Page 39 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Kore lay flat against the grass, willing herself to vanish as the wingbeats grew louder. But a crackling laugh came from above.
“Thinking to hide from my wrath?” The winged hag sneered at her from the air, baring jagged teeth. “We Furies cannot be escaped, foolish girl. My sisters and I will hunt you through the Fields of Punishment for all eternity.”
Kore’s legs trembled, but she rose and met the creature’s eyes. “I’ve come from the temple. I do not belong here—”
The Fury’s laugh was a shriek that could have curdled the air. “My master’s temple?” she taunted. “If that were true, you would never be permitted here.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. “I speak the truth!”
“Abandon hope, mortal.” The Fury’s lip curled, the fiery whip rising in its clawed grip. “I am Alecto, chief among Lord Hades’s punishers. And my wrath is eternal.”
Terror wrapped cold fingers around Kore’s throat. “I am not mortal!” she shouted, the words raw, desperate to her ears. “I am Kore, daughter of Demeter—”
Fire streaked the air, the lash hissing. Blazing agony slashed across her arm.
A scream wrenched from her throat as she crumpled, the world tilting violently. Her body curled inward against the pain, golden ichor seeping through her fingers like sticky, molten sunlight. Panting, vision blurred, she barely noticed the Fury above her, whip coiling to strike again.
Alecto snarled, the lash slicing downward—but the shadows moved first.
They stole silently across the ground like spilled ink, swallowing the light. Darkness wrapped Kore in its arms, a cocoon of living night rising around her.
The whip struck the shadows with a deafeningcrack—and rebounded, shattering into gold-bright sparks.
“Alecto.”
Just one word, but it split the silence like thunder. The air became stone-still.
Instantly, the Fury dropped to the ground, leathery wings unfurling in a reverent bow. “My lord,” she hissed.
The shadows unspooled, slipping away. Strong hands caught Kore, drawing her from the ground with care. Through the haze of pain, she looked up.
Dark eyes met hers—cold now, hard as obsidian. But familiar.
Him.
He had come.
Without a word, he drew her against him. His body was solid and warm, a shield between her and the Fury’s wrath. For a moment, she could feel only fierce, disorienting relief.
“Alecto,” Hades said again, his voice ringing with iron. “Begone.”
The Fury’s wings twitched. “My lord, she enters the Fields of Punishment—”
Hades’s gaze shifted to the creature, and the air thinned around them. “A mistake.” Each syllable fell sharp as a blade. “One that will not be repeated.”
The fury in him was not flame, but ice. It radiated out, heavy as stone, cracking the air with its weight. Even the earth seemed to recoil.
“Go,” he commanded.
Alecto’s wings snapped wide. A rush of darkness, and she was gone.
Relief surged through Kore like a first breath after drowning. Drained of strength, her legs buckled, a shuddering exhale leaving her. She moved without thought, pressed her face into his chest, fingers fisting in the folds of his himation until they were bloodless. A sob tore loose, soft and wordless, muffled by the fabric even as it shook her shoulders.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Not at all. Long enough for her to feel a sharp bloom of horror at her own boldness. Then, slowly, his arms came around her. No words. Just the solid strength of him sheltering her in silence. Shadows stirred once more, curling in around them like living silk.
The world shifted. A rush of air. A whispered chill. Then—heat, the glow of firelight.
They stood in her bedchamber.
