Page 23 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Kore did not follow.
She stood alone beneath the moon, rooted in place as a cold weight settled in her stomach. Silently, she watched her mother slip further away, a shadowy chasm opening between them.
Chapter 11
Sleep eluded Hades.
Weeks had passed since the summer solstice. Night after night, it slipped from his grasp, leaving his nights restless and hollow.
With a sharp exhale, he rose from his bed, tying a garment around his naked waist. His footsteps whispered against the dark marble as he crossed the long stretch of his bedchamber.
At the far end, a low pool sat still and calm, like a mirror carved into the dark marble. Awaiting his will.
Demeter’s daughter.
The water trembled immediately. Ripples spread outward as the image formed.
And there she was. Nestled in sun-warmed grass. Dark hair fanned out like a shadow around her. Sunlight pooled over her skin, emblazoning her in gold. Her fingers skimmed through green blades, threading gently.
“Grow.”
The whisper left her lips. And the earth obeyed.
New shoots curled up at her fingertips, unfurling into delicate cobalt blossoms that he recognized.
He watched her eyes fall closed, lashes dark against her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with the slow rhythm of summer air, as though the earth breathed with her. His gaze traced her—the lines of her form, the slope of her waist, the lazy stretch of her hand.
Then he noticed it.
The trees that surrounded her were tall, ancient. A thick forest of cypress.
His grove. She lay inhisgrove.
The warmth lingering in his chest turned molten, a slow surge rising deep from the most ancient part of him.
She had come willingly. Had crossed into his sanctuary not by accident,but with purpose. Had chosen to lie here, in the place consecrated to him. A place where none other wandered.
Hades turned from the pool, the image dissolving in ripples behind him. He strode from the chamber, garments forming around him as he moved with long, purposeful strides.
The time for watching had passed.
***
His chariot tore through a jagged chasm at the heart of Olympus, the earth sealing shut behind him.
Columns of white marble rose against green slopes, gleaming brightly before dissolving into the heavens. Shrines and temples crowned the mountaintop, grand and imperious, golden braziers flaring to life as twilight deepened.
In the sky, Apollo’s chariot descended, a final crack of his whip driving the fiery chariot over the horizon. The last streaks of crimson sunlight faded, ebbing into indigo.
At the summit, the great temple awaited. Hades strode through its entrance, his footsteps echoing in the atrium.
The throne hall was empty. Except for Zeus. He stood before the dais, his gaze resting on the circle of thrones. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he turned.
Hades nodded his greeting. “Brother.”
Zeus clasped a firm hand to his shoulder, a flicker of curiosity sharpening his eyes. “What stirs the Underworld that its lord returns to Olympus again so soon?”
Hades did not answer immediately. Instead, he moved past Zeus, stepping onto the broad terrace beyond. The sea stretched endlessly beneath them, glinting silver as moonlight danced on its restless waves.
