Page 45 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

“Regretting last night.”

Minthe chuckles. “I bet she is. Girl drinks like a fish but sinks like a stone.”

I laugh. Then I sigh, inhaling deep into my lungs the smell of the land in the crisp early morning. Minthe makes a show of rubbing her arms. “You’re not cold?”

“No. I like it out here. It’s peaceful.”

Minthe’s eyes drift from me to the scenery. She settles in. “Yeah, it is.” We’re silent for a minute before Minthe asks, “Do you miss it?”

“What?”

“Home.”

Something I can’t begin to explain twists in my heart. As she waits for my answer, she lifts her feet onto the chair, curling her arms around her legs. I twist my lips to the side, nibbling on the corner even as I feel her waiting eyes on me. Finally, I answer. “No. Home has never felt like home to me.”

“Does this feel like home?”

I can’t help but look at her. There’s something about her green eyes that calls to me, urging me to look at her, to take in all of her, including the twisting green vines that are inked into the skin of her feet and legs, like the earth is forever trying to be one with her. She’s so beautiful, reminding me of a woodland sprite—if such things existed.

I shake my head and force my gaze away. “I’ve never felt home like I do here. In Greece. With…”

“With?” she urges. There is hungry curiosity burning in the depths of her voice.

I swallow hard, letting my eyes drift back to her. Then I lie. “I don’t know.”

She sings coyly, “I think you do.”

I swallow another gulp of coffee, pouting because the cup is nearly empty.

Minthe shifts in her chair before she rises. Ifeelher move closer more than I see her, and before I know it, she’s lowering her body in front of mine, catching my eyes as her knees connect with the uneven stone patio.

I don’t know why, but my heart flutters in my chest. Something warm and soft rises inside me, ballooning in my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was love that grew inside me. Love for Minthe.

Unease blooms on the impossibility of yet more proof of my insanity. How can I think I love this woman whom I hardly know?

Minthe lays her hands on my thighs, her eyes pinned to mine. She speaks with a seriousness that is unusual for her, and yet I sense the genuineness within it. “You can talk to me about anything, Persephone. Anything at all. Anytime. I will never, ever judge you.” She rises, catching my face between her hands as my breaths snag in my lungs. Her face is close to mine now, her eyes pinning mine. She vows, “I will always be on your side. I’vealwaysbeenon your side.”

I don’t know how or why, but I sense her words aretruer than I can possibly understand. Truer than I have the capacity to realize.

I frown and stutter, “I feel like I know you.”

Her lips curl into a smile, her pixie-bob bouncing when she laughs that musical laugh. “You do know me.”

“No.” I search her eyes that feel so suddenly familiar as she lets her hands drop to her sides. “Like I’ve known you longer than I have.” I shake my head again, frustrated with myself as I place my empty cup on the table. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Weird stuff has been happening to me lately, and I’m justsorry.”

Minthe leans against the table in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head to the side. “What weird things?”

“Can I trust you?” As soon as I ask the words, something inside me—intuition, possibly, tells me that I can trust her. “Never mind.”

“Of course, you can trust me,” Minthe pushes.

“No, I mean never mind because I know I can.”

Something sparks in her eyes. Something like hope and excitement bleeding into one burst of emotion, swimming like fireflies. “How do you know that?”

“Well, you just told me I can.” I smirk at her, because this is such a weird conversation. “And I sense it. Sense that I can trust you.”

She’s quiet for a moment, but her eyes never leave mine. “Kind of like you sensed the stairs under theearth? Like you sensed there was more to the temple than we all thought?”

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