Page 40 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Without speaking, Hades gathered her into his arms. He carried her to the divan near the hearth and sank to one knee, lowering her with a gentleness that belied the iron tension in his shoulders.
But the moment his gaze fell to her arm, his expression hardened to stone.
Kore followed his gaze—and gasped.
Gold blood streaked her skin, shimmering in the firelight. It flowed from a ragged gash just below her shoulder, trailing in thick, gleaming lines down her arm.
Her eyes closed against the sight. “My arm,” she murmured listlessly.
A hand came to her shoulder, guiding her back against the cushions. “Be still.”
Then, cool metal touched her lips.
“Drink.”
The sharp taste of nectar flowed over her tongue. Its warmth spread through her, numbing the pain as the wound began to knit itself together.
The silence grew heavy.
A moment later, there was only a thin golden line etched into the smooth skin of her arm. Kore’s eyes traced the scar, then she looked up.
Hades stood near the hearth. His face was angled away from her, light dancing against his regal profile. “My realm is not Olympus,” he said quietly. “Do you know what could have happened to you?”
Dread pooled in her stomach, thick and cold.
He didn’t wait for her reply. “Furies guard the wicked of the Underworld,” he continued, his gaze still fixed on the fire. “Had I not appeared, you could have been dragged away, taken to Tartarus.”
Tartarus.
The warmth leached from her, leaving her breathless. “I did not know,” she managed to whisper. The words sounded pitifully feeble.
Finally, he turned to face her, and his expression was hard as iron. “Furies cannot punish gods,” he said, each word controlled, but only just. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself to her?”
“I did.” Kore straightened slightly, her voice stronger. “I told her—that creature—that I am Kore, daughter of Demeter.”
A long pause followed. His face remained impassive, except for the sharp tic of his jaw.
“Alecto did not recognize you because that isnotwho you are.” His voice was hard, cold as river stone. “Kore is not your regal name. It bears no title, no divine right. It is a name your mother gave you to keep you hidden. From me.”
The accusation was startling. Cutting. It struck a chord deep within herthat she didn’t fully understand. But anger surged regardless, hot and bright. She rose from her seat, a retort rising to her lips—
Pain lanced through her feet, sharp as a knife. With a gasp, she collapsed back onto the divan.
“Your feet are still healing,” he said coolly. Clearly unimpressed.
Humiliation dusted her face with heat, but she ignored it. “I have always been called Kore,” she bit out. “Whether your Furies acknowledge it or not. None other has ever taken such offense to my name.”
The scathing edge in her voice was unwise, but Hades didn’t flinch.
“You are Persephone.”
Her name rolled from his lips like something sacred, an ancient vow. For a moment, she faltered—stilled by the sound of it, by the way he said it.
“That title was bestowed upon you at birth.” He spoke slowly, as though addressing a petulant child. “I was there, young goddess, when the Fates wove your destiny through the stars over Olympus.” He held her gaze. “When they bound you to me.”
The words cracked through the chamber like lightning.
Kore’s eyes widened. Her chest hollowed, the air suddenly too tight to breathe.
