She thought of something Lexa had told her about what it meant to be a goddess. You are kind and compassionate and you fight for your beliefs, but mostly, you fight for people.
Persephone took a deep breath.
“And what am I supposed to do? Announce my Divinity to the world?”
“Oh, my dear, do not worry about how the world will come to know you.”
Persephone shivered, and while part of her wanted to know what Hecate meant, another part of her didn’t.
“Come, you wanted to practice.”
The Goddess sat on the grass and patted the spot beside her. Persephone sighed, knowing Hecate intended for her to meditate. She did not like meditating, but she had been working on drawing upon her magic, and while she was getting better, it was usually via Hades’ instruction she was most successful.
She took her place beside Hecate, releasing Nefeli to wander in the surrounding meadow. Hecate began, coaching her to close her eyes as she narrated how Persephone should think of her magic—as a well or pool that she could draw from anytime.
“Imagine the pool—glistening, cool.”
The problem was Persephone didn’t think of her magic as a pool at all—it was darkness, it was shadow. It wasn’t cool, it was fire. It wasn’t calm, it was furious. It has been locked away so long, freedom had made it feral. When she got close, it gnashed, sprouted, drew blood. It was the opposite of peace—the opposite of meditation.
While she sat with her eyes closed, she felt magic stir around her—it was Hecate’s—a heavy and ancient power that smelled like a fine wine, aged and sharp, and felt like dread. Her eyes flew open only to find that the small, fluffy dog from earlier had transformed into a massive hellhound. She was no longer cute, but fierce, her eyes glowed red, her teeth were long, sharp, and her jowls dripped, salivating with hunger.
Nefeli growled, Persephone’s eyes darted to Hecate who had moved to hover behind her new grim.
“Hecate—” Persephone’s voice took on an edge of warning.
“Yes, my lady?”
“Don’t my lady me,” she snapped. “What are you doing?”
“We’re practicing.”
“This isn’t practice!”
“It is. You must be prepared for the unexpected. Not all are as they appear, Persephone.”
“I think I get it. The dog isn’t cute.”
A deadly growl erupted from Nefeli’s throat. She inched toward Persephone like a predator cornering its prey, pinning her against the ground.
“Did she insult you, my sweet?” Hecate asked, her voice sweet but chiding.
Persephone glared at the goddess as she encouraged the hound she’d decried earlier.
“If you want her to yield, use your magic,” Hecate said.
Persephone’s eyes widened. What magic was she supposed to use to call off a hound? “Hecate—”
The goddess sighed. “Nefeli!”
As Hecate said the hound’s name, her ears went back, and for a brief moment, Persephone thought that she was going to call off the dog.
Instead, she said, “Attack.”
Persephone’s eyes widened, and in the next second, she teleported, landing in the grass beside the Aleyonia Ocean. She’d only been here once, on a night when she’d wandered from Hades’ palace and gotten lost. She rose onto her hands and knees, realizing that she’d missed falling from the cliffside by an inch. Her limbs shook as she settled into the grass, drawing her knees to her chest. She sat for a long while, letting the salty wind dry the tears that streaked her face, replaying what had happened in the meadow.
Teleporting had felt like her only option as soon as Hecate had given her orders, and while she was now safe, she also felt like she’d failed. She did not blame Hecate. She knew what the goddess was trying to teach her. She had to think faster. As soon as she had felt Hecate’s magic surround her, she should have been on alert. Instead, she’d grown too comfortable—so comfortable she had not taken her instruction seriously.
She would not make the same mistake a second time—because eventually, there would be no room for second chances.
CHAPTER VI – A TREAT
Persephone paced her bedchamber.
Hades had not returned since leaving her in the limo, and while she wasn’t anxious about his absence, she was nervous about trying to sleep without him. Each time she looked at their bed she felt dread. At least when Hades was here, she knew he would guard her sleep and wake her from her nightmares if Pirithous decided to show.
She paused in front of the fireplace, and her eyes fell to Hades’ decanter of whiskey. Curious, she picked it up studying the amber liquid. Through the crystal, it glittered like citrine gems. Once, she’d asked Hades why he preferred whiskey as his drink of choice.
“It’s healthy,” he’d said.
She’d snorted.
“It is,” he’d argued. “It helps me relax.”
“But you drink it constantly,” she pointed out.
He’d shrugged then. “I like to feel relaxed constantly.”
If it helped Hades relax, maybe it would help her.
She pulled the cap free and took a drink. It was surprisingly…sweet. It reminded her of vanilla and caramel, two ingredients she had a lot of experience with. She took another drink, detecting a hint of spice similar to Hades’ smell. She liked it. Tucking the bottle against her breasts, she left the bedroom and wandered into the kitchen, flipping on the lights which seemed far too bright after walking through the shadowed halls of the palace.
She was becoming more familiar with Milan’s kitchen—and surprisingly, the cook was happy to share the space, most likely because Persephone could teach him more modern recipes—in particular, he was eager to learn how to make cakes.
“You know,” Persephone had said one afternoon as she taught him how to decorate sugar cookies. “I’m sure there are plenty of celebrated chefs in Asphodel. Have you ever thought of bringing them into your kitchen?”
“I never had any reason to,” Milan said. “My Lord is a creature of habit—he has eaten the same thing for eternity—no wish for variety or…flavor.”
That sounded like Hades.
“I am sure he will be open to trying a few new dishes.”
“If the suggestion comes from your lips, I have no doubt he will bend to your will.”
Milan was not wrong. Persephone understood the power she wielded over Hades. He would do anything for her.
Burn the world for her.
Those words shuddered through her, their truth rang deep, and she wondered as the snow and ice coated the earth above, if Hades would hold true to his words.
She sighed and focused on her task. She decided that what she needed other than whiskey, were brownies. She set to work, locating ingredients, bowls, and measuring cups. She started by melting butter then mixed it with sugar. She took pleasure in beating the eggs—which was a good thing because she didn’t want to take her frustration out on the actual batter—over beating wouldn’t give her the texture she wanted. After the eggs, she added vanilla, flower, and cocoa powder. Once the batter was mixed, she poured it into a pan, smoothing the blunt end of her spoon over the top before sampling.