Persephone turned to Hecate, lifted her dress, and climbed through the vines. Hecate followed with a splash of water, and as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone.
Demeter was left behind, sobbing, and killing the plants around her.
Cyane had the urge to go to the great mother and comfort her, to promise she’d stay by Persephone’s side and protect her, but when she went to move, Hermes stopped her from doing so. She choked back a displeased moan as his hand pressed against her mouth, stifling it.
“She will not like being seen this way,” he whispered. “And her wrath has the power of winter.”
Cyane’s heart raced, uncaring, but she stopped trying to move.
Demeter, in her lovely glory, rose to her feet, wiped her cheeks, and sneered at the cave entrance. She turned away, and a large, muscled man with white hair appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed the back of her neck. Demeter sighed, and they vanished.
Hermes released Cyane with a grunt. “Glad we weren’t caught.”
“Why?” Cyane picked up her skirt and went back to the brook.
“Demeter would’ve made me go with them. She so likes to use her agony to get what she wants.”
A powerful urge overcame Cyane to follow Persephone, but when she swept the vines aside, the cave was gone. Only rocks and running water had been hidden behind the green curtain.
She turned back to Hermes. “I know her.”
“Doesn’t most the world?”
“No, I mean, I really know her, like I’ve known her forever. I love her, I don’t know how or why, but I love her dearly. Enough to...” Cyane trailed off, glancing around her. “Enough to die for her.”
Hermes canted his head. “Like you love Cerberus?”
She sucked in a breath, “Yes,” she said. “I love him, too.” But it was a different type of love.
She surprised herself, admitting that now. She loved Cerberus. It wasn’t just the power of him that had brought her to her knees. Butlove.
Had she made the right choice? Her throat tightened. Could she go back? Would she even be able to? And if she did, would Hades forgive her? Would Cerberus? Or would she be punished for leaving?
She needed to know, needed to know why she adored Persephone. It was important. Why had Hades gone through such extreme lengths to bring her to Tartarus?I was someone else in my last life. I’d done something to make Hades hate me.
What was it?Cyane searched her head, but nothing came to her, nothing that would help her. All there were, were memories of this life, and nothing more.
She looked back at Hermes who was brushing the dirt off his jeans. “Hades said he’d waited for me to die,” she said. “That my soul lingered above and would not leave. That he had to come up himself and take it and reincarnate me so I would come to him.”
Hermes’s head snapped up. “He said that?”
“And more.” She grabbed him. He tried to pull away, but she held on. “You told me you recognized me. You said it several times. Look at me, not as a mortal, but as something or someone you may have met that wasn’t.”
“What else did Hades say?”
She bit down on her tongue, but spoke anyway. “I angered him somehow.” She thought back on all that Hades had told her. There was more. Something that would help.I shouldn’t have drank the wine.
Maybe I am weak.Cyane tried not to let the awful thought take over her, not again. “I’m to serve him. To make sure he has an heir.”
Hermes's eyes widened. “A god hasn’t been born, not for ages. The goddesses do not have children anymore. It is our punishment for betraying their trust and going astray. How would you help him do such a thing?”
“I don’t know.” And she refused to dwell on it because she knew if she did, it would only tear her insides out. “Who am I?” she begged.
“I don’t know.”
“Think!”
Hermes’s jaw ticked, his nostrils flared. “I don’t know!”
