Page 107 of A Touch of Chaos

“So the mountains will hold?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. “But if they are too much for you, I will change them.”

She was quiet, and after a moment, she turned in his arms, tilting her head back to hold his gaze, and his eyes fell to her mouth. She was so beautiful and so haunted, all he wanted to do was bring her comfort. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, and though the kiss was gentle, they held each other tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he pulled away, smoothing his thumb over her jaw. “I did not mean for you to wake alone.”

She watched him, eyes seeking something in his expression, and he grew anxious, thinking she was not finding what she was looking for.

“I know you left the Underworld,” she said. “Where did you go?”

He tried not to look surprised, but he could safely say he had not expected her to ask or to know that he had left at all, and while she likely knew that, she did not seem angry, only curious and concerned.

His gaze fell as he sought her hands, which were twisted into his robes.

“I went to say goodbye to my mother.”

Persephone’s brows lowered. “What do you mean goodbye?”

He could tell by the way she asked that she knew what he meant, so he said nothing.

“Oh, Hades,” she said and took his face between her hands before sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. ‘“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her and swallowedhard, trying to loosen the sharp knot in his throat, fighting each wave of emotion as it welled in his chest. The irony that he would mourn his mother was not lost on him. It was indeed some sort of divine vengeance given that he had been so cold toward Persephone when Lexa died.

“I don’t see why death matters,” he’d told her. “You come to the Underworld every day. You would have seen Lexa again.”

“Because it’s not the same,” she’d said, and at the time, he hadn’t understood, but suddenly he did. It didn’t matter that he could see her here—in another life. It was the simple fact that she had died out there. It was that she had been alone when Cronos had come for her. That he had killed her prized lions before he’d slammed his spear into her chest. It was that all she’d wanted was to see the sun rise a final time. It was that he would never forget looking upon her face as the veil of death descended to see a single tear on her cheek.

It was not the same because nothing would stop him from remembering everything that had preceded her existence within his realm.

“He killed her,” Hades said.

Persephone drew back. “Who?”

“Cronos,” he said and looked away, staring off toward Tartarus, and while Persephone had feared that her mountains would not hold Iapetus, she had forgotten that his had failed to contain his father. “I think I am next.”

“Don’t say that,” she said.

He didn’t want to scare her. It was just the truth.

“How do we stop him?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

He had been thinking about it since Theseus had taunted him with the news of his father’s release in the labyrinth. They had succeeded before because the Olympians had been united against the Titans and because Zeus had his lightning bolt, Poseidon, his trident, and Hades, the Helm of Darkness.

Now, the Olympians were divided. Some did not even have magic, and the Helm of Darkness was in Theseus’s possession.

Not that Cronos would fall for those tactics again. They would have to think of something different and soon, but he also knew that he could not face his father with this wound. If he was being honest, it hurt, worse even than it had the day before, and he knew it would get to the point where he could not ignore it any longer. It was impacting his ability to plan.

Persephone turned on her heels.

“Persephone?” he called.

She did not stop.

“Persephone, where are you going?” he asked, catching up with her in the hall. She did not slow her quick stride.

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