Page 61 of Spring's Descent
“No. Your emotions are far too easy to read in your expressions.” The soft smile faded as she reached for a deep red lipstick. I lifted my chin under her command as she painted the vibrant color across my lips. “But to continue on what you were thinking, I was afraid you wouldn’t wake.”
She pulled back, allowing me to study the shade in my reflection. It was beautiful, highlighting the greens of my eyes while somehow not clashing with my hair. After another moment, I worked up the courage to meet her eyes.
“I needed to do it.”
She inhaled deeply, but gave a small, sad nod as if she understood. “In the last century, death magic has been growing stronger, but I’ve never once seen it manifest a physical form like that.”
My breathing hitched as I recalled the feel of its icy tendrils wrapping around my wrists, the sharp barbs digging beneath my skin. I glanced down, finding the place along my wrists slightly raised and pink.
“I healed you as quick as I could, but the cuts were deep.” Hecate’s words were soft, as if she were soothing a bird about to take flight. “You’ll have the scars forever.”
“I hadn’t realized how close I was to…” The pads of my fingers traced the jagged lines, a lasting reminder of just how dire the situation had become. “Death magic can’t go unchecked. I know Hades said our union was important, but Demeter always told us he wanted destruction. That the devastation was orchestrated by him to further The Dark Faction’s power.”
“Those you call The Dark Faction—demons—are witches who have mixed bloodlines with The Night Children,” Hecate said. “There are variations among any group, but most are not as deplorable as you imagine. They do not derive power from destruction, nor does Hades. Though death magic is a part of his being.”
“I’ve seen villages destroyed and innocents killed. The Crystal City, my childhood home… I was told every bad thing in my world was because of Hades and his horde of demons.”
“And now?” Hecate asked, not allowing me to look away. “After everything you’ve learned about Hades, what do you believe his character to be?”
Memories of the worry flashing through his eyes when I’d awoken last night rose to the surface, along with half-a dozen others: Hades had saved me from the Lethe and carried me upthe mountainside of Tartarus so my feet wouldn’t burn. He’d encouraged me when facing off with Kampe, despite my magic paralyzing him. Hades dove in front of the hydra to shield me, carried me across The Mountains of Mourning, and had followed me into the pit of Cocytus even after I’d stabbed him.
Maybe I was going crazy, because a piece of my heart squeezed at the worry flashing in his eyes last night.
Hades had lied to me the moment he’d opened the earth beneath my feet and dragged me to The Underworld, but he’d always kept me safe. He could’ve let me drink from the Lethe that first day. He could have forced or threatened me a number of ways, but he hadn’t.
He had even been kind when telling me the truth about Demeter, sparing me the harsher aspects of what no doubt was a monstrous ordeal. Hades was my demon, bloodthirsty and dark, but mine nonetheless.
“I think marrying him might not be so bad after all,” I muttered, hardly believing what I was saying.
But admitting to myself that I wanted him, didn’t mean he wanted me. The moments between us that had seemed real were all part of his plan. He’d orchestrated the entire thing. I was meant to fall for him… and I had.
“Why did you run?” Hecate asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between us. I glanced up, prepared for judgment in her gaze, but there was only burning curiosity. “Cocytus is a horrible place to be sure, but you had already made it through the edge of Tartarus and The Mountains of Mourning. I even understand wanting to prove a point by jumping, but why not wait for him?”
My stomach twisted as my fingers found the cool crystal around my neck. I thought back to that moment, when it felt like everything was closing in around me. When I’d realized I’d abandoned Lark to the ruthlessness of Demeter and Cyrus.
“I needed to return to The Realm of the Living.”
Hecate opened her mouth, but I continued before she could lecture me.
“Not forever. Just long enough to free a friend from my mother—Demeter’s grasp.” Because I was done calling that narcissistic bitch my mother.
“Myonlyfriend,” I corrected. “Larkspur was punished by Demeter and forced to be a servant a few years ago. I’d been so lonely before her, but Lark and I hit it off right away. We both knew what it felt like to be different and unwanted.
“The plan was always to escape together, but Lark sacrificed herself so that I could get away. Lark has the power of persuasion.”
“She’s a witch with the blood of The Night Children?” Hecate asked, her brows lifting.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’ve asked, but she’s never been open about her family. In fact, until the night of my escape, I hadn’t known she had a sister. That’s why she had to stay behind, to ensure Demeter didn’t punish her sister.”
My stomach twisted as I gripped the edge of my crystal. Hecate noted the reflex, lifting the gold chain out of my silk robe to gaze at the fire opal cradled within.
“Did you select this?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s one of the only things I’ve selected for myself. It was right before we left The Crystal City. I was only seven at the time, but it called to me. I know it's not a normal conducting stone, but Lark was able to place a location spell on it whenever we’d sneak out.”
“Did she?” Hecate asked, but it didn’t sound like a question. Her lips pressed thin as her brows furrowed. “Fire opal is a very rare stone to select. You were trying to return to The Realm of the Living for her, for Larkspur?”
“Yes.”