Page 80 of A Touch of Chaos

“I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s find Hades.”

She stumbled forward, and Ariadne followed.

Crossing the center of the labyrinth was like crossing a vast ocean. There was no measure of progress because there was nothing in either direction except the sandy ground and the dark ceiling. Persephone could not decide which was worse—this or the dark corridors of the maze. What if they made it to the other side without seeing Hades at all?

But then she caught sight of something—a dark disruption in the distance—and suddenly she felt like her heart was beating in every part of her body.

“Hades,” she said, breathless.

And then without realizing it, she was running. Nothing had ever seemed farther away as she raced to him. The closer she got, the more details she could make out. She could see that he was suspended from the ceiling by his wrists, that he stood on a round platform like some kind of sacrifice. His chin rested against his chest; his tangled hair curtained his face.

She didn’t think twice as she scaled the platformupon which he hung. She threw her arms around him, and there was such peace in her body as she clung to him.

“Hades,” she whispered.

She drew away and touched his face.

He stirred and opened his eyes—dark, almost black.

“Hades,” she said.

He frowned and lowered his brows like he was confused to see her here. “Persephone?”

“It’s me,” she said. “I’m here.”

He swallowed, studying her. “This is a dream,” he said.

“It is not a dream,” she said, and she rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him. When she pulled away, he seemed more awake.

“Persephone,” he said, and he jerked his arms as if his instinct was to take her into his arms. The chains clanked, reminding them both that he was still a prisoner of the labyrinth. “How?”

“I came to rescue you,” she said, stroking his face. In the time they’d been apart, his beard had grown fuller. It felt wiry beneath her hands, but she didn’t care.

Hades closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

“I have dreamed of this,” he said before gazing down at her again.

She smiled up at him, her eyes falling to his lips, and while she’d have liked to kiss him, she knew they had to get out of here. She drew back, her fingers hanging in the loops of the net draped around him. She couldn’t pull it off with his hands restrained.

“It has to be cut,” he said. “So far, the only success I’ve had is with a lion’s claw.”

“A lion’s claw,” Persephone repeated, fumbling forthe one she’d used to kill the bull. She pulled the bloodied thing out of her pocket, and Hades offered a breathless laugh.

“You are…perfect,” he said as she sliced through the impenetrable thread Ariadne had spun. She probably cut it more than she needed, but there was a part of her that felt such anger toward the thing that had hurt so many people, including her husband.

When she was finished, she met Hades’s gaze.

“I don’t know how to help you out of the chains,” she said, but he was already working on that.

He dug in his heels and pulled, the manacles cutting into his already raw wrists. Hades didn’t seem to notice, even as his arms shook and his muscles bulged.

Finally, she heard a satisfying snap, and his hands were free and then she was in his arms and nothing else mattered.

He held her so tight, her ribs ached, but she didn’t care. She clung to him, her arms locked around him, and with her head buried in the crook of his neck, she sobbed.

“Oh, darling,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble, twisting his fingers into her hair. “How I hoped I would see you again.”

Persephone met Hades’s gaze. She wanted to say something similar—that she had dreamed of him, that every day without him had been misery, but those words were left on the tip of her tongue as Ariadne joined them on the platform.

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