Page 69 of Queen of the Underworld

He told himself that on repeat as he discarded one half of the pomegranate, and then plucked one of the jewel-like crimson seeds from the half he had kept and popped it in his mouth, savouring the explosion of flavour as he broke the skin. He looked down at the fruit and then at Persephone as she glided deeper into the trees, replaying her reaction to his offer of half of it.

She was wise to him.

She knew that eating this fruit, in particular, would bind her to his realm.

To him.

No matter. He would find another way to keep her with him and buy himself the time to make her fall in love with him.

He trailed after her, drinking his fill of her as she explored the orchard, watching as she relaxed by degrees and even began humming to herself. He had done that. He had drawn her out of the darkness and all it had taken was bringing her close to this small patch of nature.

He ate another seed. Had Nyx gone to Olympus as he had requested? By the gods, he hoped she didn’t take it upon herself to reveal where Persephone was. He hadn’t missed the looks Nyx had given him, ones that had backed up her words and made it clear she felt it wasn’t wise to keep Persephone.

He knew that, but he couldn’t give her up.

Hades gazed at his little goddess, an urge to sigh sweeping through him as she meandered through the trees, looking as if she belonged among them, here in his dark realm. She almost looked happy as she reached her arm up and feathered fingers over a glossy red pomegranate.

But then her hand dropped to the trunk of the tree and that happiness became disappointment.

And he knew why.

It was his fault.

He had bound her powers so she couldn’t use them in his realm, and she had hoped the ward he had cast to seal them had been placed on the tower. She slid him a look, one that cut his soul to ribbons, and he discovered he couldn’t bear seeing her so disappointed, but he also couldn’t bring himself to allow her access to her powers.

She might escape him.

Leave him.

“Did you make these?” She took in the trees again, shaking off her disappointment, but it lingered, there in the depths of her green gaze as she stroked the bark.

How did the absence of her power feel to her?

He had been without his for the first centuries of his life, when he had been trapped within his father, devoured by him and held within another realm. That had been so long ago that he couldn’t recall what it had been like to be powerless and he suspected what he had felt then wouldn’t come close to how Persephone felt now. He hadn’t known his powers or formed a sort of bond with them. She had. She’d had them all her life and he had taken them from her, locking them away.

Did it make her feel empty?

Hades regretted that it might, and part of him wanted to apologise for the precaution he had taken, but rather than revealing that he had a weakness she could exploit—a power she had over him that made him want to do whatever she bid in order to please her—he focused on answering her question.

He nodded. “In a fashion. I had them transported here.”

“So, they were not grown here?” She eyed them suspiciously, her gaze calculating, and he had the feeling she was trying to figure out whether that meant she could eat the fruit, since they were not of this realm.

He could have lied to her, enticing her into eating their fruit, but he didn’t want their relationship to be built on a foundation of lies, so he said, “They were saplings when I planted them and this earth has nourished them, with help from my horses, so for all intents and purposes, they were grown here… and the fruit is born of this soil.”

“How long have they been here?” She explored one of the trunks with both hands, coming to face the tree, and placing her side to him. She had a beautiful profile, and a face filled with wonder as her gaze tracked the branches that fanned outwards above her. She was enjoying herself, and it warmed his heart to see it, soothing some of his fear and relaxing him. “They look as if they must be at least fifty years old.”

“Nine hundred years.” He liked the shocked look she turned on him. “They have been here nine hundred years.”

She gaped at him. “They are older than I am.”

He slid a surprised look at her, one he couldn’t quite conceal before she saw it.

She frowned at him now, a little pout to her lips. “I am not so young. It is not my fault you are soold.”

She swept away from him, her steps light, and glanced over her shoulder when she rounded another tree. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat before she disappeared from view. She was teasing him.

No one had ever dared to tease him before.

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