Page 45 of Hades and Persephone: Crown of Souls

The thought is disturbing.

And it's on that thought that I turn and head for the exit.

“Persephone,” Hades calls. My steps stutter, and then I keep going.

I need a minute.

I need some space.

Is that really so bad?

It's not like I'm going to find a portal into the living realm and escape. Essentially, I'm safe here in the Underworld, so long as I don't travel to Tartarus, of course.

The thought of Tartarus has a niggle of curiosity, an ember of interest, flaring. But,no, I promised Hades I wouldn't.

Well, did I promise him, though? Alluded to agreeing, perhaps. But promise? No. I didn'tactuallypromise I would never travel to Tartarus.

But I won't right now. Right now, I just—I need out of the Palace.

I need to be alone. I need to think. My thoughts are a webbed mess.

I'm attempting to declutter thread after thread when I find myself in what can only be a stable. Everything is done in shades of black and tones of rich, warm wood. To my surprise, none of the stalls have doors, even though there are horses inside. I recognize Alastor immediately. His dark eyes track me as I move cautiously into the stable.

I don't know why this is where I’ve led myself, but I'm here. Surprisingly, I don't feel unsafe, even though the beasts should frighten me.

I feel home in every part of this realm. As though this is where my soul was always meant to be. As though it was where it was made to exist, the pieces of me crafted to fit into the crevices of this very realm. I am one with this place, and I should be one with the man who is my mate. The fact he denies it—I just don't understand.

As soon as my eyes land on the beast, I can't look away. He's looking at me, too. I know he is a he. I sense it even as I don’t know how I know.

Perhaps it's a latent memory from a life lived centuries ago. I only know that my heart beats a little quicker, and there is recognition in my soul.

He looks, for the most part, like the others.

He is a shining, beautiful, regal black. He is slightly shorter than Alastor. There is a softening around his eyes that works to melt the frustration I’ve let ice over my heart. Maybe it’s the long sweep of his lashes that are a touch feminine. Maybe it’s thesweeping mane of ebony or the sleek tuft of hair that flows over his hooves like black booties. Or maybe it’s just him. He puts me at ease in a way I desperately need.

I think not once about closing the distance between us. As I previously mentioned, I've never been a horse girl. But for this one—well, I could be a horse girl for him.

As soon as I am close, he lets out a deep breath of air from his nostrils. I jump, but I don't jump away. I don't know how I know I am safe, but I do. When the beast moves closer, I stand my ground. When he bows his head, I respond in kind, touching my forehead to his. The sigh he looses comes from the very deep of his soul.

Driven by instinct, I lift my hand and stroke his thick neck. He is warm and soft and silky smooth. My heart weeps with love.

A cool, strong, feminine voice breaks the mood and has me jolting away from the horse. “I see you found Aethon.”

My eyes whip from the woman in black back to the horse. To Aethon.

The name is familiar, in the very deep, very back of my mind. But it's there. I wish I could remember who I was. I wish I had all the memories, and they were there for me, easily plucked from the library of a past life.

I wish I wasn't sorting through this forgotten mess, trying to place pieces of a puzzle that is mine, and yet not.

I look back to the woman, her black hair is always moving around her body, as though dancing in a breeze that does not blow. The others seem entirely unaffected by the oddities of her, but I am not yet so incensed.

I realize Thanatos is the God of Death, and essentially a Reaper, but Hecate is the one who makes me uneasy.

Hecate, with her pale skin, and shifting hair, and gauzy black gowns—well, she is the one who unnerves me most. Not to mention the fact that she moves as though she is hovering abovethe ground. It’s not normal the way her body does not jostle with her steps, but instead gives the appearance that she floats.

I'm pretty sure that would give anybody the freak.

“Did Hades send you?” I ask her.

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