Demeter’s cold gaze returned to Persephone. Her hazel eyes turning yellow in the candlelit.
“Are you accusing me of something, Daughter?”
Persephone felt a little uneasy. It occurred to her that her mother might be responsible for more than Leuce’s release from the poplar tree—what other plans did she have to force her away from Hades?
“You released Hades’ former lover from her prison,” Persephone said.
“Why would I bother with something so trivial?” Demeter sounded bored, but Persephone wasn’t convinced.
“Good question, mother.”
Demeter turned from her daughter, and began snooping around her room, inspecting, judging. She pulled open her nightstand drawers and opened anything with the lid, wrinkling her nose.
“This place smells like Hades,” she said, and then she straightened, eyes narrowing upon Persephone. “You smell like him.”
Persephone crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her mother.
“I hope you’re using protection,” Demeter said. “That’s all you need—to be tied to the God of the Dead for the rest of your life.”
“That’s a given,” Persephone said. “You’re the only one who seems to think it isn’t.”
“You don’t know Hades,” she said. “You’re just now learning that for yourself. I know it bothers you. You fear what you don’t know.”
Persephone hated her mother for being right.
“I could say the same about you, mother. What don’t I know about you? What evils do you hide under your perfect facade?”
“Do not make this about me. You jumped into his arms as soon as he said he loved you. It is embarrassing that your judgement extends to his skin. I raised you better.”
“You didn’t raise me at all—”
“I imprisoned you,” Demeter interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Gods you are a broken record. I gave you everything. A home, friends, love. It wasn’t enough for you.”
“It wasn’t enough,” she snapped. “And it would have never been enough! Did you really think you could challenge Fate and win? You criticize other gods for their arrogance yet are the worst.”
Demeter smiled coldly. “The Fates may have given you what you wanted—a taste of freedom, a taste of forbidden love, but do not mistake their offer with kindness. The Fates punish, even gods.”
“They punished you,” Persephone said. “Not me.”
Demeter offered a small smile. “That remains to be seen, my flower. Do you know, the Fates named you? Persephone. I didn’t understand then how my precious, sweet flower could be given such a name. Destroyer. But that is what you are—a destroyer of dreams, of happiness, of lives.”
Persephone’s eyes glazed with tears as her mother spoke.
“Oh yes, my love. Enjoy what Fate has offered you because they have woven your destiny and you are a disgrace.”
Persephone kicked the candle, spilling wax and extinguishing the flame. Her mother’s form vanished, yet her scent lingered, choking her. She fell to her knees, breathing hard, when her door opened. Lexa, Sybil, and Leuce were gathered there.
“Persephone, are you okay?” Lexa rushed to her side. Sybil picked up the candle, looking perplexed. Leuce was the only one who seemed to know what was going on.
“Summoning spell?” she asked.
Persephone met the woman’s gaze and through her tears she said, “We need to talk.”
Lexa helped Persephone to her feet, and Sybil cleaned the wax up from the floor. Once they were finished, Persephone closed the door to her room. Leuce sat on the edge of her bed, eyes wide, twisting her fingers together in her lap. She probably thought Persephone was going to kick her out.
“I’ve asked Hades to give you an apartment and your job back,” she said.
Leuce’s breath caught in her throat. “Th-thank you, Persephone.”