Page 41 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Bound.
A cold tide surged inside her, rising fast and fierce. Shock, then disbelief. Denial.
It was not true. It couldn’t be. Her mother would have told her if something so profound had been spoken over her from her first breath.
But even as denial rushed in, memories rose in sharp, scattered fragments—Demeter refusing to live on Olympus. The vow of maidenhood. The cold anger in her mother’s eyes directed at Hades during the solstice.
She knew.
The realization struck, harsh and merciless. Too much. Too fast.
Kore shook her head, as if the motion might unmake the dawning truth. Hades watched her steadily, dark eyes fixed as she struggled beneath the weight of what he’d revealed.
“I—I do not believe you,” she finally choked, the words tremoring, uncertain. “You only say this so I will marry you.”
The air turned cold.
Not cool—but frigid. Sharp and sudden, like frost spreading along a blade’s edge.
Stillness radiated from Hades, thick and gathering, like the eye of astorm that had only just begun to turn. His eyes glittered, hard and unflinching.
Then, softly—dangerously: “You question my honor?”
Regret came instantly. Panic bloomed beneath her skin, swift and wild. It was a line crossed, one from which there was no retreat.
The tattered edges of her chiton whispered against her skin as Kore slowly rose, ignoring the pain still blooming in her feet. Unsteadily, she backed away a step.
“I didn’t mean—” Her voice caught, fragile as spun glass. “That’s not what I—”
The words died as Hades took a step toward her. Not fast but purposeful, a step to mirror her retreat. Then another.
“You accuse me of deceit?”
His voice was low and velvety. Controlled. But beneath that restraint, she could feel his anger thickening the air between them.
“That I would win you with lies?” He advanced another step. “You believe I would coax you into my bed with trickery, like some callow mortal?”
Kore’s face flushed, color rising hotly in her cheeks. Shame and fear knotted harshly in her chest, tight as a snare. She stepped back again.
Her spine touched cool marble.
Still, he came toward her.
His shadow fell over her as his steps devoured the distance between them. When he stopped, he stood so close that his chest brushed hers, the heat of him pressing through the fabric. Dark as ash, his eyes glared down at her.
Images rose behind her eyes. Torment, screaming darkness, the fiery lash of the Furies. He could not kill her. But he was a god, sovereign over this kingdom, and there were other ways to punish.
Kore bowed her head. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “Please… do not send me back there.”
His expression shifted, subtle yet unmistakable. A fracture beneath the stone.
“Where?” His voice cut sharp.
“The fields,” she choked out.
A breath of silence passed.
Then—
