To make matters worse, he didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, either, and we both fumbled through it. It might’ve been intimate, but it wasn’t sexy or loving. It was all physical, nothing emotional, and by the time it was over, I was struggling to hold back tears.
Hades rolled off me, his chest heaving. As his eyes searched mine, his brow furrowed, and he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, too close to breaking down to speak. It wasn’t his fault. I’d been the one to pressure him into this, to force us both before we were ready. But the part of me drowning in anger and disappointment blamed him. He could’ve done what I hadn’t had the courage to do and walked away. He could’ve said no to my father when he’d suggested this marriage to begin with.
“It will get better,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Silence surrounded us, and I knew without asking that he was waiting for me to say it back. To offer him one small affirmation that this wasn’t a complete disaster. But it was, and a tear slid down my face, too fast for me to catch it.
In the glow of the candlelight, Hades’s expression crumbled. He knew what my silence meant, and for a moment, he seemed to fold into himself. His shoulders hunched and his head bowed, and his fingers dug into the sheets. I didn’t offer him any comfort. I couldn’t. I’d only be lying to us both.
At last Hades came to life and pulled a silk blanket up to cover me. He didn’t try to touch me, though he did watch me for a long moment. I turned away. I didn’t want his guilt as well as mine.
Eventually the candles burned out, or maybe Hades extinguished them. Either way, in the darkness, the rock weighed down even heavier around me, and I could barely breathe.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be here with a man I didn’t love. Married or not, his queen or not, I was a person, not an object, and my parents had had no right to do this to me in the first place. But here we were, both of us victims, both of us painfully aware of the wall between us now. It hadn’t been there before the wedding, but now, because of me, because of my parents…
I didn’t sleep, and judging from Hades’s breathing, neither did he. At last, when it was time to get up—how Hades could tell without the sun, I had no idea—I waited until he dressed and disappeared before I got out of bed and bathed. I had two options: I could stick around and accept my fate, or I could fight for my freedom.
No contest.
As soon as I finished washing off any last trace of the night before, I hurried out of the bedroom, nearly crashing headfirst into Hades in the hall. Though he carried a tray, he managed to sidestep me without dropping anything. For a long moment, we stared at each other.
“Where…” He paused and clutched the tray, loaded with my favorite fruits, breads and cheeses. He was bringing me breakfast in bed. “Where are you going?”
Another wave of guilt washed over me. Even after last night, he was still trying to make me happy. “I—I need to see Mother,” I said, my voice hitching. “Can I…?”
“Of course.” He set the tray down on an end table and reached for me, though he pulled away at the last second. “I’ll take you up to Olympus.”
I followed him through the hallway to the private entrance, and together we walked down the cavern path that led to the portal between realms. Seeing the rock around me only made the weight on my chest worse, and by the time we reached the crystal circle in the ground, I could barely see straight.
“Are you all right?” said Hades, touching my elbow. Though it wasn’t much, it was enough to remind me of the night before, and I shuddered. He immediately dropped his hand.
“I’m sorry, I just—I need to—I need to go to Olympus. Can you show me how?” Technically, before my wedding and coronation, I’d been unable to, but now, as Queen of the Underworld, I had that power.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Of course. I have to touch you to get you there. Is that all right?”
I nodded, and he set his hand on my back. It was a familiar touch, the kind only two people who knew each other well could share, and his skin burned against mine.
Why was it this bad? Sure, the night before hadn’t been at all what I’d been raised to expect from watching Aphrodite and her lovers, but plenty of people had gone through worse. So why did the very thought of him make me sick to my stomach?
“Like this,” he said quietly, and I felt a rush of power emanate from him, dark and rich and completely repugnant. But there was no escaping him as we raced upward through the rock, and by the time we burst into the open sky, I was nauseous. From the journey, from the Underworld, from Hades’s touch or ancient power, I didn’t know, but all I wanted was to go home.
At last we landed in the middle of Olympus, and I broke away from him and ran as fast as I could. Through the throne room, into the hallway, toward Mother’s room, everything around me a blur. The golden sunshine that reflected off every inch of Olympus seemed to fill me from the inside out, and by the time I burst into her chambers, I was glowing. “Mother!”
“Persephone?” She stood and opened her arms, and I melted into them. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Is Hades with you?”
I nodded, and something about hearing her voice and feeling her familiar presence made that dam inside me snap. I broke into rough sobs, clutching her as hard as I could. I wouldn’t let her go again, not for anything.
Somehow Mother managed to guide me to her bed, and together we sank down. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She tried to pull away, but I held on. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”
But it was. I couldn’t explain it to her—I couldn’t even explain it to myself—but in that moment, I would’ve rather faded for eternity than go back to the Underworld with Hades. I didn’t belong there. We didn’t belong together, and it was all a mistake—a stupid mistake that Mother could fix.
“Please,” I gasped between sobs. “Don’t make me go back there.”
Her arms tightened around me. “What happened? Darling, if you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.”
I opened my mouth to try to find the words, but before I could say a single one—
“Persephone?”
I looked up, my lower lip trembling. “Father?”
Zeus stepped into the room, his brow knit and mouth turned downward. Father or not, I’d never spent much time with him beyond what little bonding assuaged his guilt. But I would’ve taken his awkward hugs and nasty temper a thousand times over before I went back to Hades.
“Persephone, your husband is waiting for you in the throne room,” he admonished. “He’s quite worried.”
I sniffed, refusing to lessen my grip on Mother. “I can’t go back there. I can’t breathe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a goddess. You don’t need to breathe,” said Zeus. “Now, explain to me what this tantrum of yours is all about.”
“Zeus,” said Mother in a warning tone, but he didn’t budge. He stared at me, his blue eyes stormy and his arms crossed over his broad chest. I’d never been afraid of him before, but tension crackled in the air sure as lightning. One wrong word, and daughter or not, he’d treat me like a traitor.
“I can’t—” I hiccupped. “The rock’s too heavy, and—Hades, we—” My face grew hot. “Please don’t make me go back.”
“You have no choice in the matter,” said Zeus. “You are Queen of the Underworld now, and that is not a crown you can give up.”
“I don’t care,
just—please. I’ll do anything,” I begged. “I can’t go back.”
Mother sighed. “You’ve been there all of one night. Things will get easier. I know it’s a change from Olympus—”
“Have you ever spent the night down there?” I said, and she hesitated.
“No, but—”
“I can’t, Mother. Please.”
She frowned and shared a look with Zeus. “Your father’s right. You’re Queen, and like it or not, that is not a role you can relinquish. Regardless of your marriage, Hades needs your help ruling, and you’ve already made a commitment. You cannot back out of it no matter how different it is from your expectations.”
My entire body felt as if it had turned to stone. I’d expected opposition from Zeus, of course. He was never agreeable about anything. But my own mother…
“You don’t understand.” I pulled away and stood on trembling legs. “It’s not natural down there. It’s—cold and dark and twisted, and I can’t breathe—”
“Again with the breathing,” said Zeus, and Mother shushed him.
“—and I don’t love him, Mother. I can’t spend my life down there.”
“Love?” Her confused expression morphed into a sympathetic one, and humiliation coursed through me. I didn’t want her pity. I wanted her understanding. “Persephone, love has very little to do with it. Hades loves you, of course, but your love for him won’t come immediately. You must give it time.”
“But how can I love something completely unlovable?” My voice broke, and I wiped my cheeks angrily.
“You can, and eventually you will. In many ways, Hades is the most loving of us all,” said Mother. “Do not be fooled by his dark kingdom. There is beauty in it, and despite a difficult night, things will get easier. Happiness is a choice—”
“And I choose not to be.” The words came out as a broken sob. “You’re going to do this to me? You’re going to damn your only daughter to a life down there with him?”
Mother faltered. “Sweetheart, please. Tell me what brought this on.”
But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what specific thing was behind the wall of hatred and anger inside me. I didn’t know what made me want to run, but that didn’t make it any less real. “He just—” I shook my head. “It isn’t right.”
“Take it one step at a time,” said Mother in what she must’ve meant to be a soothing voice, but it made me shudder. “If you didn’t enjoy consummating your marriage, that’s natural. The first time is almost never—”
“It isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?” She reached for me, but I stepped back. My entire body trembled so badly that I had to struggle to stay upright. It was as if I was fighting an invisible force just by being in the room, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
“I just—I don’t belong there. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Mother and Zeus exchanged another look, and Zeus cleared his throat. “You will return to the Underworld with Hades, and you will obey him as you would obey me. He is your husband now, and you will not dishonor me by evading your duties. Do you understand?”
My eyes watered until I couldn’t make out his features. But I knew that voice—it was the voice of a king, the one he used when we had absolutely no choice. The voice he’d used to tell me I’d be marrying Hades on my sixteenth birthday no matter how I felt about it.
I couldn’t respond. Every time I opened my mouth, that wall of hatred and resentment was there, and finally I dashed past him and fled the room. I couldn’t do this no matter how often he threatened me, and the fact that he and Mother refused to so much as consider my feelings—it wasn’t fair. I needed to get away from that unyielding revulsion. I needed to get away from my life.
As I ran down the hallway, I nearly barreled headfirst into Hera. Had she been there the entire time? Our eyes locked, and she opened her mouth to say something, but I regained my footing and rushed past her. I didn’t care if she’d overheard. I didn’t care if she empathized with being trapped in a loveless marriage. There was nothing she could possibly say or do to change my parents’ minds, and I didn’t need pity. I needed an escape.
At last I made it to the throne room. A few feet from the portal, Hades waited with Hermes, who wore a bewildered expression. As I stumbled onto the crystal circle, Hades moved to join me, but Hermes darted in front of him, blocking his way. Whatever his reason was, I didn’t have time to find out. I dropped from Olympus, the wind rushing through my hair and whipping it across my face.
Freedom. And free-falling, apparently. I’d never used a portal by myself, and I opened my mouth in a silent scream. So maybe not waiting for Hades hadn’t been the best idea, but I would’ve rather plummeted to earth than let him join me.
I expected a crash landing, the sort that would leave an indentation in the ground for curious mortals to ponder, but as my feet touched the earth, I stopped. No hard landing. No real impact. I didn’t even leave footprints on the grass.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and looked around. I stood in a meadow full of purple flowers that danced in the breeze, and it was warm despite the late hour of wherever it was I’d landed. A beautiful summer evening.
Why couldn’t Hades live on the surface? Why did he have to be near his subjects at all times? Zeus certainly wasn’t. I sat down heavily in the middle of the field, passing my hand through the tall grass. This was my home, surrounded by warmth and nature and life. Not encased in stone.
The wind picked up for a moment, and something rustled behind me. Hades, no doubt, coming to reclaim me and drag me back to that dark place. I refused to turn around. He couldn’t have me, not anymore.
“Persephone?”
I exhaled. Not Hades. “Hermes? What are you doing here?”
“You’re upset,” he said as he moved to sit in front of me. We’d grown up together, babies compared to the rest of the council, and seeing him now made me more homesick than ever. “Did Hades hurt you?”
He was the first person to acknowledge that maybe this wasn’t my fault, and my heart swelled in gratitude. “N-no.” I hiccupped. “I just—I can’t go back.”
He took my hands, his fingers smooth and cool. That small gesture of affection was enough to make me break down all over again, and I rested my head on his shoulder as I cried. I hated feeling like this—I hated not having the courage to give Hades a chance. But it wasn’t him. It was the feeling of being suffocated, smothered, burned out before I’d had the chance to live. Why hadn’t I questioned my parents earlier? Why hadn’t I demanded a chance to get to know Hades and the Underworld better? Why hadn’t they given me a choice?
Because they’d known what I would say if they had. They must have. Mother knew me better than I knew myself, and my trust in her—the same trust that had made me take the plunge into this marriage—was too absolute for me to question it before. Even now I second-guessed myself. Was I being hasty? Should I give Hades a chance? Did I even have a choice?
No, and that only made me cry harder. I didn’t have a choice. Whether I liked it or not, I would have to return to the Underworld. Unless—
My eyes flew open, and I sat up. Hermes straightened as well, but I spoke before he could utter a word. “Run away with me.”
His lips formed a perfect circle. “What?”
“You heard me. Run away with me. We can go someplace they’ll never find us, like Aphrodite and Ares did, and—and we can be ha
ppy.”
“Wait.” He pulled away from me. “You mean you want—you and me—”
I shivered. After last night, I never wanted to have that sort of relationship with anyone ever again. “No, I mean—as friends. Brother and sister, whatever we are.” We weren’t, technically, since Zeus had taken different forms to father us and we had different mothers. But I needed someone else to love me. I didn’t care what kind of love it was, as long as it meant I could get away from Hades. “Please.”
Hermes hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Hope blossomed inside my chest, pushing aside the coldness and despair. He was considering it. He was really considering it.
“Persephone…” He took my hands in his again. “You know I want nothing more than to see you happy, but Zeus already forbade anyone from interfering with your marriage. If we left, Zeus and Hades would both hunt us down, and I’d get a lightning bolt to the skull for sure.”
My heart sank, and that delicate bubble of hope deflated. “He really ordered everyone not to help me?”
Hermes nodded. “I’m sorry. But maybe you and Hades could talk it out. You could just be his queen and not his wife, right? He needs you to help him rule, not warm his bed.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting another wave of tears. I was never getting out of this. Not now, not in a thousand years, not ever. Not as long as Zeus treated me like property and Hades went along with him. “He would never agree,” I whispered.
“So don’t give him a choice.” Hermes tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle that I shifted closer. “Just tell him. You’re stronger than you think you are, Persephone. Never question that. You can do whatever you set your mind to, circumstances be damned.”
“I wish—” My voice broke, and I swallowed thickly. “I wish I were like Aphrodite. I wish I had the strength to do what she did.”