Goddess of the Underworld

“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?”