Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I imagine Persephone standing beside me, looking out at what I have done. At what I am still doing. She will not need an explanation of what is happening to the mortal realm. She will know what it means to send demons there to drive people to their deaths.
She will understand that I had to do this.
But…
She will also touch me.
My whole body shivers at the memory of her touch.
Persephone will not play games with me. She will lay her hand on my arm and say my name and ask me to come to bed with her. She will say, you do not have to do this anymore, I have returned to you, and I will not leave again. She will put an end to the choking terror that grows in the back of my mind.
My queen. Not only do I need her, the world needs her to balance me. For they allowed me to love then took her away. Now they will receive my hatred.
I push that promise into the next demon, giving it the features of the fear in my mind. Horns rise from its skull and a tail whips behind it. Grant it the color of passion: a deep red. Give it the name: the devil. It will send mortals fleeing from their houses and into dark waters. It will send them tumbling off cliffs. They will run for their very lives, and they will be right to do it, because they will see all their worst fears in this demon’s face.
More demons shudder out of the palms of my hands, faster than the last. I will send them until she returns. I will not sleep. I will not eat. I will do nothing but pull my power together and send it screaming into the mortal realm.
“I’m living in a nightmare.” I send that thought with the next demon. “You will live in a nightmare, too. Zeus would do well to pay attention.” They will blame him, eventually. It will all come back to him, and he will have to pay the penance for it. When they have had their fill in the mortal realm, these demons will be starved for Olympus.
Demeter floods the Underworld with souls, I return them as demons. This is justice. This is righteous. It is earned. And Zeus allowed it!
Thump, thump, thump. The steady but slow pacing is easily heard between the thunderous births of my undead army.
Footsteps approach from somewhere in my home.
The door to my chambers opens with an eerie creak. It’s gentle yet firm.
With a scowl marring my face, I lower my hands and turn to look at whoever dares disturb my work.
A guard. I used to know his name, but in this moment, it does not come to me. Rage blinds me. I turn away from him.
A moment later, he dares to clear his throat. “My Lord.”
Slowly, seething, I drop my hands again, the demon I was creating disappearing into a cloud of ash, and turn around to look at the lone guard. His face is ghastly and sunken in. Nearly skull-like. A guard of the dead. Although his gaze is a piercing blue and as his head turns his mortal features come and go. The cloak he wears is torn but still drags on the ground. It’s edges dirtied from the ash against the light gray coloring it once was. He stands as close to the door as he can get. Does he not know that it makes no difference? The door could not save him if I decided I wanted his soul erased for good. Perhaps that’s his desire.
Anger simmers within me.
He clears his throat again. “She asks for time.” His tone rises a little at the end of the sentence, as if his statement is a question.
The guard must see my impatience, because he squares his shoulders although his voice wavers. “She asks for time, my Lord.”
“Who is she?” I spit.
“Your queen.”
“Our queen,” I shout. My harsh correction echoes off the stone walls.
“Our queen,” the guard repeats quickly, his voice trembling. He stands stick straight, attempting to appear as if he’s not terrified, but it is obvious that he is.
It’s then I remember his name. His story. What brought him to be a highly stationed guard. Swallowing thickly, I know I cannot go on like this for eternity. I know that. But the knowledge only makes me want to end it faster. To be more extreme.
“How much time?” I question quietly.
“She did not say,” he answers. “She simply asked for time.”
His answer leaves me wanting. Snarling, I crave to shout at him. To rage at him. To unleash every barbed word from my mouth onto this guard.
This messenger.
I do not.
“I will not deny her anything she asks for that is in my power to give. In that time, I will continue what I have promised Hecate,” I tell him, then turn back to the window. “Pass along that message to my queen.”