Page 60 of The Queen & the King

The events of the night start to hit me as I limp up the hill to my mother’s house, and I feel the burden of them sitting heavy on my shoulders. The sight of the house is anything but welcoming, but it has my bed and my doorway to Hades, making it good enough for now. I open the door, not even glancing to check if my mother is in the living room. I make a beeline for the stairs, but my limp slows me down.

“Sweetling?” my mother chirps, and my whole body tenses.

I just want to go cry alone in my bed and then see Hades. I want her to leave me alone. My body and my mind are in a conflict. My body just wants to cocoon itself and take stock, but my mind wants to scream at my mother, raining down on her all the anger from the past two hundred years.

I turn on my heel and walk back to the living room. What a sight I must be, covered in ichor, dress ripped, and bruised face.

My mother gasps the second she lays her eyes on me, feigning concern. “What happened?”

I feel a tear roll uselessly down my cheek. While I know this is not real, even fake concern has me finally sinking into the reality of my evening. How much worse would it have been if not for my inner badass I didn’t know existed?

“You know exactly what happened, Mother.” My voice is low and even.

“Sweetling,” I feel my mother’s gaze slide over me, “you know better than to fight these things.”

I look at her, dumbfounded, another tear tracking down my cheek. I clench my fists, feeling those spines sharpen beneath my skin. “You told him he couldsampleme by any means necessary,” I snarl. “And now you stand there, blaming me?”

“These are things we must endure as women, Persephone.” She lifts her hand to cup my cheek, but I slap it away.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You are no mother,” I hiss, turning from her and leaving the room.

The tears begin a steady trickle as I walk from her view and continue well after I’ve closed my bedroom door. I press my back against it and close my eyes, finally allowing myself to whimper.

“Persephone?”

My eyes snap open at the sound of Hades’ voice, and I look around the room.

“Hades?” I whisper, moving to the balcony and peering over it, but there’s no one there. Did I imagine his voice?

“Are you alright?”

My head snaps up, trying to find him.

“I’m in your mind, my spring,”he replies, and I can hear the tension in his voice.

I frown, considering if I can send a message back.

“You can. Our mental link is—”He stops himself.“Are you alright?”he repeats.

I walk to the bedroom door and use my vines to make as strong a lock as possible. “I’m fine.”It might be a lie, but I’m safe now, and I’m talking to Hades, so I’m as fine as I can be under the circumstances.

“Nemesis wasn’t too late?”Hades asks, and my heart aches with the choked fear in his voice.

“No.”I walk into the bathroom and lock that door as well. I am about to wash my face when I catch sight of my reflection and completely break down. The sight of my injuries is the final straw. My lip is swollen, and my face is covered in cuts and bruises. Scratches and Adonis’s fingerprints mar the creamy skin of my arms.

I hear Hades inhale sharply in my mind, and I can tell he’s pacing, probably wearing a trail into my perfect black rug with an accent of silver around the border. My brows furrow at the memory, but this time, it doesn’t leave immediately. Anothertear runs down my cheek, and then the memory is gone, and I’m left only with the repercussions of the night.

“Persephone, say you want to go on a date with me right now,”Hades demands.

I sob softly. “I can’t. I look awful.”

Hades growls, “Persephone. Say yes. I can’t come to you otherwise.”

“Yes.”I sob again, closing my eyes.

Less than a moment later, I feel the energy shift, and I’m wrapped in powerful arms. Long, strong fingers plunge into my hair and pull my face against a large, comforting chest. The scent of citrus and sandalwood surrounds me, making my heart skip a beat.

I thought I was crying before, but when Hades pulls me into his arms, and I feel the safety of him surround me, that’s when the true tears begin. As I sob, it occurs to me I’ve never had this before. I’ve never had someone who I could cry to, who I was confident would comfort me. Oh, to be loved by someone… no, to be loved byhim.

---