Page 6 of Tempted By Hades

In the front of the shop, an array of houseplants greeted him. Potted ferns, spider plants, and succulents lined the shelves, their lush leaves reaching out in search of sunlight. The warm air was filled with the earthy scent of soil and the gentle aroma of blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the sterile atmosphere of the Underworld.

Along the back wall, a display of rare houseplants beckoned with their exotic beauty. Unusual species with vibrant, variegated leaves and intricate patterns stood as testaments to the skill and dedication of the shop’s caretakers. Each plant seemed to tell a story of its own, a living work of art.

He walked toward a doorway at the rear of the shop that revealed a hidden treasure trove of towering potted plants. These giants reached toward the high glass ceiling, their thick green foliage casting dappled shadows on the polished wooden floor. It was a hidden jungle within the city, a sanctuary that transcended the boundaries of the divine and mortal realms. He wondered if, perhaps, amid this verdant world, he would find the answers he sought about the mysterious message that had brought him here.

He returned to the front of the plant shop, his senses keen as he scanned the surroundings for someone who might help him in his quest. His divine perception quickly detected a presence that stood out from the ordinary mortals.

Approaching the counter, he found a young woman. Her appearance was unassuming, but there was something about her aura that intrigued him.

He assessed her carefully, his divine instincts alert. It was then that he sensed it—a subtle energy, a hidden identity. She was not a goddess but rather a shifter, a being with the ability to transform between human and animal forms. In her case, she was a wolf shifter.

The girl looked up from her task of arranging items around the cash register, her eyes meeting his with surprise and caution, but Hades did not miss the spark of intelligence behind them. She offered a polite smile, masking the intrigue he had sensed in her.

“How can I help you?” she inquired, her tone friendly yet her dark eyes guarded.

He wasted no time in getting to the heart of the matter. “I seek Demeter,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I am looking for a specific plant that I know she can help me find.” Of course, he already knew the goddess of the harvest was not around as he had seen her leave a few minutes before.

The girl’s surprise was evident as she responded, “Demeter isn’t around, but I know someone who can help.” She quickly turned her attention slightly behind her and called out, “Yo, P, there’s a customer that needs help.”

Hades couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the unexpected response. He waited, curious to see who this “P” was and what information they might provide regarding Demeter’s whereabouts.

A woman emerged from the back of the shop, wiping her dirt-covered hands on a stained apron. Her eyes widened in surprise when they fell upon Hades, a hint of curiosity flickering in her gaze.

She approached him, brushing a strand of straw-colored hair from her face, and asked in a voice filled with genuine interest, “What can I help you with? I’ll do my best to assist you.”

Hades took in her appearance, the familiarity of her presence stirring something deep within him. To most, she might seem like any ordinary human—mid-twenties, clear skin, a messy mane of blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders, dressed in jeans and a shirt. But to him, there was something about her that sent his own senses tingling. Like the wolf shifter, her aura gave off a different vibration, but this time, he could sense that divine magical signature that was unique in all gods and goddesses.

It was her.

He had found Demeter’s daughter. The goddess of spring herself.

Hades fixed his gaze on her, his eyes sharp as he assessed her. He could sense the complexity of her existence, her connection to both the mortal and divine realms.

On her apron was a name tag with Persephone written on it. “I am looking for the asphodel plant,” he began, “and I was informed that Demeter would know where to find it.”

Persephone’s expression registered even more surprise at the mention of her mother’s name. She blinked in response before nodding. “Mother is not around, but I can check if we have it in stock.”

She turned and walked to the register, her steps graceful yet purposeful. A mixture of anticipation and curiosity coursed through him.

“Asphodel,” she murmured. As she conducted her search on the register, concentration etched on her face, she absentmindedly rubbed her cheek. Unbeknownst to her, a smudge of soil from her hands marked her skin. Hades observed this simple, human gesture, his gaze momentarily softened by the unintentional touch of earth on her skin.

She began to read from the register, “The asphodel is a resilient perennial with elegant white or pink flowers, often associated with the afterlife.” She reached for a delicate necklace around her neck adorned with an iridescent pendant. Her fingers caressed the pendant gently, a gesture that seemed to ground her in a moment of silent contemplation. “It thrives in well-drained soil and prefers partial shade, making it a versatile choice for various environments. It grows in temperate areas in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East.”

Her words painted a vivid picture of the plant in Hades’s mind, its delicate blossoms contrasting against the backdrop of the Underworld.

“We don’t have it in stock,” she said, apologetic. She looked up at him. “I have to do a bit more research. But I do have several plants that resemble it or require similar conditions. Come, let me show you.”

Her words held a reassuring tone, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “I appreciate your help,” he replied, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. “Lead the way.”

He followed her through the plant shop, and his gaze coasted her form. There was an undeniable allure to her, an inherent grace that came with her divine nature. Yet, beneath her divine beauty, he noticed an innocence, a purity that seemed to shine through her every movement and expression.

Her hair cascaded down her back, reminiscent of the golden fields of grain that swayed in the breeze during the peak of summer. It was a hue that echoed the warmth of sunlight and the abundance of the earth.

She turned to him and pointed to some potted plants, explaining how they were similar to the asphodel. Her eyes, the color of the richest earth, held a depth of wisdom and curiosity, a reflection of the vast experiences she must have encountered in both the mortal and divine realms.

He found himself captivated not just by her physical beauty but by the aura of innocence that surrounded her. It was a rare quality, especially among gods, and he felt a sense of reverence for her purity in the midst of the divine intricacies.

Her fingers delicately traced the leaves of a plant, her gaze alight with knowledge and enthusiasm. “This,” she said, her voice taking on a melodic tone, “is the star-of-Bethlehem. Its delicate, star-shaped flowers resemble those of the asphodel. See?” She pointed to the flower buds, their pure white petals opening as if in response to her touch.

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