Page 70 of Hades and Persephone: Crown of Souls

I don’t tell him that.

Hades pushes off the headboard to lower to me. With a hand dipping under the curtain of my hair, he palms my neck. His eyes peer into mine as though he’s hunting for a lie.

When I hold his eyes with my own, he looses a little huff. A reluctant grin tugs at his lips that I really want to kiss. That want only burns into need. His dark eyes shift to my mouth when I part my lips.

When the wick of that want ignites in flame deep in my core, I can’t miss the way his head shifts just slightly and his nostrils flare. He’s scenting me. Scenting my arousal.

“You’re insatiable.” Hades straightens to sit, and at the same time I push up from the mattress so that I am facing him.

“Only for you.”

The wounded flash in his eyes has been there so many times before. So many times, I’ve seen it and wondered, with no explanation, why it was there. Now, I know.

I’ve put together the final pieces of this missing puzzle, and I grieve for all that we lost in my past life, and even in this life, to the innocence of a girl who trusted a woman who never deserved her trust.

“I was manipulated, Hades.”

His eyes pin mine. “What?”

“What Uranus said—about Demeter and her lessons—I didn’t—” I can hardly look into his eyes through the shame that eats me. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you have known?”

I dip my chin, worrying my lip. “Are you upset with me?”

His finger slides under my chin to tip my eyes to his. “How could I be upset with you?”

A glassy sheen shines in my eyes. I feel it and I know he sees it.

I shrug, shaking my head. “I know you’re upset.”

“I am upset that I never put the pieces together. That I allowed?—”

“Why did you allow it, Hades? So many lovers. Even you took lovers?—”

“Only those you brought to our bed. Only for you.”

“I don’t understand why you would allow it—if it hurt your soul so much. I mean, clearly it hurt you. It destroyed me. I know it did. I know there was pain with every lover I took. A piece of my own soul splintering each time.”

“Persephone—”

“No.” I shift on my knees, agitated. “No, don’t do that.”

Darkness smothers the flames in his eyes. “I thought I made you that way.”

“How could you…” My words drift off. Horror is a lash that strikes my heart. I need to hear him say it, though. “How could you think you made me that way, Hades?”

“The way I took you, claimed you—the way I invaded you.” He shakes his head sadly. “It was dark and violent and such things can spark dark needs. I thought your need to claim lovers was part of that dark need. In my mind, I was to blame for your cravings, and they were my burden to bear. I could never—would never allow you to see the pain I carried—would never allow you to carry the weight of my pain. The guilt for my act.”

“Hades…”

“The penance for my barbaric actions was an eternity of sharing you. Of supporting you and loving you through the pain. Of keeping that pain concealed away from you so that it would never, never touch you. Never feast on you.”

“I thought you didn’t love me enough to claim me for yourself,” I whisper. “I thought if I made you jealous enough, pleased you enough—you would one day react. I don’t recall Demeter’s teachings with Zeus. With the lovers she took. But I do know that she gave me instruction on taking lovers. On playing the strings of your jealousy.” I look away from his dark eyes as I admit, “She was so disappointed with me that last day in the Garden of Silence that I had not yet brought you to your knees with jealousy.”

“She knew you never would. That I would suffer any pain for you.”

I nod, agreeing, “She knew. But I just don’t know how she knew.”

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