Page 36 of Love and Death
“I want to help,” she all but whispers in my ear.
“Help,” I scoff, whirling toward her voice but finding only empty air. “Help with what?”
“The mortal.”
“Have you not done enough harm already?”
“Harm? If we are speaking ofharm, then I have certainly done no worse than you,” Persephone calls out, her words twisting my stomach with guilt.
“No worse than me?” I say with a bitter laugh. “Is that so? Then, when were you going to tell me about the mortal’s role here?”
“Her role?”
“Yes, do not play coy with me,” I snarl. “So, I ask again, when were you going to tell me her role in Hades’ deal?!”
A pause.
“I was only doing what I thought had to be done.”
“What youthoughthad to be done—”
“Yes,” the goddess cuts me off, her soft voice suddenly sharper than a blade. “If you had been here … if you had seen what Hades has put us through, then perhaps you would understand. Perhaps, you would have finally acted as the guardian you were meant to be, and none of this would have ever been necessary.”
My lip curls up over my fangs in disgust, my eyes narrowing as I scan the arena for any sign of where she might be.
“You know that was not possible.”
“Are you truly so blinded by your loyalty to my husband to believe that?”
“Loyalty,” I snort, the word like bile on my tongue. “Do you honestly think that I act out of loyalty to him?”
“Do you not?”
A wry smile pulls at the corners of my mouth.
“No. Loyalty denotes choice,” I say coldly. “Despite what others say. Despite what I let them think. I am not loyal to Hades … I amenslavedto him, a fate I believe you understand all too well.”
The air around me begins to shimmer and thicken,and I feel the goddess’ presence glistening like a heavy dew upon my skin. I sense her hesitation as the atmosphere trembles, a tense moment of silence briefly filling the space, before she suddenly materializes a few feet in front of me amidst a burst of petals.
Persephone steps closer, her long hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves as she peers up at me with searching eyes, and I am surprised by the fear I see within them.
“You should not say such things aloud,” she says, her voice calm but wary.
I raise an eyebrow at her warning, my gaze hardening.
“Why? I only speak the truth, and I do not fear Hades’ wrath.”
“Oh, but you should,” she whispers. “He may not be able to kill you, but that is not a luxury afforded too many. Be careful, Cerberus. Even something as seemingly harmless as a few words can bring about the destruction of a kingdom.”
There is something about the way she says this that sets me on edge. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“The mortal was never part of Hades’ deal with the Fates.”
“But I was told—"
“She is part of mine.”
I stare at Persephone in stunned silence as I try to gather my thoughts, and for the first time, I see more than meets the eye.
