I could feel it.
Her pulse beating in the space between us like war drums muffled under silk.
I crouched slightly, just enough to meet her eyes—when she dared to look.
“You’re already mine, little muse. The ring just makes it legal.”
I closed the box and set it back down like it was a crown being placed on a throne.
“Think it over,” I murmured. “You have until tomorrow.”
I turned toward the door, then paused—hand on the frame.
Didn’t look back. Didn’t need to.
“And Persephone?”
A beat.
I could feel her breath catch before I even said it.
“Wear something pretty.”
Another pause.
“I want the memory to be worth the cost.”
And then I left her there…
In silence.
In fire.
In my promise.
Chapter 7
Seph
The ring box sat on my nightstand, a mocking little prison in the quiet of my room. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale shadows that danced along the walls, but I felt no comfort from it. My heart pounded in my chest, loud and chaotic, drowning out the stillness.
I couldn't sleep. Not with Hades' words replaying in my mind like a demonic lullaby. Are you ready to get married, Persephone? The very thought twisted something sharp inside me. The ring wasn’t a promise; it was a sentence—a declaration of ownership I refused to accept.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, letting anger pulse through me like fire. No chains would hold me quietly.
With purpose, I moved through the darkness of my room, slipping into boots and pulling on a jacket that smelled faintly of lavender and something darker—my own defiance. I fumbled through drawers, searching for something sharp—anything that could serve as a weapon against the nightmare I found myself in. I could grab a knife from the kitchen on the way out. Perfect.
The house was silent around me. My heart raced as I crept past the kitchen grabbing a knife, past his office where secrets lay coiled like snakes among papers. He could be anywhere—or nowhere—but that didn’t matter anymore.
I paced the dimly lit hallway, my heart racing with a mix of fear and fury. My phone felt heavy in my hand, a lifeline I almost didn’t want to use. But I had to try—had to reach out to Callista one last time. What happened to her? Why did she run? I needed answers.
With trembling fingers, I tapped her name and pressed call. The ring echoed in the silence, each tone a reminder of the distance that had grown between us. When voicemail kicked in, frustration bubbled up inside me.
“Callista, it’s me,” I said, fighting back the sting of tears. “Please call me back. I need to know what’s going on.”
I shoved my phone into my pocket and clenched my fists. No way was I going to be a prisoner here—not when Callista had escaped. Determination surged through me as I slipped out of Hades' house, my breath hitching in my throat at the sight of the sprawling night outside.
The chill nipped at my skin as I stepped onto the driveway, glancing around for any sign of life beyond those walls. My mind raced with possibilities; should I call an Uber? The thought made sense, but as soon as I opened the app, frustration struck again—the screen froze.
