“You’re Persephone Rossi, right?”
She was getting used to that question and learning to dread it.
“I am,” she said hesitantly. “Can I…help you?”
The girl picked up a magazine that rested on top of the books she cradled against her chest. It was the Delphi Divine. The cover was a picture of Hades. The headline read God of the Underworld Credits Journalist for The Halcyon Project.
She took it, flipping to the full spread and started reading, rolling her eyes.
Probably the worst part—aside from the article suggesting that the reason for the project was because Hades had fallen for the ‘beautiful, blond mortal’—was that they’d sourced a picture of her. It was the headshot they’d taken for
her internship at New Athens News.
“Is it true?” the girl asked. “Are you really dating Lord Hades?”
Persephone looked at her and stood, shouldering her backpack. She didn’t think there was a word to describe what was happening between her and the God of the Dead. Hades had called her his lover, but Persephone would still describe herself as a prisoner—and that would be the case until the contract was removed.
Instead of answering the girl, Persephone asked, “You do know the Divine is a gossip magazine?”
“Yes but...he created The Halcyon Project just for you.”
“It isn’t for me,” she said starting past the girl. “It’s for mortals in need.”
“Still, don’t you think that’s romantic?”
Persephone paused and turned to face the girl.
“He listened. There’s nothing romantic about that.”
The girl looked confused, but Persephone wasn’t interested in romanticizing Hades for doing something all men should be doing and she told the girl as much.
“So, you don’t think he likes you?” she asked.
“I’d much rather he respect me,” she answered.
Respect could build an empire. Trust could make it unbreakable. Love could make it last forever.
And she would know Hades respected her when he removed this stupid mark on her skin.
“Excuse me,” she said, and left. It was close to lunch and she had a date with Lexa and Sybil. After La Rose, she and Lexa had kept their distance from Adonis, but they’d grown attached to Sybil and the twins, Aro and Xeres.
Persephone left Hestia Hall and crossed campus, cutting through the Garden of the Gods. The scent of Hades’ magic was the only warning she had before she was teleported. She appeared in a different part of the garden where narcissus bloomed, standing face-to-face with Hades. He reached forward, gripped the back of her neck, and brought his lips to hers. She kissed him eagerly, but she was distracted by the article and her thoughts around the contract.
When he pulled away, he stared at her a moment, and then asked, “Are you well?”
Her stomach flipped. She wasn’t used to that question, or the way he asked it—in a voice echoing with sincerity and concern.
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly. Tell him—ask him about the contract, she commanded herself. Demand he free you if he wishes to continue being with you. Instead, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
The corners of his lips turned up, and he brushed his thumb over the bottom of her lip. “I came to say goodbye.”
“What?”
The question came out more demanding than she wanted. What did he mean he was saying goodbye? He chuckled under his breath, and answered, “I must go to Olympia for Council.”
Council for the gods occurred quarterly unless there was a war. If Hades was going, that meant Demeter would be going, too.
“Oh.” She blushed. “How long?”