Page 162 of A Touch of Chaos

“I can usually lose myself in you,” she said. “But I don’t think even you can chase away this darkness.”

“I’m not trying to chase it away,” Hades said. “I just want to help you live with it.”

“It has changed me. I am not the same, Hades.”

“I do not expect you to be,” he said. “But you are not so different that I do not recognize you.”

“You say that now,” she said. “But there are parts of me that I do not even know. Thoughts I think that are not even mine.”

He studied her for a few moments and then brushed a strand of her hair from her face.

“Except they are yours…aren’t they? They are just different and darker?”

She started to cry again. “I do not want to be angry,” she whispered.

“You do not have to be angry forever,” he said. “But it may serve you well right now.”

Persephone leaned forward, resting her forehead against Hades’s shoulder. He threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her temple.

“I will love you through this,” he whispered. “I will love you beyond this.”

And he would murder everyone responsible for her pain.

CHAPTER XXXI

PERSEPHONE

The Stadium of Olympia was monumental. Crafted from marble, it was built between two steep hills, which gave the impression that it was sinking. The tiered seats of the arena were packed, brimming with mortals eager to see the gods and demigods clash. Between Theseus’s accusations that a god had kidnapped his wife and child and Aphrodite’s accusations that he and his followers were responsible for the deaths of Adonis, Tyche, and Hypnos, these games were no longer about the lives lost, though they never really had been, and Persephone mourned that, especially for Tyche, who deserved to be honored.

Aphrodite’s announcement about the games and Helios’s claims about Persephone had both drawn nonstop media attention, and the energy of the arena was palpable. Persephone was anxious to expose herself to thousands of people who now saw her as a murderer.

She inched closer to Hades. They were already pressed together, standing on the floor of his golden chariot,waiting in line with other Olympians for the signal to move and enter the arena. They were surrounded by both friends and enemies. Before her was the fiery helm of Ares, behind her the golden helm of Apollo.

She relaxed the moment Hades’s palm came to rest low on her stomach and shivered when his lips brushed her ear.

“Do you think I would let anyone harm you?” he asked.

“No,” she said, covering his hand with her own. “But I cannot help being afraid.”

There was a hostility in the air she had never felt before, and she knew part of it was directed at her.

“You did not have to come,” he said.

She turned her head to the side but didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on their surroundings. She could feel Hades’s magic blazing around them, an invisible inferno warning away any potential threat, and while that might work on his fellow Olympians, she did not believe for a second it would scare away Theseus or his demigods.

If they were going to demonstrate the power of their weapons, they would do so today at the games, and what better way than to target her? The goddess who had murdered her mother?

“It would be worse if I didn’t,” she said.

“Worse for who exactly?”

“If I hide from the public, I look guilty,” she said.

It did not matter that shewas.

“Choosing safety is not hiding,” Hades replied.

“You said I was safe,” she pointed out.

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