“Regret for what?”
“That he was not always so generous.”
Persephone let that comment sink in. So, Hades regretted his past, and therefore refused to celebrate his present? That was ridiculous and damaging. Maybe the reason he never tried to change what others thought of him was because he believed all of the things people said.
He probably believed her, which is why her words were so important to him.
“Come, my lady,” Thanatos said. “I will show you back to the palace.”
As the two walked, she asked, “How long has it been since he hosted a party at the palace?”
Thanatos’ brows rose. “I don’t know that he ever has.”
That was about to change—and so was Hades’ opinion of himself.
Before Persephone left the Underworld, she stopped to let Hecate know her plans, and also informed her of her new-found ability to sense life.
Hecate’s eyes widened. “You are sure?”
She nodded. “Can you help me, Hecate?”
She was glad to sense magic, but she had no idea how to harness it. If she could learn how to use it and fast, she could fulfill the terms of her contract with Hades.
“My dear,” Hecate said. “Of course, I’ll help you.”
CHAPTER XXI – A TOUCH OF INSANITY
When Persephone returned home on Sunday, she stayed up late and worked on her article, finishing around five o’clock in the morning. She decided to write about the gala and The Halcyon Project, and started the article with an apology, writing, I was wrong about the God of the Underworld. I accused him of carelessly engaging mortals in bargains that led to their deaths. What I have learned is that these contracts are far more complicated and the motives far more pure.
She stood by her original statement that Hades should offer help in a different manner, but acknowledged that The Halcyon Project was, in fact, a direct result of a conversation they’d had adding, “When other gods might retaliate for my candid review of their character, Lord Hades asked questions, listened, and changed. What more could we want from our gods than that?”
Persephone laughed to herself. Never in her lifetime would she have thought she’d suggest that Hades was the standard by which all other gods should be measured, but the more she learned about him, the more she felt that might be the case. Not that Hades was perfect—in fact, it was his imperfection and willingness to acknowledge it—that made him a god unlike any other.
You’re still in a contract with him, she reminded herself before she put the Lord of the Underworld on too high a pedestal.
After her visit to Elysium and her conversation with Thanatos, she’d wanted to ask Hades so many questions yesterday—why me? What did you see when you looked at me? What weakness did you wish to challenge within me? What part of me were you hoping to save? What destiny had the Fates forged for her that Hades wished to challenge?
But she hadn’t gotten the chance.
When Hades had returned to the Underworld, he’d gathered her into his arms and taken her to bed, shattering all rational thoughts.
Coming home had been exactly what she needed—it had given her the distance to remind herself that if she wanted…whatever was between her and Hades to work, the contract had to end.
After a couple hours of sleep, Persephone got ready for the day. She had to put in a few hours at her internship and then head to class. While she was in the kitchen making coffee, Lexa came home.
Persephone poured her a cup and slid it across the counter.
“How was your weekend?”
Lexa beamed. “Magical.”
Persephone snorted, but she could relate—she wondered if she and her best friend had similar experiences.
“I’m happy for you, Lex.” She’d said it before, and she’d say it many times after.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Lexa said, and started toward her room, but paused. “Oh, I meant to ask…how was the Underworld?”
Persephone froze. “What do you mean?”