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“I am your father. The Keeper of Time,” Kronos' laughter causes the mountains in the distance to crack, erosion moving quickly through the sound. “I am kept by no god or goddess, Hades.”
Kronos' hand grips her tighter, breaking the bones that hold her immortal body together—and Hades screams. Words fail her as Kronos mangles Hades as if she is nothing more than clay.
“I will take Olympus back for the Titans, Hades. I’m going to make you and Zeus decorations in my crown.” His laughter rattles the skies, skies that have turned a strange shade. It’s as if both Helios and Selene hover above the scene—waiting to see what happens to the only daughter of the former king, the daughter that ruled the Underworld and kept her father broken in the shadows. Hades made sure that Kronos wasn’t a threat to Olympus; she stood as his jailer for millennia. Until love stole her rationality and drove her mad with grief, when Hades made that love leave.
“You’re as pathetic as your mother,” Kronos tells her with something akin to pity. “She was an insipid girl in love, too.”
Hades knows Kronos means to insult her—he never held her mother in high regard. Kronos used Rhea up and spat her out as if she were less than nothing when she proved useless. An expendable pawn in his game.
“Now, Hades. Let’s make you hurt,” Kronos whispers. His words are full of sweetness that tastes of venom.
37
Kore
His arm pulses, throbbing with pain from the self-inflicted wound.
“Idiot,” Minthe scolds at Kore’s side. He’s muttered that same insult five times since Kore woke up.
“Think up a better word, jackass. I’m tired of hearing you call me an idiot,” Kore says. His words are labored, panted as he stumbles at Minthe’s side.
“Fuck up,” Minthe replies. Malice laces his expression, turning him sharp and otherworldly.
Kore wonders if that’s what mortals see when the niceness wears off. Minthe helps Kore settle on a cracked stone bench. A statue of Aphrodite lies in ruins nearby—a crushed beauty that mirrors most of Olympus too well.
Kore’s about to ask what the plan is when Hades' scream breaks through the din of mountains cracking. His eyes shoot to the sky. In the dark maelstrom, Kore finds Hades crushed in one of Kronos' monstrous hands. Her diadem sparkles like a falling star as it drops from her head.
Minthe moves, reacting faster than Kore. His thin arms rotate in a strange rhythm. From the distance, Kore watches as a dark green shrub ignites across the ground. The foliage catches Hades' crown, but Kore can’t tell if her magic helm sustained damage from this far away .
“Stay here,” Minthe commands Kore, as if it’s his right to speak to Hades' consort with such disdain. A familiar clawing of jealousy grips Kore’s sternum, digging talons into his soul and crushing his heart.
Who came before me? Who will replace me?His gaze stays on Minthe, wondering if this is the love Hades cherished. Kore imagines this lowly being standing in his place, and the vise around his chest grows tighter. Suffocating.
Kore grabs Minthe around his slim wrist. The naiad’s fragile compared to a god. A semi-immortal being. Ageless. Deathless—until something greater undoes him from existence.
“Where are you going?” Kore demands, fiery rage burns his throat.
Minthe appears unimpressed as he yanks his wrist from Kore’s grasp. “I’m going to buy you some time.”
Kore knows what he means.
I’m going to die for my queen.
He grits his jaw, watching as Minthe runs into a darkness he won’t leave.
Kore’s body grows less heavy with each passing second. Every beat of his heart expels a bit of Demeter’s poison, chasing it from his veins with that minty concoction Minthe tipped down Kore’s throat.
Still weakened, Kore isn’t ready for Demeter. Yet, she descends. Her sandaled feet touch the barren earth surrounding Kore, and he snarls at her presence.
“You won’t win. Stories of triumph aren’t for the likes of you, Persephone.” Demeter won’t send Kore to near-nothingness with kindness; her aim, it seems, is to punish him until the bitter end.
“Why do you blame me, Mother?” Kore asks, weary from the weight of existence. “I didn’t call from the depths of Chaos and ask to be born. I didn’t choose to be a son.”
“All the same, you’re a disappointment.”
She looks heavenward, to the towering form of Kronos. He grapples with Ares and Poseidon. Kore watches with mounting dread.
She came for me. Our love will break the Underworld. It will break everything.
