A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 2)
A Touch of Ruin: Part 1 – Chapter 11

Persephone draped herself over Hades’ naked body and rested her head on his chest. She reveled in the feel of him against her. It was like coming home after all those nights she’d spent alone. They’d just come from the bathes after making love in the grove. Her body felt warm and limber, and her eyes were heavy with sleep. She should have succumbed, lulled by the soft circles Hades was tracing on her back and the smell of salt on his skin.

Instead, she chose to speak.

“I’ll mentor Leuce,” she said, peaking at him when the silence stretched too long, wondering what he was thinking.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

“Me either,” she admitted, but she felt like it was the right thing to do. “And I need you to give her a place to stay and her job back. Please.”

Hades continued to trace shapes against her skin. “Why do you wish to mentor her?”

Persephone shrugged. “Because, I think I know how she feels.”

Hades raised a brow. “Explain.”

“She’s been a tree for thousands of years, suddenly she’s normal again and the whole world has changed. It’s…scary…and I know how that feels.”

Hades was quiet for a long moment, and then he said again, as if to make sure, “You want to mentor my former lover?”

Persephone sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Hades.”

“I don’t want you to, but are you sure?”

“It’s weird, I admit, but…she’s a victim. I want to help her.”

It was a hard thing to say to him, given that he was the reason she’d been a poplar tree. Granted, what Leuce had done was wrong, but was it worth losing out on thousands of years?

Hades touched her chin.

“You amaze me,” he said.

She giggled. “I am not amazing. I wanted to punish her at first.”

“But you didn’t,” he said. “There are no other gods like you.”

“I haven’t lived long enough to be jaded like the rest of you,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll end up like the others before long.”

“Or perhaps you will change the rest of us.”

They stared at one another, bodies pressed together until Persephone sat up, straddling Hades. The god beneath her had one hand behind his head. He looked arrogant and she supposed he had reason to be—he had made her come over and over and he had been ruthless in his pursuit.

“Eager for more, my lady?” He asked, growing harder and thicker under her.

She smiled. That wasn’t why she had sat up. She’d had something to say and she wanted to say it now before she forgot, but at his question, she realized she was eager for more—eager to take control of his body, to use him as an instrument.

“Actually, I’m afraid I must make a few demands,” she said, and she slid onto his shaft, filling herself completely. She let out a breath, sore from their previous coupling. Hades hands went to her thighs, squeezing.

“Yes?” he said from between his teeth.

“I don’t want to be placed in a suite on the other side of the palace, ever,” she said, rolling her hips, feeling him everywhere. “Not to get ready for balls. Not when you are angry with me. Not ever.”

She punctuated each of her statements by slamming into him.

Hades fingers dug into her skin.

“I thought you would want privacy,” he said.

She paused in her movements and bent over him. His eyes burned into hers.

“Fuck privacy. I needed you, needed to know you still wanted me despite…everything.”

He drew his arm around her neck and brought her lips to his. She started to move again when Hades rolled, taking control, except that once she was beneath him, he didn’t move. She glared at him and lifted her hips, but he remained still.

“I will always want you, and I would have welcomed you to my bed any night.”

“I didn’t know,” she said.

He pressed a thumb to her swollen lips.

“Now you do.”

He gave her a bruising kiss, and they came together again, working through their anger and their pain until all they felt was their hearts beating together as one.

***

Persephone rose hours later in search of Hecate. She found the Goddess of Witchcraft in her cabin bundling sage.

“Good evening, my sweet. You look well.”

Persephone smiled. “I am well Hecate, thank you.”

“You are here to ask for a favor?”

Persephone twisted her fingers together.

“How did you know?”

Hecate smirked. “I don’t imagine you were eager to leave Hades’ company. Something brought you to my doorstep and it isn’t training.”

Persephone snorted and explained. “I need to speak to my mother, but under…controlled circumstances.”

“You wish to summon her so you can also dismiss her?”

Persephone nodded. “Can you help me?”

Hecate wrapped the last of the sage. When she was finished, she turned toward Persephone meeting her gaze.

“My dear, I would love nothing more than to help you stand up to your mother.”

Persephone grinned and they teleported to her room in the Upperworld. Hecate got to work, instructing Persephone in the art of summoning spells.

“First, we must cleanse this area,” she said, burning sage and carrying the smoking bundle around the room. Once she was finished, Hecate used her magic to draw a triple circle on her floor.

“Conjuring the living is no different from conjuring the dead,” Hecate explained. “In both cases you are summoning the soul so the spell is the same.”

Hecate gave Persephone a piece of obsidian and a piece of quartz.

“Obsidian for protection,” she said. “And quartz for power.”

After that, she produced a black candle which she placed in the center of the triple circle. She hovered over it, her eyes lifting to meet Persephone’s.

“When I lite this candle, the spell is complete. Your mother will hear the call.”

“Are you sure she will come?”

The Goddess shrugged. “There is a chance she may resist, but I doubt your mother will give up the chance to see you.”

“You don’t know how angry she was when we last spoke.”

“You are still her daughter,” Hecate said. “She will come.

Hecate bent, cupping her hand over the wick of the candle. Persephone saw the goddess’s lips move, and when she pulled away, a black flame flickered.

“Shall I leave you now?”

Persephone nodded. “Yes, thank you, Hecate.”

She smiled. “Just blow out the candle, when you are ready for her to leave.”

Persephone bit her lip. “You are sure she won’t be able to stay?”

Or hurt me?

“Only if she is invited,” Hecate promised before vanishing.

Persephone was alone for only a few minutes when the smell of sage and burning wax was cut with the scent of wildflowers and a sharp chill.

Strange.

Demeter’s magic usually felt warm like a pale spring sun.

Persephone turned, and found her mother standing in the shadow of her room. Demeter hadn’t changed, except for looking far more severe than she remembered. She wore blue robes, and her gold hair lay straight, parted at the center, framing her beautiful and cold face. Her antlers were both elegant and dreadful. They filled space, making Persephone’s room more cramped. She was perfection, and her presence sucked the air out of Persephone’s lungs.

“Daughter,” she said coldly.

“Mother,” Persephone acknowledged.

The goddess of harvest studied Persephone, probably picking apart her appearance. Demeter hated her curly hair and freckles, and when given the chance, she’d cover them up with her glamour. Whatever she saw there didn’t change her severe expression, and after a moment, her gaze swept the room.

“Am I too hopeful? Have you summoned me to beg my forgiveness?”

Persephone wanted to laugh. If anyone should beg forgiveness, it was Demeter. She was the one who had kept Persephone a prisoner most of her life, and even when she’d released her, it had been on a long leash.

“No, I have summoned you to tell you to stop interfering with my life.”

Demeter’s cold gaze returned to Persephone. Her hazel eyes turning yellow in the candlelit.

“Are you accusing me of something, Daughter?”

Persephone felt a little uneasy. It occurred to her that her mother might be responsible for more than Leuce’s release from the poplar tree—what other plans did she have to force her away from Hades?

“You released Hades’ former lover from her prison,” Persephone said.

“Why would I bother with something so trivial?” Demeter sounded bored, but Persephone wasn’t convinced.

“Good question, mother.”

Demeter turned from her daughter, and began snooping around her room, inspecting, judging. She pulled open her nightstand drawers and opened anything with the lid, wrinkling her nose.

“This place smells like Hades,” she said, and then she straightened, eyes narrowing upon Persephone. “You smell like him.”

Persephone crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her mother.

“I hope you’re using protection,” Demeter said. “That’s all you need—to be tied to the God of the Dead for the rest of your life.”

“That’s a given,” Persephone said. “You’re the only one who seems to think it isn’t.”

“You don’t know Hades,” she said. “You’re just now learning that for yourself. I know it bothers you. You fear what you don’t know.”

Persephone hated her mother for being right.

“I could say the same about you, mother. What don’t I know about you? What evils do you hide under your perfect facade?”

“Do not make this about me. You jumped into his arms as soon as he said he loved you. It is embarrassing that your judgement extends to his skin. I raised you better.”

“You didn’t raise me at all—”

“I imprisoned you,” Demeter interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Gods you are a broken record. I gave you everything. A home, friends, love. It wasn’t enough for you.”

“It wasn’t enough,” she snapped. “And it would have never been enough! Did you really think you could challenge Fate and win? You criticize other gods for their arrogance yet are the worst.”

Demeter smiled coldly. “The Fates may have given you what you wanted—a taste of freedom, a taste of forbidden love, but do not mistake their offer with kindness. The Fates punish, even gods.”

“They punished you,” Persephone said. “Not me.”

Demeter offered a small smile. “That remains to be seen, my flower. Do you know, the Fates named you? Persephone. I didn’t understand then how my precious, sweet flower could be given such a name. Destroyer. But that is what you are—a destroyer of dreams, of happiness, of lives.”

Persephone’s eyes glazed with tears as her mother spoke.

“Oh yes, my love. Enjoy what Fate has offered you because they have woven your destiny and you are a disgrace.”

Persephone kicked the candle, spilling wax and extinguishing the flame. Her mother’s form vanished, yet her scent lingered, choking her. She fell to her knees, breathing hard, when her door opened. Lexa, Sybil, and Leuce were gathered there.

“Persephone, are you okay?” Lexa rushed to her side. Sybil picked up the candle, looking perplexed. Leuce was the only one who seemed to know what was going on.

“Summoning spell?” she asked.

Persephone met the woman’s gaze and through her tears she said, “We need to talk.”

Lexa helped Persephone to her feet, and Sybil cleaned the wax up from the floor. Once they were finished, Persephone closed the door to her room. Leuce sat on the edge of her bed, eyes wide, twisting her fingers together in her lap. She probably thought Persephone was going to kick her out.

“I’ve asked Hades to give you an apartment and your job back,” she said.

Leuce’s breath caught in her throat. “Th-thank you, Persephone.”

“I’ve also agreed to help you learn this world,” she said. “There is one more thing you should know—my mother is Demeter, Goddess of Harvest.”

Persephone didn’t think Leuce’s eyes could get any bigger.

“You—You’re a goddess?”

Persephone nodded once. “It’s important you keep my secret, Leuce. Do you understand?”

“Of course…but….why tell me?”

“Because I need you to be honest with me. Who freed you from the poplar tree?”

“I swear I don’t know,” Leuce said, her pale brows were drawn together over her pretty ice-blue eyes. “I just remember waking up alone.”

She shivered, rubbing her arms, as if the memory scared her. Persephone studied the nymph for a moment, and then sighed.

“I believe you,” Still, that didn’t mean Demeter wasn’t responsible. “Will you tell me if my mother contacts you?”

Leuce nodded and then swallowed. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “Persephone…what if she was the one to free me? Will she come for me? What if she turns me back into a tree?”

Persephone hadn’t thought of that, but her answer was immediate. “If she does, I’ll replace you.”

“She could burn me to a crisp,” Leuce said, and then offered a humorless laugh. “It’s strange, the things you fear when you’re a tree.”

Persephone frowned. The sad part was, she knew her mother was capable of that kind of malice. The goddess placed a hand on the nymph’s arm. “I’ll do my best to protect you, Leuce. I promise.”

The woman smiled. “You’re really not like the rest of them, Persephone.”

***

Upon returning to work, Persephone was more prepared for the crowd outside the Acropolis than she had ever been. She’d decided rather than entering the building with her head down, she would face them head on, maybe even answer a few of the questions. It wasn’t exactly her idea of freedom, but it was a way to take control over the situation and it was better than feeling trapped.

“Thank you, Antoni,” Persephone said when he opened her door. “See you after work?”

“Yes, my lady.”

She smiled at him and started down the aisle.

“Good morning,” she chimed as she passed the gathering.

“Persephone! Persephone! Can I get an autograph?”

She stopped, meeting the gaze of a mortal man. He held out a marker and a booklet. She took it and signed her name, his eyes lighting up.

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered out.

“Persephone, how long have you and Hades been together?” another person asked.

“Not long,” she replied.

“What made you fall in love with him?” someone yelled.

“Well, he is charming,” she said with a small laugh.

The walk continued like that—answering questions, signing articles and pictures, and taking photos with fans. She was almost to the doors when something shattered on the ground behind her. She turned to see a bottle in pieces at her feet. Security rushed the crowd, while another officer took her by the arm and ushered her inside.

“Are you alright, Miss Rosi?” The officer, an older man with a buzz cut and mustache, asked.

Persephone blinked up at him. She hadn’t had time to process what had just happened. Someone tried to hurt her, she realized. She took a deep breath and let it out slow, then nodded.

“Yes.”

The officer didn’t look so certain, frowning down at her.

Persephone’s eyes fell to his gold nameplate and she smiled. “Thank you, Officer Woods.”

The guard smirked; his face reddened. “It…it was nothing.”

She broke free of the officer and headed for the elevators in a daze. Her thoughts turned to Hades’ words: It is only a matter of time before someone with a vendetta against me tries to harm you. How would the god react once he found out about this incident?

When she made it to her floor, Helen was waiting, a concerned look on her face.

“Oh, my gods, Persephone! Are you okay? I heard what happened.”

“How?” Persephone asked. She’d literally just left the first floor.

“It’s on the news,” she said. “There was a crew filming live as you arrived. They caught everything on camera.”

Persephone groaned. So much for keeping this from Hades.

“Did they show the person who threw the bottle?”

“Yes, his face is plastered all over the news.”

Oh no.

Persephone hurried to her desk. She needed to get ahold of Hades before he acted. She knew the God of the Dead would seek his own revenge against the mortal who tried to hurt her, and as much as she wanted him to face some sort of punishment for his rash actions, torture in Tartarus seemed a bit extreme.

The only person she could think to call was Ilias. The Satyr had taken over managing Hades’ schedule in Minthe’s…absence.

The phone rang once before he answered.

“Ilias, where is Hades?”

“Indisposed, my lady,” he answered, pausing a moment before asking. “Are you well?”

“Ilias, I’m fine. Tell Hades not to hurt the mortal—”

She was interrupted when another call came through on her phone. She looked at the screen and saw Lexa was calling. She’d probably seen the news and wanted to make sure she was okay.

She sighed. “Ilias, let me call you back. Tell Hades not to hurt that mortal!”

Persephone hung up on the Satyr and answered Lexa’s call.

“Yes, Lex. I’m fine—”

Except, it wasn’t Lexa on the other end.

“Persephone, it’s Jason.”

The hysteria in his voice made her heart race.

“Jaison, why—”

“You need to come to the hospital now.”

“Okay. Okay. What happened?”

“It’s Lexa. They aren’t sure she’ll make it.”

Persephone felt like she’d just had the air sucked from her lungs. Her heart had never felt like this before—irregular and sick, poisoned by a terror so acute she thought it might have stopped.

Lexa’s in the hospital. They aren’t sure she’ll make it.

Suddenly she wondered if this was the start of Apollo’s revenge.