Page 115 of The Queen & the King

Hisurethra?

“No, I didn’t,” I answer because who would say such a thing to another person?

Melinoë recoils, her eyes turning feral. “You traitorous mother fucker. Just because you and Persephone are all gross and in love and need to basically conjoin yourselves, doesn’t mean we all are!”

“You love him,” I state plainly, watching her.

“You take that back, you demonic dickhead,” she hisses.

My lips twitch. She is in such denial. Is this what I looked like when I once thought to resist the pull I felt toward Persephone? “He showed me a video of you saying it to him. How touchingly sweet you can be, Melinoë.”

Her jaw clicks audibly. “Oh, that UV fucker is about to get disemboweled.” She whirls on her heel and storms out of the room, no doubt to make good on her threat against the Titan of the Sun.

Without her standing guard, I stride toward the throne room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Persephone. I mask my disappointment at only seeing Hera standing at the dais. She is clad in a stark ivory sheath, and her blonde hair is pulled into a neat chignon. Her nails are painted the same red as her lips.

I step onto the dais, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Look how eager you are.” Hera smirks.

I shoot her a droll look. “It must be odd for you to see a husband excited to see his wife.”

Her eyes flash with anger. “It won’t last.”

Hera can try all she likes, but unlike her husband, she’ll never get under my skin. I swear Zeus only has to breathe to do so. It is his special talent.

“I said the same thing about you and Z,” I volley back at her. She bristles, and I know how much she hated Zeus’s infidelity, but it was not jealousy, or at least not completely. Hera found his affairs and bastard children to beunbecoming.She despised that he failed to take his reputation and image seriously. He is the King of Gods and refuses to act as such.

I look away as Helios approaches and makes his way up the dais to stand at my side. He is sporting a new black eye, but his skin is still glowing. The black eye doesn’t do anything to diminish the happy smirk on his face. I suppose I should have asked Poseidon or Zeus to stand at my side for the ceremony, but there is something about Helios being there that simply makes sense. I can depend on his reactions. He wouldn’t dare to upset Persephone and, by extension, Melinoë. I couldn’t say the same with any certainty when it comes to my brothers.

Music swells, a haunting, beautiful melody in the throne room, and I straighten more, clasping my hands in front of me. It felt odd to have them just sitting at my side while I waited for Persephone.

The doors open, revealing Cerberus, adorned in black bow ties on each of his necks. He trots happily down the aisle, his injury already healed from the skirmish with my father. His middle head holds a black velvet pillow with two onyx rings tied to it.

“Good boy,” I praise, as I take the rings from him and hand them to Helios to hold.

Melinoë comes next, wearing a deep purple dress with a slit to her thigh, her heavy black boots peeking from beneath the hem as she walks. Her scars are pale, yet she wears them confidently and without hesitation, comfortable in her own skin.

Helios whistles at Melinoë. She meets his eyes, fire sparking in the mismatched depths of hers. She keeps up the glare until she steps up to the other side of the dais and looks back down the aisle, waiting for the doors to open.

There’s a long moment as I wait for Persephone. Where is she? She didn’t change her mind, did she?

Her scent hits me first. That perfect rose within a dense fog. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.

My queen.

My spring.

My home.

Sixty-Nine

Persephone

APHRODITE COMPLETELY KILLED IT WITH MY DRESS. I had asked for something non-traditional, not wanting to be married in virginal white.

Nothing about Hades and I has been traditional, and it didn’t seem right to be walking down the black marble aisle in a poofy cream wedding dress. Besides, being the Goddess of Spring, everyone would expect me to wear a pretty floral wedding dress, but I am not simply the Goddess of Spring. I am the Goddess of Dark Spring, and I am Queen of the Underworld. There is as much darkness in me as there is light. I’ve spent most of my life catering to one. It is time to embrace the other.

Aphrodite got back to me less than twenty-four hours later with a single design, and she had knocked it right out of the park.

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