Page 24 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

She says nothing, simply walks to where I wait at the door. I lead her into the kitchen where I’ve prepared a salad with grilled chicken. She slides cautiously into a seat, gazing around. “Are we the only ones on the boat?”

I place the salad in front of her. “Yes.”

She lifts the fork, but doesn’t stab the salad. Hereyes are fixed on me when she asks, “Why am I here, Hades?”

“Like I said, we need to talk.”

“What do we need to talk about?”

“Why you want to leave me.” I lean against the counter, never allowing my eyes to drift from her.

“I’m uncomfortable, Hades. Knowing that I look like your late wife is—it’s uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

For once, no color rises in her cheeks. In fact, she looks sickly pale as she tucks a strand of white-blonde hair behind her elven-tipped ear. “It makes me feel like you don’t wantme, but that I’m a standing replacement for her.” There’s that shimmer of wet in her eyes again. “I don’t want to be a replacement for a woman you loved Hades. I—I can’t. It hurts too much.”

“You are not a replacement for her.”You are her.

Her head tips to the side. “What drew you to me the night we met?”

Your soul.“Everything.”

She rolls her lips together. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Herman is one of my—nephews. But we were close, like brothers. So much that I once called him brother. We had…” I pause, swallowing the swell of rage that rises at the thought of his betrayal, and all that it cost me. “We had a falling out a long time ago. He—he is responsible for the death of my wife.”

Her inhale is sharp with shock and horror. “Hades.”

“In retaliation, I took something away from him. Something he cherished dearly, and has been lost without.” I hold her soft eyes with my own. “He saw you, and he saw the resemblances you bear to my late wife. He aimed to hurt you, knowing that it would, in turn, hurt me.”

She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking it in thought. “How is he responsible for your wife’s death?”

“He brought her murderer into my home.”

If I thought her skin was pale before, it is ghostly now. If I were human, I may not have heard her whisper, “She was murdered?”

“Yes.”

She pushes her salad away, sliding from the table to stand before me. When she tips her head back to look up at me, her emerald eyes are alight with compassion. I have to buckle my knees to keep from falling at her feet.

Her small hand touches my chest. Fire flares in my veins. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t let him take you from me, too.”

Her lips part on another sharp inhale. “Hades.”

“I won’t survive,” I tell her honestly.

She peers up at me for a long moment. “What did you take from him?”

“His right to come into my home. His right to—” I pause and she waits patiently. “Work for me.”

“He worked for you?”

“Yes.” It’s not the whole truth, but it’s all I can give her.

“I see.” She rolls her lovely lips. It physically hurts me not to claim them with my own in a kiss that sears her like a brand.

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