Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
But of course he did not see, did he? So often, it is his habit to dismiss what is right in front of him, only to be shocked when it slips out of his grasp.
Zeus takes a heavy breath, his expression slipping back into calm even as his hands tighten around his scepter.
“Hades,” he begins, as if dealing with a stubborn child. “You can choose from any and all. There are multitudes, if only you would—”
“I chose her.” My own control is fraying. I wish to end this discussion and return to Persephone. I wish to let out the frustration I carry locked deep inside, near all the wounds that have not healed from the past. That may heal from the past, if Zeus would stop trying to take my queen from me. “I choose her. It is done. She is mine.”
Another moment of silence, this one heavier than every silence before. Zeus’s eyes burn into mine. The fire in my chest has nothing to do with Zeus.
“The bonding ritual is done?” he questions and my heart beats heavy in my chest.
This time, he is asking, with a note of hope in his voice. He hopes there has been no bonding ritual. He hopes he still has a fucking chance.
I will crush that hope beneath my heel.
“It is done,” I lie smoothly. I pray he cannot hear my racing heart.
Another long silence descends on the room. I do not look at the windows to see if the mists of time have arranged themselves into another form. I do not look at the walls.
I watch Zeus.
He watches me.
“Simply leave us be.”
“I cannot.”
“I cannot let her go,” I answer and I hear the warning yet again: what you resist persists. The hissing of the Fates clouds my judgement and for a moment, I think Zeus may have heard something as well.
Make your choice, I will him, swallowing thickly. I have made the choice that matters most in all my years. There is no backing away from it. There is no returning to how things used to be.
Unless…
I brush away the warning of that voice in the back of my mind. Unless nothing. There is nothing in all the realms of existence that could turn back time, or erase my feelings for Persephone. If Zeus is waiting for some sign of that, then he will be waiting for the rest of eternity.
Finally, Zeus answers, “You leave me no choice, Hades.”
“There are plenty of choices, Zeus. She is a daughter you were willing to lose. Don’t forget that.”
“You do not understand the anger of Demeter.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Does he mean this? Does he mean for me to cower because of the anger of Demeter? Such a giving and kind Goddess. One who bestows blessings to those who do not even ask it of her? He can bend to her whims all he wants. It does not mean anyone else has to follow his lead.
And it is not as if hers would be the first anger I faced. The first wrath I suffered. Far from it.
“The Goddess of Abundance? Of Harvest and fruitfulness?” I scoff. “The Goddess of—”
“You have stolen her daughter.” His voice is deadly low.
“You knew I would have her.”
“It is not as we discussed,” argues Zeus. “I cannot tell Demeter what transpired.”
Well. If Zeus wanted it to be another way, perhaps he should have fucking planned for that in advance. It is no worry of mine.
“Demeter will find peace when she hears her daughter is well and loved.”
“Hades.” Now he is trying to convince me. Appeal to some better nature he believes I have. “You do not know the anger of a mother torn from her child. She cannot come here. But Persphone can return.”
“No. I do not know the anger you speak of.”
His lips part again, hesitant for a moment.
“Nor is it my concern,” I continue. “You will fix this.”
“I cannot—”
“Need I remind you, Zeus, you are the one who started this.” My blood turns to fire as I remember his words.
Zeus nods, seeming to forget himself for a moment. It is not like him to accept responsibility for agreements he has made. Why would he when it is so much more convenient to toss the blame on others? It is probably Zeus’s habit on Olympus, where those around him have no choice but to shoulder whatever he throws at them.
“You do not want me to finish this, Hades,” he warns.
I lift my chin. It is impossible to straighten my back any further. “I recommend that you do confide in Demeter swiftly then. Persephone flourishes here.”
His tone echoes disbelief, “In a realm with no new life! She cannot be herself in the Underworld. Not as the Goddess she was.”
“She can as the Goddess she is now!” I bite back.