Page 53 of Where Darkness Bloomed
The sky changed, deepening until it glittered not with sunlight but with jeweled stars, the unmistakable firmament of the Underworld. Her appearance shifted as well. The white chiton turned dark and fine, richly embroidered with silver threads. A laurel wreath of sparkling silver crowned her brow. The flowers in her arms became a spray of cypress branches. In one palm, a pomegranate rested.
Kore’s gaze searched the crowd until she found him—Hades, standing still amid the gathered gods, his expression unreadable. His narrowed eyes were fixed on the vision.
Then, the mist dissolved, fading as swiftly as it had gathered.
None spoke or even moved.
Demeter still stared at the sky, stricken. Then her expression darkened, and she clutched the infant closer. “What gift is this?” she hissed at the Fates.
Atropos was unmoved, her gaze impassive. “Not a gift,” she clarified. “An offering.”
Before another word could be spoken, the vision shattered. The temple cracked, the marble crumbling into silver air—
And Kore was falling.
A rush of light and water tore around her. Her feet found stone, and she broke the surface of the Pool of Mnemosyne. Silver water arced as she flung her soaked hair back, gasping for breath, heart racing.
“As you can imagine,” came his voice, low and wry, “that foretelling caused quite a stir.”
Her eyes flew open.
Hades stood by the waterfall, water slicking his chest, dripping from his dark hair down the muscled lines of his body before vanishing into the pool at his hips.
The memory—the revelation—burned through her like a streak of sunfire.
“Why did no one ever speak of this?” she asked, hardly more than a whisper.
“Your foretelling was both clear and obscure.” His voice was unshakably calm, though his eyes grew shadowed with memory.“It showed you in the Underworld, wearing my heraldry. But then, I was warrior—not yet a ruler.”
He paused, something heavier settling behind his gaze.
“I was named ruler to the Underworld a fortnight later. And your mother left Olympus the next day, taking you. Raising you away from the pantheon. Away from me.”
Her throat grew tight, and her voice was small. “As Kore.”
“As Kore,” he confirmed, meeting her eyes.
The name—her name—hung in the air. A lie. A name that meant... nothing.
“She never spoke of you,” Kore whispered truthfully, the words trembling. “Never.”
He shook his head regretfully. “When I took my throne, much became clear. Demeter wouldn’t share my presence after that. Except at the council.”
She stared at him, comprehension slowly dawning. “That is why you came for me.”
“Yes.”
Water lapped softly as he approached her with slow steps. Once he stood before her, he reached out, and his thumb swept her cheek, smoothing away a droplet. It was a small touch, but it rippled through her, quiet and undeniable.
He followed the shiver with dark, warm eyes. “You are chilled.”
He stepped closer, his hands resting lightly at her waist. Shadows stirred and curled inward, drawn to him. The world melted away in a hush of black silk, only to right itself an instant later.
Firelight spilled over her skin, the brazier bathing the bedchamber in a golden glow. The warmth reached her limbs, but she hardly felt it. Not overthe awareness of his hands, still resting at her waist. Not over the breath caught between them.
He didn’t move. Neither did she.
When he spoke again, the warmth of his voice seemed to sink into her bones. “I have waited for you for thousands of years.”
