunderous when he spots Kore standing at Hades' side, standing as an equal despite the designated rules for a consort.
“Hades,” Zeus booms, silencing the titter of the crowd. “You came.”
Dove gray eyes scope the room. Hades takes in their audience before she lifts that gaze toward Zeus. Kore works hard not to show his amusement when she deigns to give her brother a reply.
“I didn’t have much choice, Zeus. I was summoned by one of your pests.”
The energy of the room is charged with the same tension that filled the hall when Kore stepped forward to be Hades' consort.
The tension has the murmurings of war.
“You should always come to witness the Eleusinian Mysteries; they involve you as much as Demeter.” Everyone knows the Mysteries are the celebration of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone. They know that cult sees Hades as a villain—a brute and a rapist who steals away an unwilling maid.
Nothing could be further from the truth, and Kore’s rage simmers as he watches this room ripple with condescending chuckles. All of them mock Hades, as if she is nothing.
Her hand—wrapped in black satin—presses over Kore’s bicep, a silent command for him to be still.
Kore watches, in awe, as Hades grins at the brother who towers over her from his throne.
“So they do.” Releasing a laugh, Hades continues, “Perhaps I should steal this golden goddess. You know, the one I am said to have taken. The one I raped and force-fed seeds before her mother kindly released her from me.”
A tense quiet follows Hades' words, a silence Kore hardly notices through the pounding of blood in his ears. He hasn’t told her his secret, and Kore doesn’t want that revelation to happenhere.
Honestly, Kore’s not sure he ever wants Hades to know of his birthright.
