“Why would you ask me to create life here?” She tried to keep her voice from sounding so despondent, but she couldn’t manage it, standing at the center of her dream manifested outside of her head. He stared at her for a moment, and then, with a wave of his hand, the roses and peonies and willows were gone. In their place was nothing but desolate land. She looked at Hades.
“It is illusion,” he said. “If it is a garden you wish to create, then it will truly be the only life here.”
She stared half in awe, half in disgust at the land before her. So all this beauty was Hades’ magic? And he maintained it effortlessly? He was truly a powerful god.
He called the illusion back, and they continued walking through the garden. As she followed Hades, she was reminded of the time she spent in the glass greenhouse where her mother’s flowers bloomed so easily and the promise she’d made never to return. Now she realized she would just trade one prison for another if she failed to fulfill the terms of their contract.
Finally, they came to a low, stone wall where a plot of land remained barren, and the soil at their feet was the color of ash.
“You may work here,” he said.
“I still don’t understand,” Persephone said, and Hades looked at her. “Illusion or not, you have all of this beauty. Why demand this of me?”
“If you do not wish to fulfill the terms of our contract, you have only to say so, Lady Persephone,” Hades said. “I can have a suite prepared for you in less than an hour.”
“We do not get along well enough to be housemates, Hades.” He looked amused, and she lifted her chin. “How often am I allowed to come here and work?”
“As often as you want,” he said. “I know you are eager to complete your task.”
She looked away, and then bent to scoop up a handful of the sand. It was silky and fell through her fingers like water. She considered how she would plant the garden. Her mother could create seeds and sprout them out of nothing. Persephone couldn’t touch a plant without it wilting. Perhaps she could convince Demeter to give her a few of her own seedlings. Divine magic would have a better chance in this dirt than anything a mortal might offer.
She thought through her plan, and when she rose to her feet, she found Hades watching her again. She was getting used to his gaze, but it still made her feel exposed. It didn’t help that she only wore Hades’ black robe.
“And…how shall I enter the Underworld?” she asked. “I’m assuming you don’t wish me to return the way I came.”
“Hmm,” he said, tilting his head to the side, as if considering something. She had only known him for three days but had seen him do this before when he was particularly amused. It was a move he made when he already knew how he was going to act.
Even with that knowledge, she was surprised when he took her by the shoulders and pulled her flush against him. Her arms shot out, fitting against his chest. When his lips met hers, she lost her grip on reality. Her legs gave out, and Hades arms slipped around her, holding her tighter. His mouth was hot and consuming. He kissed her with everything—his lips and teeth and tongue—and she reciprocated with just as much passion, and though she knew she should not encourage him, her body had a mind of its own.
As her hands moved up his chest and around his neck, Hades made a sound deep in his throat that both thrilled and frightened her. Then they were moving, and she felt the stone wall at her back. When he lifted her off the ground, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was so much taller than her, and this position allowed him to trace her jaw with his lips, nip at her ear, and kiss down her neck. The sensation made her gasp, and she arched against him, driving her fingers through his hair, loosening the tie that held his dark strands in place, and when his hands moved under her dress, grazing soft, sensitive skin, she cried out, gripping his hair in her hands.
That’s when Hades pulled away. His eyes lit with a need she felt deep in her core, and they struggled to catch their breath. For a long moment, they remained still. Hades hands were still under her robe, gripping her thighs. Neither of them was sure what to do—she wouldn’t stop him if he continued. His fingers were dangerously close to her core, and she knew he could feel her heat. Still, if she gave into this need, she couldn’t say how she might feel after, and for some reason, she didn’t want to regret Hades.
Maybe he sensed that, too, because he pried his fingers from her flesh and lowered her to the ground. His dark hair fell in waves well past his shoulders, creating a dark halo around his face.
“Once you enter Nevernight, you have only to snap your fingers, and you will be brought here.”
The color drained from her face, and she stopped breathing for a moment. Of course, she thought. He was bestowing favor. In the aftermath of the kiss, Persephone felt ashamed. Why had she allowed this? Why had she allowed things to get so intense?
She knew not to trust the God of the Underworld—not even his passion.
She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge.
“Can’t you offer favor another way?” she snapped.
He looked amused. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
She blushed and touched her tingling lips with shaking fingers. Hades eyes flashed, and for a moment, she thought he might pick up where they left off.
And she couldn’t let that happen.
“I should go,” she said.
Hades nodded once, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Hades snapped his fingers. The world shifted, and they were in her room. It was still dark outside, but the clock beside her bed read five in the morning. She had an hour before she had to be up and ready for work.