But, as it was on Olympus, my powers were there at my fingertips. I did not have to struggle to use them. I did not have to worry about them or pray to be allowed to have them.
I simply raised my hand and let my powers do what they needed to do, and what they needed to do was swirl over everything, clearing the ash away.
It is like bringing life, but it is not the same. It’s hard to describe. It was the erasure of the destruction. To bring warmth back to the chill and light to the darkness. Nothing new grows in the Underworld—nothing is actually alive save the souls themselves, which I cannot create here—but what exists can be changed. The magic turned ash to diamonds and quartz creating paths now embedded with beauty to guide those in this realm.
I didn’t ask Hades about the ash as he took me to bed. I knew from the look in his eyes that he would need time. All that has happened has been a nightmare for both of us, but especially for Hades, who could not follow me to Olympus.
“I would have,” he says against my shoulder as we lie in bed, leaning against the silk pillows with the sheets gathered around us. I rest my back against his strong chest. He strokes his fingers through my hair, working out the tangles he caused when he was over me in bed, and some of the ones I caused when I rode him, feeling the new angle of him inside me, learning the ones that gave me the most pleasure. “I would have come to you. I’d have broken the laws and allowed them to destroy my very soul if I could not have you again.” He whispers the wretched words.
“I know,” I answer simply and cover his hand with my own. My fingers slip through his. The calluses are rough against my soft skin. Hades flexes his fingers every so often. I don’t think he fully believes that I have returned.
I have.
Though I do not know if I can stay forever, nor if I want to.
However, I know that I cannot make such a choice without him. I love him too deeply to cause him pain. “I would have followed you to the Earth realm as well, if I could.”
“I know that, too.” I pause, thinking of all those prayers I heard. I cannot hear them here no matter how hard I listen, but I’m beginning to hear whispers. They are not yet clear enough for me to hear the words that they are saying. If I listen long enough, perhaps I will be able to understand them. “There are not as many souls coming into the Underworld,” I mention gently. “Is that because my mother and I did magic together?” I ask the question gently.
“Yes,” Hades says with a sigh. It does not sound resigned. It sounds proud. “It was quite the thing to witness, Persephone, if only from the Underworld.” My heart beats dully not wanting to think of my mother and her grief. When Olympus realizes I am gone, I don’t know what they will do, but that knowledge is not for me at this moment.
“And…things are healing here as well.”
“Now that you are here… I was not at my best in your absence.”
Hecate told me about the destruction of souls…and about what had occurred while I was on Olympus.
There’s a new tension between us as I choose my next words carefully, so I rub my fingertips along Hades’s rough knuckles. Whatever he did, it is not something that will separate us forever. I will not let it be.
“You sent demons,” I say, with my hand still over his. Hades’s demons are one of the few ways he can influence the mortal realm with the powers he has here, and they are one of the main reasons so many mortals cried out to me in prayer. They were desperate for help. Most of them had not faced demons in generations and did not know what to do to save themselves. According to Hecate, they prayed to every god and goddess they could name. The fear struck them in the heart and caused delusions and harm in ways that cannot be undone.
“I had fears of my own,” Hades admits. There is a small hint of defensiveness in his voice, but it is almost too quiet to hear. “As above, so below. As within, so without.”
I turn in his embrace, pushing up off his chest and putting my hand to his cheek. I press a kiss to his lips before I pull back and look into his eyes. “My king, you are more noble than that.”
He shakes his head, and I see it then—the pain in his eyes at what he did and how alone he felt. It is written there for me to see and to feel in my own heart.
“I know,” I murmur and lean in to kiss him again. He seems to need more of this, so I climb into his lap and let him rest his hands on my waist. I drape my arms over his shoulders and kiss him as gently as I can to soothe the deep ache in him. He’s hard underneath me, but we keep the sheet between us, and I stay on his lap without rocking into him, just giving him my presence. This is needed, too. “I know how much you hurt. I heard of how you suffered. I do not blame you.”
“Don’t you?” he asks, leaning his forehead against mine.
“No,” I say softly. “One cannot be blamed for such pain. You reacted in the way you did, and I’ve heard of it, and now the Underworld is healing again. Whatever hurt you caused is not permanent.”
“Some of it is.”
“And you can make up for it. You can be the ruler of your realms. You can be the king I know you are.”
“I would be any kind of king for you, my queen.”
His words force my chest to ache in a way that I’m becoming too familiar with. This tortuous pull that rests in hopelessness. I keep that pain inside me, not saying a word about it, until Hades seems to be able to relax and let go of some of the guilt he feels. I don’t think he should let go of it completely, nor do I think any ruler should—but he cannot suffer from it forever and let it corrupt him as a king. Afterall, the gods are flawed and it is in those flaws that balance lies.
He would never forgive himself.
I would forgive him, but he would not, and I cannot let that be his life.
We must move on from this. I do not wish to stay in this torment.
I pull back and put my hands on either side of his neck. He slides his hands from my wrists to my shoulders, then back down to my waist, watching me as he does.
