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“Hades,” Pelops said, his voice full of disdain for the god. “Did you open your legs for him before or after the marriage was official?”
Appearing by her side, Hades fist wrapped around Pelops’ throat. “Didn’t I kill you already?”
Then Pelops was gone, Hades’ empty fist hanging in the air.
“Let’s go home,” he said, kicking dirt into the blood-filled hole as he turned Persephone and offered her his elbow.
She walked away from him. “I will walk,” she said coldly.
“I will walk with you. I could use the fresh air.”
She wanted to object, but knew Hades would follow her whether she wanted him to or not, so she let him walk with her.
Grabbing hold of her elbow with a gentle grip, Hades started to lead her away from the spot the rivers connected, into the dark abyss of the Underworld. She pried his fingers from her, hugging her arms around her chest to keep him from reaching for her again.
“What are you thinking about?” Hades asked, breaking the silence.
Persephone ignored his question, opting to keep her gaze on the ground, pretending Hades was not walking so closely beside her that she could feel his body heat.
“You know what would make you feel better,kale?” He touched her elbow again, bringing them both to a halt and tugging her back a little so she had to step backward, turning her body toward him in the process. “A little torture.” His low voice made the hairs on her arms stand up, a small shock pulsing along her skin.
“I think you have put me through enough today, Hades.”
The smile that graced his lips made her stomach clench. “No,” he said in a low, husky murmur, “you should do the torturing.” When she merely stared at him, eyes wide with confusion, he added, “Maybe start with Pelops—just a suggestion.” He threw his hands up in defense at her glare.
She shook her head. “Even if I wanted to—and I’m not saying I do,” she added hastily when Hades perked up, “I wouldn’t know how to.”
“What is the point in marrying the King of Torture if you can’t learn a thing or two from him?”
“I do not want to learn, Hades.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes, “I love when you say my name that way.”
“What way?”
He leaned in, their breath mingling. “Like you hate me.”
Persephone didn’t know what to say to that other than, “I do hate you.”
He kissed her mouth quickly and straightened, looking around at the darkness that seemed to be closing in on them. “I know.”
Then he was gone, and Persephone was blind to the world around her. Her heart quickened and sweat started to pool along her neck and palms, the crooks of her elbows and knees sweating profusely, as she remembered the last time Hades had thrust her into pure darkness.
33
REVENGE
You are weak….no spirit, no drive…weak weak weak weak…
The jabs bounced around her head as she walked through the dark field, avoiding wandering souls that walked straight into her path, crossing in front of her close enough to feel the chill brushing off their translucent bodies.
Pelops thought she would do a poor job at being queen, at being a mother, and she wanted nothing more than to torture him for it. He had berated her for her weaknesses, claiming being gentle and kind was a weakness rather than the strength it was.
It was easy to choose yourself. Easy to ignore others in favour of what makes you happy, makes your life better. It is much harder to put your needs aside to help someone in need. To be kind and gentle and help another with no expectations of repayment for your kindness.
But what had it ever gotten her? She loved Pelops with her whole heart, sacrificed herself time and time again for him, eventually resulting in giving her own life up for his. She had given everything for him, and he thought she was weak.
Persephone halted as another soul meandered in front of her, a short, disbursed line of them crossing where she was walking. Briefly, she thought to plow through them, keep walking and ignore the souls milling about the field. Stride through them, shoving past them with her shoulders, picture Pelops’ face with every shove of her elbow.
