Authors: Stephannie Beman
She smelled of thyme and clover, and the feminine scents so much a part of her, roses and earth, honey and lavender. He wanted to hold her forever. Instead he lightly brushed a stray, sun-kissed curl from her face and marveled at the soft, yielding flesh of her cheek.
She turned into his touch, purring like a cat, a slight smile on her lush lips. The contrast in their lives was never so stark as they were in that moment. Even in sleep his instincts would have lead him to attack and kill.
She groaned softly, pressing herself against his thigh, her hands reaching for him. “Hades,”
she sighed.
All the blood rushed to his groin. Her eyelashes fluttered and she shifted, her back arching upward, displaying the fullness of her breasts against the tight fabric of her dress. They almost begged to be touched.
He gave in to the temptation to kiss her. Her lips parted, inviting him in. The urge to claim her as his mate was stronger than anything he’d experienced and he forced himself to turn away.
Leaving her was the hardest thing he’d ever forced himself to do. He crossed to open the
door joining their suites and entered his rooms. He looked around the white marble room and sighed. Only the basic needs were here. Two torches and a fire in the hearth lit the dim room. The canopy bed, adorned with black silk sheets and a thick black blanket provided a nice contrast to the deep red curtains hanging from the bed posts and the plush rugs spread across the white floor.
And a wicker frame for his armor.
There was no other furniture or decorations in the room. Besides the door leading to
Persephone’s suite of rooms, there was the one leading to the rest of the palace, and a third one for the bathing room.
He shed the cloak and threw it on the bed. He removed his helmet, breastplate, and chainmail skirt and placed them on the framework structure. The shin and arm guards were laid before the armored framework with the sword he had left behind in its holder.
Changing into a dark cobalt blue tunic and black leggings, he was for once glad of the
moderate temperature of the Underworld. The longer sleeves of the tunic and leggings would hide the nastiest of the scars gained from before his prime. He brushed a hand through his longer hair, unable to think of anything more to delay him. It was time to face the consequences of his decisions.
He entered the solar, three of the eight torches in the room merrily burned, casting a faint glow through the room. A twinge of misgiving beat in his heart as he looked down at his wife through the ancient law of abduction. It had been an acceptable practice in his time, but the idea of abducting one’s bride had never set well with him, and now he had crossed that unacceptable line from which he condemned lesser men.
If there had been another way, he would’ve gladly taken it, he assured himself. The need to act quickly, and save her from the danger Rhea predicted, overrode any sane and more civilized plan. In the end it was the only way to bind her to him and keep her safe, he reasoned, shoving aside his discomfort. It was a flimsy excuse for what he’d done. Maybe Zeus and his ilk were right. Maybe he deserved Tartarus.
He sighed and sat on the settee across from her to watch her sleep. He watched the gentle rhythm of her breathing and wondered what she would think of this place. Would she love it or hate it? Would she be happy here with him?
She groaned, her sinuous body stretching, and her eyes fluttering. She blinked a few times and a frown furrowed her brows as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.
She sat up suddenly, eyes wide and frantic. She looked around the solar and finally spotted him. “Hades? Where am I? Where’s my mother?”
“You’re in the Underworld. I don’t know where your mother is.”
“The Underworld? Why? I remember…” She stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of hope
and fear. He could see it all plain on her face. “Was it you? Did you take me from the valley?”
“Yes. I—”
She bolted.
Hades stared after her for a moment. That wasn’t the reaction he expected. Rising he
followed her.
Penelope and Zana, two long time residences of the Underworld, shrieked as Persephone
burst into the kitchen. Persephone shrieked, backpedaled, and collided into his chest.
Hades wrapped his arms around her. Her panic rose through the trace amounts of magic she
now controlled, nearly overwhelming him. “Persephone. Calm down. Let me explain.”
She shook her head, kicking his shins in attempt to break away. If her hands were free she would probably scratch his eyes from his head. He held her at arm’s length, shocked by the wild look in her eyes and the fear on her face.
“Persephone, please talk to me.” She stilled, and he loosened his hold on her. “Let me
explain.”
“Why?!” she shouted, striking his shoulder. “You betrayed me. You stole me. I hate you!”
She glared at him through the tears gathering in her indigo eyes. “I want to go home.”
“You
are
home.”
The salty tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks. “No,” she wailed. She collapsed against him, burrowing her face deeper into his tunic. “No,” she whispered.
He lifted her into his arms and hazard a glance at the stunned goddesses. “Penelope, could you bring a cup of nectar to the andronitis?”
The thin, white-haired goddess cleared the odd look from her face and nodded. Hades carried the silent Persephone from the kitchen to the large colonnaded courtyard with the jeweled trees forming a perfect circle around a simple fountain of a maiden pouring a jar of water into the pool. He set her down on the reclining couch and sat on the stone lip of the fountain’s pool across from her; far enough to give her space and close enough to catch her if she tried to run again.
She stared at him, tears streaking her cheeks. He shifted, wishing she would stop. Crying was such a useless action to circumstances. He always wondered what was it about crying women that made men so uncomfortable, and now he knew. It was the protective streak in a man that wanted to fix the wrong, even if they had caused it and the inability to do it. It was the most frustrating emotion.
He cared for Persephone and never wanted to see her sad. He preferred her anger. At least he could defend against it.
“Please stop crying. I’m not going to hurt you, Persephone.”
HURT HER?! He was not going to hurt her?! She almost laughed in his sincere face. He’d
already hurt her! She thought he cared for her, might even love her.
He proved himself no different than the men Demeter had warned her against. Always taking what they wanted with no thought for others.
She was a prisoner in his home! And she didn’t have the magic to depart even if she wanted to leave!
Shocked by the thought that she might not want to go, she turned on the man who brought
her to such confusion. “Why, Hades?”
One of the servants entered the secluded area, interrupting whatever he might’ve said. The woman held a cup in her hand which she offered to Persephone. She stared at the goddess and shook her head. She wasn’t thirsty and feared she might just throw the contents in Hades’ face.
Although the action might be satisfying, it would solve nothing.
“Leave the cup on the table, Penelope. If she gets thirsty, she’ll drink.”
The woman bowed and obeyed. Setting the cup beside Persephone, her mouth opened to say
something, but she turned and left.
“I’m sorry to have done this to you, Persephone, but it was the only way. Your mother has kept you naïve of the world, and sadly now that the world knows of your existence, you aren’t safe. Your mother ran because Zeus wanted to take you from her and give you to one of the gods.”
“No! He gave me a choice!”
“I don’t know what your mother or others told you about me, but I’m an honorable and fair man—”
“Honorable! You abducted me!”
He had the decency to look ashamed. He rested his hands on his knees and looked at her with such longing she wanted to rise from the couch and hold him. “I was led to believe that you wouldn’t object—”
“I object! I want to return to my mother. Please take me back.”
“So you can live a life devoid of magic, imprisoned in a villa by your mother, wasting away the hours dreaming of what you might have had, waiting for one of the gods to make his move against you. What kind of life is that?”
She glared at him. He was right and she hated him for it. “My life! I had a choice in my fate.
What kind of life will I have here, Hades? One where I’m imprisoned in these walls, in this dark world? Where I await your every desire and beg for an end to it all? You’re no better than those you condemn!”
He recoiled and her tender heart cried for her take back the words she has spoken. She’d
wanted to hurt him as badly as he hurt her. She’d wanted him to feel her pain. But it wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be.
“Why have you brought me here, Hades?”
“So you wouldn’t be forced to marry Apollo, Hermes, or Ares. So you can heal from
whatever ordeal stole your memories and your power. So you could be free.”
She knew his answer was a truthful one, because after it slipped past his lips, he looked as surprised as her by the answer.
“Then you should have asked,” she said softly.
“I did…” He shook his head. “Would you have said yes?”
She sat on the couch, trying to convince herself that he was a monster and she hated him.
Only she couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t an emotion she could cultivate. To be truthful, she only hated what he’d done.
“No,” she responded, though her heart shouted yes.
SHE MIGHT as well rip out his heart, for the effect would’ve been the same and less painful.
He should have returned her to Demeter. He’d commit one of the most despicable crimes against a woman, and couldn’t undo it because of three reasons.
First, the gods would consider her spoiled goods and without magic to fend them off, any god could have her. They would pass her around like chattel, taking her whether she was willing or not, until she was jaded and used up, her innocence gone forever.
Second, he wanted revenge. He wanted Zeus to pay for his deceit. He wanted Zeus wonder
when he would reappear to claim the Iron Queen.
Third and most important, she was his mate. He knew she was the one meant for him.
Persephone was the one who would complete him. He would never be able to let her go.
He ran his hands through his thick hair. He needed to put Persephone at ease and take away her fear. “I promise you, you’ll have the respect every woman deserves. You’re free to roam anywhere in this land that you wish. You may ask any question and I’ll speak only truth to you.
I’ll take nothing from you but what you freely give me, even if it’s only friendship. Everything I own is now yours. You may ask me for anything, and if it’s in my power to grant it, you’ll have it.”
She glared at him, her anger and hurt blending into something nearer abhorrence. “I want
nothing of yours. Take me home.”
He straightened, making his decision, and calmly spoke, “By ancient law, the moment I
brought you into my home, you became my wife and I, your husband. This is your home.”
“I don’t want to be your wife! I don’t want to be any man’s property! Not theirs and not
yours!”
A flicker of pain shot through him, but he quenched it before it took hold. Persephone just needed time to become accustom to her situation. “The same law states that I can keep you only for as long as I hold you against all suitors or until we say our binding vows before the King of the Gods. If you prefer another to me, tell me who, and I’ll arrange for him to steal you away.
But I promise you, the Olympians don’t care about your feelings.”
She laughed. A bitter and cutting laugh. “And you do.”
“I don’t expect you to understand right now, but this is your kingdom now, you are its Queen.
I would like for you to rule at my side as my equal. I have nothing but myself to offer you, Persephone, but I will cherish you forever.”
“Why did you do this to me?”
He bit back the truth and decided upon a half-truth most would believe of him. “I warned
Zeus not to cross me. As part of our bargain, I was granted a kingdom and daughter of his to wife. He sought to betray me and must pay for his sins—”
“So you kidnapped me?”
“Your father desired a political match for you and I took his political pawn from his grasp.”
She frowned. “What kind of monster are you?”
“Not the same variety as your father,” he snapped. “You’re free to live your life here, and when you learn to defend yourself against the gods who will think themselves free to ravish you, you will be free to live your life wherever you please.” He only hoped when the time came, she’d want to live her life with him.
SHE STARED at him. Was he mad? No one dared to cross Zeus now. He was one of the most
powerful gods, and he had the backing of the other gods.
She searched his face for the lies or madness, but found none. Could she accept what he
offered? Did she dare?
He promised her what she desired most. She had a chance to remember the past, unhindered
by her mother’s fear. She had a chance to reclaim her magic and be a goddess in truth. He promised her true freedom.
For the most part he had treated her honorably and she knew in her heart he cared about her.
But in her heart, she knew she could. She knew it, like she knew that she could trust Julas, that Demeter hid things from her, that Aphrodite had an ulterior motive, that Zeus was weak, and that Ares, Apollo and Hermes were wicked gods.
But she also knew Hades didn’t share everything with her. He spoke the truth, yet he kept something important back. Something that could change her life.
She met his impassive gaze. “What do you want from me, Hades?”
“Nothing.”
Half-truth. He wanted something from her, something he feared to tell her. He just didn’t expect to gain anything from her.