Hades and Persephone: A Fated Love Book 2

A Gift for Hades

Hades and I must have stayed in the waters for days. He would leave occasionally to attend to his work, but he never pressed me to join him. He never pressed me to do anything at all.

When I finally ventured away from the pools, my feet wandered to the garden as if on their own accord. This was where everything began between me and Hades, and even after everything, I still ran my fingers through the moonlight streaming from the sky.

It must have been nighttime, even in Olympus. I knelt beside the pomegranate tree, then lay in the grass beside it. My life could have gone in a thousand different ways, but I think the Fates worked for the best to have me there, changed for the better.

When Hades finally joined me, he merely lay his cloak on the ground and lay in the grass below the tree. We stared through its leaves and he stretched out with a sigh.

"I know better than to follow you here again," he said. "But I promise to behave myself this time."

"I shouldn't have struck you," I laughed, remembering our first confrontation so long ago outside the garden.

"You should have. I deserved it," he replied. "Even if I am still not sorry."

I rolled over to face him and propped my chin on my wrists. He raised an eyebrow, ready for whatever I was going to tease him with. "I brought you a gift from Olympus." I said.

His face was unreadable for a moment. "I don't think anyone has ever given me a gift."

"You make it difficult. I wish you were more material," I replied. Hades laughed in the way that made his eyes sparkle. I fought a smile of my own as I continued, "but I found some poetry that's truly great and I remembered it so you could keep it."

Surprise crossed his face, and I tried to remember the details of his expression. It wasn't a look I saw from him often. I did, however, glimpse the moment he suspected the identity of this mystery poet and the surprise faded away. His lips curled into a wry smile and he leaned back into the garden, closing his eyes in the moonlight. "Let me hear it, then."

I cleared my throat and scooted closer. His fingers trailed lazily along my hip as I began to recite.

"Ancient waters chase above me,
In endless caverns dark and lovely.
Winter is a time where things are taken
And forged in a world below worlds.
There are unspeakable things here,
Treasures unnamed and touches untamed—
Fires in the snow. Such a brilliance
Unseen. Overcast and unknown.
But beautiful things are best received blindly.
Perhaps most aptly in the dark."

Hades's eyes stayed fixated on the stars. When I finished, he stayed quiet for a long moment. "Beautiful," he finally murmured.

Hades knew me well enough that he didn't wax endlessly about the thing. I think I would have died from embarrassment if he even acknowledged I wrote this piece for him. We had read better poetry together, more masterful and beautifully crafted. But he still turned his head to peer up at me. "That was a truly great piece of poetry."

"I'll tell the writer."

"Good," he replied. "I particularly enjoyed the part about unspeakable things."

"Hades," I laughed.

"I'm being earnest," he said, and the fingers at my waist seemed more playful than before. "How do you interpret the line?"

"I don't know, but there is another poem I heard that's about you," I said.

"Oh really? Is it by the same writer?"

"Yes," I rested my chin on his shoulder before reciting, "Hades will give you a scare.
He likes to brood in his lair.
As strange as it seems,
Like the god of dreams,
He's unusually vain with his hair."

"I must admit, I liked the first piece better."

"I feel myself taken by another poetic whim," I replied, rolling out of his reach. His eyes flashed with humor as I announced, "There once was a god of the dead, he was unusually cruel, so they said—"

Hades chased me from the gardens and I ran through the caverns, echoing with laughter. We ran through the throne room, beyond the caves and past the hollow oaks. The paths of our home were worn with memory, and I led him to our bedroom where he caught me outside and pushed me against the door.

I should have known it wasn't him who kissed me here when Dolos invaded the underworld. No, when Hades lowered his mouth against mine, the tension between us made my heart pound violently. This time, I yanked him nearer by his cloak and kissed him with an impatience that had built since all that wretched jealousy tore us apart. I pushed him against the bedroom door and he caught my wrists before I could push him inside. It was the second time of the night I surprised him.

"Please, be delicate with me," he teased.

"I'm only showing you how I interpret the line," I replied.

This time, he didn't protest and we crashed into our bedroom with a passion that wouldn't be broken again by words. No. The conversation ended as Hades slammed the door shut.