Page 121 of Where Darkness Bloomed
In the silence between them, where her gentleness met his strength, the unshakable truth emerged.
She was his.
And gods help him—
He was hers.
Chapter 45
In the pale light of dawn, Mycenae should have basked in golden warmth.
It was summer—high summer.
The fields should have been heavy with ripening grain, the cerulean sea glittering beneath a cloudless sky.
Instead, low clouds hung over the city, spitting sleet. An unnatural wind lashed the land, sharp and bitterly cold. It ruffled Hades’ hair, but he scarcely felt the cold over the anger rising in him as he stared across the frozen waste.
The jewel of the Aegean, Mycenae had once sparkled with life. Its harbors churned with merchant ships, the market overflowing with roasted olives, Eastern spices, rich-dyed wool, and the clamor of trade.
Now, hard frost blanketed the silent city.
Thick ice crusted the fields. Livestock huddled, lowing mournfully. The market was still, the empty streets hushed. But behind every shuttered window, desperate prayers slipped into the wind.
Pleas for warmth, for food, for mercy. For survival.
He could hear them lifting on the air like smoke.
Behind him, the air shifted, growing colder, sharper, laced with wrath. Hades felt her before she appeared, the atmosphere tensing as if the earth awaited another blow.
Demeter.
Her fury coiled at his back like a viper. His spine stiffened but Hades didn’t turn.
“Does this satisfy your anger?” His voice cut through the wind, his hand sweeping toward the frozen city. “Does their suffering bring you solace?”
Demeter stood a few paces behind him, earth-toned robes billowing asthe wind whirled around her. Snowflakes spiraled, clinging to her wind-tossed hair. But her glare was steady.
Her voice was brittle with rage, cold as the wind. “Nothing will appease me but the return of Kore.”
Hades’s gaze narrowed as he turned to face her. “I know no one by that name,” he replied, each word sharp and clear. “But I will not relinquish my wife to soothe your temper.”
Demeter’s face contorted. “Your wife,” she spat, her voice trembling. “By what right do you dare to call her that?”
“The only right.” His voice was hard, steady as the rock beneath them. “She chose me, swore a marriage oath on the Styx to me. She was crowned by me. She rules at my side.” His gaze locked with hers. “She is loved by me.”
Demeter’s lip curled into a sneer. “You speak of love, Lord of Darkness?” Her voice dripped scorn. “How could one of shadows like you love one such as her? A child of light and air.”
Wrath reared in him, raw and scorching. The cold air between them cracked, buckling under the force of it.
He lifted a hand, pointing toward the lifeless city below. “While the men perish at Troy, their wives and children starve and freeze—byyourhand.” A laugh left him, but it was bitter, hollow. “And you dare call me a creature of darkness?”
Demeter’s hands fisted at her sides. “I will do what I must to see my daughter returned,” she snapped. “She walked among them, loved them. She would never let them suffer.”
At her words, Hades turned sharply, his shoulders rigid. Shadows gathered at his feet, darkening the ground around him.
Then, Demeter laughed. It was a cruel sound, colder than frostbite.
“I see.” The words were low, taunting. “You haven’t told her.”
