Page 59 of The Ash Bride
“Poseidon.”
Pelops’ sea-green eyes swam across her vision. Was that why he was in the water the day he saved her? Or why he always smelled like the ocean? She had assumed it was because he lived close to the coast and fished a lot, not that he was spending his time in the ocean. With Poseidon.
“I would never have told you, never have broken your heart like this if you had listened to me in the first place, and refrained from seeking him out.”
“You did not tell me I couldn’t seek him out or speak to him, Hades,” she snapped, pushing out of his arms and stumbling away whipping around to face him, Pelops’ betrayal momentarily forgotten. “That was not part of the bargain.”
“Neither was cursing your husband,” he said. “And King, I might add.”
“You are no King to me,” she said, jabbing a finger at him.
One eyebrow rose at her finger, and he smirked. Pelops appeared above again, still suffering against the invisible bonds of Hades’ power. He stared at Persephone, recognition clear on his face under the agony, as he pleaded with her through his eyes to end the pain.
She started toward him, intending to do anything to end his pain, end this torture he was enduring. As she reached for him, his dangling legs, he slackened. His eyes remained open wide, staring glossily ahead as his head lobbed to his chest, and his body ceased thrashing against the unseen hurt.
Persephone dropped to her knees under him, still reaching for him, a silent cry choking out of her tight throat.
“Could a non-King do that?” Hades said from behind her.
It sparked a burning rage in her and she turned on him, stalking toward him without a second thought. He stopped her, cold air swirling around her middle, holding her place. She pushed against it with no luck, she did not move an inch closer to him.
“You,” she snarled, “promised. You said you would not touch him after he came back.” She was screaming at him, spit landing on his face and chest. He didn’t bother wiping them away, shrugging at her accusation. “Why?” She asked, her voice quieter as she tried to contain her anger.
Hades examined his nails before deigning to reply, “Because I can.”
“His life was part of the deal,” she said, shaking now, with rage or heartbreak, she wasn’t sure and she didn’t care. “You killed him,” her scream echoed throughout the realm. “The deal is broken,” she said, defeated. “I am going home.”
“This is your home.”
Persephone ignored him.
“You agreed to a lifetime deal with me. A deal that cannot be broken for any reason, Persephone. The moment you ate that pomegranate,” his eyes glinted, “it was over for you. The deal was just a formality,” he brushed her off with a wave of his hand, “to help you sleep at night.”
“You lied.” Her voice was weak and hollow.
“I did not lie. You never asked. Don’t make deals you do not fully understand.” The temperature dropped and she shivered, the dark band of power surrounding her tightening as she did. “Nobody fucks with me, Persephone.” His eyes narrowed as he walked toward her. “You thought you could easily break a deal made with me? That the love you thought you shared with Pelops,” Persephone flinched at the reminder, “could ever be enough to break my power?”
He flicked his fingers at her, eyes trailing down her body. She followed his gaze, to see that he had undressed her, and cleaned her of her own bodily fluids.
“See what I can do without even thinking about it? Imagine what I can do when I use more than a sliver of it. I am more powerful than any other god. I am more powerful than you can even imagine, Persephone, and I will not allow some insignificant mortal to stand between me and what I want.” He grabbed her under the chin and jerked her face up toughly, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I will not let you go, and I certainly will not let you be with someone else.” He threw her chin back, turning his back as she stumbled backward, and walked away from her.
“Good luck,” he called over his shoulder.
The darkness claimed her again, blotting out the little light that had been emitting from Hades. It swirl around her, becoming a harsh wind whipping against her, urging her to move.
She stumbled in the direction it corralled her. This way and that, never the same direction for long as it disoriented her. Making sure she was confused and lost, unable to find her way back to Hades’ palace easily when the dark cloud eventually dissolved.
“Hades,” she called, waiting for him to appear where she stood. When he did not, she called him again and again, until she was screaming, until her voice was hoarse and her throat dry.
The ground beneath her feet was uneven, she fell and cut herself with every step, cursing at her husband as she wiped more blood on the filthy cloth hanging from her body.
She didn’t know when he had returned her bile covered clothes back to her body, but he could have at least given her something clean to wear. The smell of her alone would scare away anything that hid in the dark, waiting to pounce on her.
When she saw him again, she was going to blast him with every ounce of power she could drag from herself, all the power she was burying deeper into the small reserve of her chest. She could feel it, for the first time she could feel her power building up inside her, warming her and scratching at her bones to be released.
No matter how often she rubbed at her bare arms to warm them, she was freezing from the wind Hades sent after her. She tried to light her way and warm herself, assuming the burning inside her chest was a fire lit by her rage aching to be released, but no light and no flame reached her.
Frustrated, she opened her mouth to scream at her husband, but was cut off as her feet met open air and she plummeted downward.