“Give me your seed, Hades,” she commanded. “Fill me up.”
My dark heart fluttered at her words. I could never deny my Persephone. She pushed her fingers deep inside of her sex, pushing against my staff again and as soon as her rear hole clamped down on me, I gave her another two thrusts before I roared my release.
Nothing existed except for us as the euphoria ripped through us. Her series of cries ringing in my ears were the perfect accompaniment to my seed jetting inside her dark hole, painting her insides with my very essence. I rolled us around until she lay on top of me, still impaled by my staff, her hair trailing over my face and chest.
I stroked her damp back as her hole continued to contract around me. Her hips moved as she greedily rubbed herself on me. Her soft breasts pushed against my chest, causing my cock to jerk inside of her. With a smile, my head rested back on the pillows because we were in for another long night.
Chapter 17
Persephone
I stood at the edge of the Asphodel Meadows, but my gaze was fixated on the ever-growing river of souls flowing into the Underworld. The air was thick with whispers—mournful, confused and desperate. Each soul carried worn it a story of hunger, of barren fields, of lives cut short by a world that had turned against them. I clenched my fists, my heart heavy with a gnawing dread. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.
The increase was a trickle at first, then a flood. The Underworld, vast and eternal, was filling faster than it ever had before. The shades of the dead wandered aimlessly, their hollow eyes reflecting the despair of their untimely ends. Their sorrow pressed against my chest because I suspected this had something to do with my mother.
“Why are there so many? What is happening above?” I asked Hades, but my voice trembled in fear of his answer.
Hades turned to face me, his dark eyes shadowed with reluctance. He hesitated before answering. “It is your mother,’ he said quietly. “Demeter’s wrath has fallen upon the mortal world. She has cursed the harvests, the crops, the very earth itself. Famine spreads like a plague and the mortals…they cannot survive it.”
My hand flew to my neck as my breath caught in my throat. I’d suspected her grief would cause her to react, but never like this. My eyes scanned the Shades once more.
My mother, kind and nurturing, my mother had done this?
Demeter's image once symbolised life and abundance, but now she is a bringer of death and despair. It was too much to bear.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “She wouldn't…she couldn’t—”
Even as the words left my mouth, deep down, I knew it was true. My mother’s grief and anger would have been boundless. The guilt surged inside of me like a tidal wave threatening to drown me.
“This is my fault,” I said, my voice breaking. “All these souls, their suffering…it’s because of me.”
Hades stepped closer, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of my thoughts. His hand brushed mine before he held it.
“Persephone,” he said, his voice low and firm as tears began to roll down my cheeks, “you cannot blame yourself. You did not ask for this. You did not cause this. Your mother’s actions are her own.”
“But she’s doing this because of me!” I cried, my tears streaming down my cheeks. “Because I am trapped here—”
“You are not trapped,” Hades interrupted, his tone gentle but insistent. “You are my Queen, and this is your realm as much as mine. The mortals’ fate is not yours to bear. Their lives are fleeting, their suffering but a moment in the span of eternity. You cannot carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
I looked up at him, searching for his solace, wanting to believe him, to let go of the guilt clawing my insides. But the cries of the newly arrived souls still echoed in my ears, a constant reminder of the cost of my existence here.
“I just—I never wanted this,” I murmured. “I never wanted anyone to suffer because of me.”
Hades cupped my face in his hands, his touch cool but comforting. “You are not to blame,” he repeated. “And you are not alone. We will endure this together. The mortals will find their way, as they always do. Your mother…she will find peace in time.”
I leaned into his touch, my tears slowing, but my heart remained heavy. Hades was trying to comfort me, to ease my burden, but the weight of my guilt for the countless lives lost was not so easily lifted. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness of the Underworld envelop me.
“I just hope it is enough. I hope it is enough to make her stop,” I whispered as my tears resumed.
Hades said nothing but pulled me into a comforting embrace and held me. At that moment, I felt the full weight of my existence. A queen of the dead and a daughter of life, forever caught between the two worlds, torn.
???
The pleasure of tending to my garden was gone, and knowing above me the mortals were suffering greatly didn't leave me. I paused beneath the heavy boughs of the pomegranate tree, its branches sagging with the weight of ripe, crimson fruit. I brushed my fingers against the smooth, cool skin of a pomegranate before I plucked it from the branch, turning it over in my hands to feel its weight—a weight that seemed to mirror the burden in my heart.
My chest tightened as I thought of them—the mothers clutching their hollow-cheeked children, fields cracked and lifeless, the once vibrant world now a desolate wasteland.
My garden was a paradox—lush and alive, yet shadowed by what lay beyond its borders. Flowers of every hue bloomed, and vines heavy with grapes curled around marble columns. It was a place of beauty and abundance, yet it felt hollow in the face of the suffering above.
