Page 8 of Hades

If she let the darkness take her, then it would take Hades too.

She wasn’t sure the Underworld would be able to weather a storm of that magnitude.

Already the landscape was changing with Hades’s mood, and the sky had been a constant swirl of crimson for the last few weeks. Unrest was spreading across the land too, keeping the legions busy. Hades’s mood affected everything in this realm because the two of them were tied by deep roots, bound together until they were almost one.

The evidence of that rose in the distance beyond the palace grounds—a great jagged onyx mountain that spewed fire and ash, the face of which was scarred with glowing orange rivers of lava.

It hadn’t been there last week.

And it hadn’t erupted before this morning.

Shortly after Hades had left for Tartarus with Keras, their eldest son.

The quake had woken her, and had sent Megan flying from her bed according to her second-eldest son, Ares. His mood had been dark when she had come across him in the parlour, his anger directed at his father. She could understand why. Hades had given every one of his children his protective streak. Ares had grumbled something and had taken off, scrubbing his hand through his wild tawny hair, pulling threads of it loose from the leather band that secured it at the back of his head.

There had been fire in her son’s eyes.

She wasn’t surprised to see him coddling Megan and their infant daughter in the orchard now, doting on them both with loving smiles and tender gestures. Ares would move mountains to keep his wife and daughter safe and happy.

Persephone feared he might have to do just that.

They all might if they were going to survive this.

She sighed and reached through the earth again, seeking Hades, and still unable to find him. He wasn’t at Tartarus and he hadn’t returned yet. Where had he gone?

Perhaps Ares would know the answer to that question.

She gathered her skirts and hurried along the corridor, heading downwards when she reached the vestibule and straight out of the door. She slowed then, acting with some decorum in case the guards were watching. It wouldn’t do to appear harried. Word would spread to the other guards and then to the rest of the population of the Underworld. Her family, and her in particular, needed to appear as if everything was in hand and they were confident this threat would be eliminated soon.

Hades wasn’t doing such a good job of keeping up appearances. The new volcano was testament to that. She would have been as frustrated as her husband if she had been in his shoes though. He questioned Eris daily, and each day she refused to tell him anything useful.

No matter what he did to her.

Persephone was no fool. She was not blind.

She knew Hades, Thanatos and even Keras had been torturing the goddess, and while she knew it was necessary, the thought of her husband and her son harming another like that turned her stomach.

Not because she was a goddess of life, but because she knew the toll it was taking on them even when they tried to hide it from her.

Hades had a fragile hold on his darker side right now. That part of his nature he battled daily to keep under control was rising to the fore again.

And she worried that this routine was affecting Keras in the same way, giving the darkness a firmer hold over him.

She had spoken at length about it to Enyo, Keras’s wife, and the Olympian goddess of war had promised to watch over Keras and ensure he didn’t lose himself to his darker side. When Persephone had caught the concern in Enyo’s steady gaze, she had sworn she would do the same with Hades in return. Enyo was as perceptive as the man she had married and knew Hades was struggling with the darkness himself.

Persephone had been right. Enyo was perfect for Keras. She always had been. She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes as she crossed the broad path and cut through the garden towards the orchard. It was too late now to regret not pushing the two of them together sooner so they would realise the same thing she had quicker—they had been made for each other.

She pushed aside thoughts of how many grandchildren she might have had by now and focused on the one she did have.

Adora gurgled in her mother’s arms, lifted her hands and caught Megan’s long brown hair in her tiny fist.

And yanked.

“Ouch!” Megan bit out as her head jerked towards Adora, and a scowl darkened her delicate features when the infant only smiled and gurgled more happily in response. As if sensing the grin slowly working its way onto his lips, Megan slid her husband a warning look, and then held the babe out to him. “You see how you like it. She has your strength. You should suffer because of it.”

Ares’s smile faded before it really appeared and he swept the child into his thickly muscled arms and cradled her against his broad chest. Adora was a shock of scarlet, cream and pink against his black T-shirt and tanned skin, completely at odds with him, and Persephone almost smiled at how she ruined his unyielding and lethal warrior appearance.

She did smile when her son bent his head towards Adora and made a silly face, causing the babe to erupt in giggles.

---