by Kitty Thomas
Persephone moved to the center of the cage, shivering from cold and fear. She was too afraid to call for him again.
Chapter Two
Hades paced on the upper level. He hadn’t made it beyond the entry hall before he’d started. He could hear her crying all the way up here. Damn her tears. He’d had every intention of sending Zeus a finger all wrapped up in a black box with a silver satin bow. Maybe he’d send more than one. Maybe he’d send the same one every day for a year.
It would grow back after all. It truly was no big deal. But it would drive that control freak father of hers insane. That was the important part. And it would hurt. Zeus had kept her protected and bubble wrapped, shielded from her fate. She probably hadn’t suffered a day in her long life. That was about to change. And she had her father to thank for it.
“Umm, My Lord?” One of the guards had left his post.
Hades rounded on him and snarled. “What?”
“M-my Lord do you think it wise to keep her down there like that?”
“She won’t die.”
“No, but… remember what the seer said.”
Hades went back to pacing. He was going to wear a hole in the glowing silver rug at this rate. When he’d discovered Zeus’s duplicity, he’d gone to his own seer to confirm the story. She’d said Persephone was meant to be his queen.
And here he was treating her like his prisoner. But could she not be both? While he had felt the slightest twinge of something that had stopped him from cutting her finger off, her tears and begging wouldn’t stop all his plans.
Just being near her, he wanted to dominate her. He wanted to own her. He wanted her to fear him just a little. Or maybe a lot. He wasn’t sure how much of this was anger at her father and how much of it was what she did to him of her own accord… that sweet, bright, white innocence that clung to her, the scent of purity that wafted through the air like a meadow of lavender.
And he didn’t care. She wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t have to be soft with her. She had to adapt to him, not the other way around. Perhaps things could have been different if she hadn’t been withheld and hidden from him for so long.
For thousands of years, he’d been bitter that Zeus and Poseidon got all the good stuff, and he’d drawn the short straw for the underworld. If he couldn’t have the sky and the sea, he would have Persephone. And he had every intention of tormenting Zeus over it. He would drive her father mad if it was the last thing he did.
Even if he didn’t send dear old daddy a package, Zeus would know plenty. It was the blessing and curse of being a god.
“My Lord?”
Hades felt the glow coming to his eyes. The guard was still standing there? “What?”
“Would it hurt you to show her a little mercy?”
Maybe. He didn’t know if he wanted her to hate and fear him or if he wanted her to love him so he could rip the rug out from under her and watch as that love turned to shock and betrayal, then hatred and fear. The more he hurt her, the more it would destroy Zeus. And he liked that plan quite a lot.
“My Lord? This isn’t her fault.”
“Go back to your post.”
The guard went back to his post along the long hall.
Of course it wasn’t her fault. She was just a pawn in all this, but it was Zeus who had made the first move, and it was Hades who was going to finish it.
But the guard was right about one thing. Why should he keep her down in the dank dungeon by herself? He wanted to play with her, and his room was so much more comfortable. He could strike as much terror on the third floor as he could in the dungeon.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Persephone sat up and scooted to one corner of her cage. He was going to lock a collar around that tiny throat. And very soon.
She shivered as he approached, her clothes still wet from her earlier spill into the black sea. He unlocked the cage and opened the door. “Come with me.”
She struggled to her feet and used the bars of the cage to steady herself as she made her way to him. When she’d stepped outside the cage, he was about to turn to go up the stairs, knowing she would follow, but before he could do that, she swayed on her feet.
Hades caught her just as she fainted. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold, fear, or general exhaustion. Perhaps hunger. It wasn’t as though a few pomegranate seeds would sustain her.
He carried her up the stairs to the main level, then up a grand staircase she no doubt would have been impressed by had she been conscious to see it, then up another level to his private floor.
Once in his room, he laid her down on the bed a bit more gently than he’d intended. He needed to get her out of these wet clothes. Hades absently waved a hand in the direction of a large fireplace near the bed. It immediately came to life with flames.
She flopped around like a rag doll while he removed her wet clothes. The T-shirt clung to her and peeled off as if she’d been shrink-wrapped in it. Next, he took her shoes—some ridiculous pair of aquamarine colored wedge sandals. Then the jeans. Panties. Bra.
He tossed the clothes in the fire then he stood over the bed and just looked at her. So perfect and fair and sweet. Did he really want to mar that perfect pale skin? Yes. He did. Anything he did to her would heal. Well, anything physical. She might not recover from the emotional scars.
Hades sat next to her on the bed. He leaned closer, his nose pressed against the side of her throat, breathing in that clean scent. He pulled back suddenly and just stared.
No. It wasn’t possible. Was it? But how?
Hades held his hands a few inches above her and moved along the length of her body. He could sense and feel the nuances of her energy this way. When he was certain, he pulled away.
However improbable, Zeus had kept her sheltered in more than one way. Hades was absolutely sure. Persephone was a virgin. A sweet, innocent virgin, trapped in his underworld lair.
Instead of sending Zeus a finger, Hades thought maybe he should send a nice thank you card.
***
The sounds of the fire crackling and spitting in the grate woke Persephone. She felt weak and tired from hunger and fear. She hadn’t even been blessed with a moment of the comfort of not remembering where she was. She wasn’t in the cage at least.
No, instead, she was in a large comfortable bed, covered by a heavy black blanket, her head cushioned by three soft pillows. On one side of her was the fireplace and on the other was a large, open arched doorway covered only by wisps of sheer, black fabric. The fabric whispered whenever a soft breeze blew by.
Through the sheer material, Persephone could see a large stone balcony with some furniture as well as the sky and the bright full moon and stars. She was about to get up and go explore the balcony when she realized she was naked, and there was no clothing anywhere within her line of sight.
The door on the other end of the room opened, and Hades stepped in. She could smell the delicious aroma of food coming off the silver tray. He placed the tray next to her on the bed and sat on the edge beside her.
“Eat,” he said. This time he sounded less crazy when he said that word.
She hesitated. She was so hungry, but then she remembered the pomegranate.
“You can only be tied eternally to me once. So you may as well eat something,” he said, guessing correctly the cause of her hesitation.
The food on the tray was far more tempting than the fruit had been down in the dungeon: a small roasted chicken with herb and garlic mashed potatoes covered in butter and green beans that looked like they’d come straight from a garden to her plate without canning or freezing in between. A crystal goblet of water sat next to the plate.
“Where did it all come from?”
“Where does anything here come from? It’s magic. But the food is real enough, and it will sustain you. Without your powers, you’ll need to eat more frequently.”
He was still on this goddess delusion.
“I’m twenty-five,” she said. Not immortal. Not thou
sands of years old. Not whatever he thought she was.
“No. You think you’re twenty-five,” Hades said. “Eat before I lose my patience.”
Not wanting to see that scary red glow that he could get in his eyes, Persephone ate. The food was as incredible as it looked. At least she probably wouldn’t starve down here.
“Hades?” she said when she was almost finished. She already felt a little stronger. Strong enough maybe to ask the question that had been burning through her brain for a while now.
“Hmmm?”
He was still too uncomfortably close, sitting only inches away.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m still deciding,” he said.
“B-but you’re still not going to kill me?”
“I told you, you can’t be killed. You’re immortal.”
She was very sure she wasn’t. Then, remembering her nudity, a more upsetting thought occurred to her. “Did you...”
A dark and devious smile lit his face. “Did I… what?”
“Well, I...I’m naked. Did you…?”
“Did I penetrate that sweet innocent little body? No. I want you conscious for that.”
So he planned to. At some point.
Persephone swallowed hard around the last bite of chicken. Somehow it was less delicious than the previous bites, and it took a long drink of water to help get it down.
He took the tray away and set it on a small table near the door. When he returned to her bedside he said, “I know you can’t tell me because you can’t remember, but I would be fascinated to know how your father has kept you pure for thousands of years. That’s… dedication. I can’t imagine how it would even be possible.”
Persephone had given up on trying to convince him she was just a human. It seemed a waste of the precious little energy she had.
“Okay, how about this?” Hades said. “How about you tell me how you’ve made it to twenty-five without a sexual partner. You’ve had opportunities. There is no way you haven’t. You’re far too beautiful to have been passed over.”
She blushed at that even though she didn’t want his words to have any effect at all.
“I don’t know. I just wasn’t really interested in dating.”
He looked perplexed for a long while, then all at once, a dawning realization came over Hades’ face. “He took your desire away. It wasn’t enough to take your powers. He took everything that made you you, all so I wouldn’t find you and take you.”
Persephone wasn’t sure if that was true. No, she was absolutely sure it wasn’t because all of this was insane. She did appreciate male beauty. Even though she’d been afraid, she’d noticed that aesthetically Hades was just about perfect. But he was right; she couldn’t remember ever reacting to a man in the way other girls around her had claimed to. She just… hadn’t been interested in pursuing it. And a part of her felt that other women were… faking it somehow. Maybe they just wanted to be liked or wanted, so they pretended to feel the same animal lust men directed at them.
“Well,” Hades said, “I take this as a personal challenge. He can’t keep you from me. His tricks might work with mortal men, but they won’t stop you from reacting to me.”
He reached out to stroke her cheek, and she flinched. Before he could react, there was a knock on the door.
“What is it?” he growled, not taking his eyes from her.
The door eased open a few inches at a time, and then a guard, looking far more timid than seemed natural for his terrifying stature, stepped into the room.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, My Lord. But there is a matter that needs your attention in the Eastern Sector.”
Hades finally turned to the intruder, allowing her relief from that dark, assessing stare.
“It can’t wait?”
“I’m afraid not, My Lord.” The guard left and shut the door quietly behind him.
Hades went to the closet and pulled out a long, black velvet robe and laid it across the bed. “You can wear this while I’m away. I won’t be gone long.”
When he’d left, Persephone let out a long, tremulous breath. Gingerly, she got out of the bed and slipped into the robe. She hadn’t expected it to fit so perfectly, or to look like a dress on her.
The inner lining was satin. The outside was a velvet brocade with intricate, subtle designs in the material. There were three silver clasps in the front. One at her breasts, one at her belly, and one several inches below her hips. When she walked, the fabric parted, to reveal perhaps a bit more thigh than she would have liked.
Practically everything she’d seen so far of the underworld and his castle made her feel as though she were trapped in a black and white movie. All the colors were muted. Nearly everything was black or silver. She didn’t like the idea of wearing something that would make her seem more a part of this dismal, lonely world.
Persephone would have loved nothing more than to have found the clothes she’d arrived in, but either he’d hidden them or destroyed them. The doorknob clicked softly in her hand, and the momentary fear that he might have locked her in disappeared as she pushed the door open.
But when she stepped out into the hallway, it became immediately clear why he hadn’t bothered locking it. A guard stood just outside.
Instead of flinging her back into the room and growling threats at her as she expected, he bowed and said, “Is there anything I can get you, Your Grace?”
“I-I’m sorry what?”
“Or My Queen. How do you prefer to be addressed?”
“There must be some mistake. I’m not the queen. I-I’m his prisoner.”
“The prophecy was very clear. He’s searched for you for nine centuries. He’d almost given up hope of finding you. You are the queen.”
Funny, there had been no ceremony. No wedding. No coronation. She considered arguing with him some more, but if he thought she was his queen, it might be easier to get out of here. After all, prisoners couldn’t exactly give orders and be taken seriously.
Persephone steadied herself. She would have to fight not to stutter. Even if she was afraid, and even if she wasn’t really the queen of anything, the guard feared Hades and was unlikely to disrespect him by harming her in the god’s absence. But she had to sell it.
“I would like to go outside the castle.”
“Certainly, Your Grace. I can have a horse brought around for you. Would you like an escort to explore the kingdom?”
“No, I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Very well.” He went ahead of her down the hall and down the stairs.
She hadn’t really expected that to work and had to mask her shock when it did.
Persephone moved more slowly than the guard. It wouldn’t do for her to rush or run. They might become suspicious about her intentions. In reality, she had no clue how she was going to get out of here, but she couldn’t just sit around and wait for the crazy guy who had already threatened to cut off her finger to return. This might be her only opportunity.
She was halfway down the hall before she realized she had no shoes. Would it be dangerous to leave the castle without shoes? The guard hadn’t seemed to think so, if he’d even noticed at all.
She went down one flight of stairs, and then there was another more grand and elaborate staircase of black marble. This staircase led down to the long entry hall she remembered before he’d dragged her down to the dungeon and thrown her in a cage.
The guards lining the walls down on the main level didn’t spare her a glance or try to stop her. Outside there was a black horse waiting for her. She wasn’t sure if it was the horse she’d had from before. The guard from outside her room stood next to it.
“Could you get me some shoes, please?” she asked, trying not to sound too pleading. If he thought she was the queen, pleading might give away the truth.
“I’m afraid Hades left no shoes for you. But don’t worry. There is nothing here in the underworld that would dare harm you.”
If those things
knew she was trying to escape they might.
The guard helped her up into the saddle. His eyes glowed red, and his nostrils flared at the glimpse he got between her legs. She’d forgotten all she was wearing was a robe. She pulled the velvet over her and urged the horse away from the castle.
Each time the horse moved, the smooth leather saddle rubbed between her legs, eliciting a sensation that was altogether foreign and frightening in its strangeness. If only she could have found her other clothes. Anything to put a barrier between her naked skin and soft leather moving at a fierce, rhythmic pace against her.
She fought to ignore it as she guided the horse through the vast, dead meadow and to the mouth of the dead, black forest. She dug her heel into the horse’s side and he started to race through the tangled woods. He moved so fast, she had to lean forward to keep from falling, and she quickly forgot the disturbing sensations of only moments before.
When they got through the forest, she dismounted and tied the horse up to a tree. She couldn’t just let him wander back home without her. Then she walked through the long dark tunnel. When she reached the gate, she saw that the giant three-headed dog was sleeping.
Persephone couldn’t have hoped for greater luck. She eased past him and pushed the gate open. She winced as it creaked. But the dog snored on.
She’d only gotten one foot outside the gate when a giant paw pulled her back inside. Cerberus growled at her. Hades’ warning that the dog might try to eat her face if she attempted escape came flooding back all of a sudden, and she started to cry.
All three mouths on the dog started to whimper. One of the heads bent down to... nuzzle her? At least the beast wasn’t going to kill her. Or at least it didn’t appear that he would. Suddenly she felt so unbelievably tired.
Not only could Persephone not face the defeat of returning to the castle of her own accord, she felt too exhausted to move. Cerberus might not be prepared to let her escape the underworld, but the dog had settled back down to nap again. He curled up and laid his giant heads down. Persephone curled up next to the dog and fell asleep in his soft fur.
