A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 2)

Persephone sat up in bed, knees pulled to her chest, unable to sleep. She had so much to fix. The Upperworld raged against her and Hades was hurt.

Is your word worth nothing?

She realized he’d said the words in anger, but they pierced her chest each time she recalled them, a blade slamming into the same incision.

Did he really believe that? Had she lost his trust?

She didn’t know the time, but the darkness outside her windows seemed endless. Persephone rose from bed, pulled on her robe, and wandered outside into the garden. The stone path was cool against her bare feet and the perfumed scent of flowers followed her as she walked. She paused now and then, touching velvet roses and weeping wisteria.

She wasn’t outside long when she suddenly felt as if she were being watched and turned to see Hades outside his room. He stood, arms braced against the balcony. Even from this distance, she knew he tracked her every movement, her every breath. She hoped he was in agony, she hoped he ached for her. There were few places she could go in the Underworld where there were no memories of time spent with Hades. Not long ago, he had chased her through this garden, pinned her against the wall and made love to her.

She hoped he was thinking about that now. She hoped he thought of how hot her mouth had been around his cock in the grove. She hoped he remembered how he’d praised her for tasting sweet as his mouth consumed her flesh. She hoped he thought of all these things while he slept alone in his cold bed.

Part of her wanted him to come after her, materialize out of the darkness, and consume her, but this time, things were different. It wasn’t that Hades was angry. Anger meant punishment and that usually led to pleasure.

Hurt meant time. It meant distance.

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and turned from him, continuing down the path, farther into the garden.

At some point, she returned to her room. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing she knew, she was roused by a knock at the door and Hecate entered in sweeping, crimson robes.

“Good morning, my sweet!”

A nymph followed her into the room carrying a covered tray.

“I brought breakfast. Let’s eat.”

Persephone joined Hecate on the balcony. She had brought an array of fruit, breads, jams, and coffee.

“Anything else, my lady?” the nymph asked.

“Uh, no.” Persephone replied, and the nymph bowed, leaving them alone.

“It is a divine morning,” Hecate said, taking a deep breath. “I thought we might practice early this morning—”

“Did you know Leuce had returned?”

“Oh no, Hades isn’t going to get me in trouble. I knew she was back and advised him to tell you. What he chose to do or not isn’t my fault.”

“Tell me about her,” Persephone said.

Hecate froze, her mug half-way to the lips. Finally, she took a sip before asking, “What do you want to know?”

“Did Hades love her?”

“Not like he loves you,” she said without hesitation.

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Hecate.”

“Truly I am not. Or, at least, I wouldn’t say something that isn’t true. Hades cared for her, yes. I think he believed he loved her; I also think he knows differently now.”

“I was completely blind-sighted.”

“As I am sure your mother hoped you would be.”

“My mother?” Persephone hadn’t heard or spoken to Demeter since she’d destroyed her greenhouse, and she had to admit, she didn’t really miss her.

“Oh yes, this reeks of Demeter,” Hecate said, wrinkling her nose. “Who else has the power to turn a tree back into a nymph?”

Hades, she wanted to point out, but knew that the god hadn’t been the one to restore Leuce to her natural form.

“Why would my mother do Hades’ lover a favor?”

Hecate laughed. “You didn’t think you’d get the last word in, did you? Demeter attempted to defy the Fates to keep you from Hades. She will try anything to pry you away from him. You know that.”

Persephone was quiet. She hadn’t even considered that her mother might be involved in this, but now that Hecate had said something, she couldn’t believe it hadn’t been her first thought.

After a moment, she put her head in her hands.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”

“The first rule of men, Persephone, is that they’re all idiots.”

She started to protest, but Hecate interrupted her.

“And don’t start thinking that just because Hades is ancient and wise in other matters of life means he’s above idiocy. He’s not. Trust me. I have existed alongside him to see it all.”

“He is an idiot,” she agreed. “But…so am I.”

Hecate’s eyes softened. “You are.”

The two shared a laugh.

“Are you going to turn me into a polecat?” Persephone asked, and though she meant it as a joke, she felt tears prick her eyes.

The goddess smiled. “No, dear, I already have one.”

Persephone wiped at her face fiercely. “Oh, Hecate. What do I do? I hurt Hades. I didn’t think…well, I didn’t think at all. I was so—”

“Hurt,” Hecate said. “Hades hurt you, too. You hurt each other. The answer is simple. You apologize.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It is enough. It’s enough because you love each other.”

Persephone took a breath. Apologize. She could do that.

“Okay,” she said, standing. “Where is he?”

Hecate rose from her seat.

“Just wait a little longer. You’ll want him angry for when Apollo arrives. Now, let’s channel some of this pain into a lesson.”

The two made their way to one of Hades’ many orchards. She was still learning the Underworld and its vast landscape, but one of the things she’d discovered is that Hades had a network of vegetation—grapes, olives, figs, dates, and pomegranates. The Goddess of Magic chose a clearing where a particularly large pomegranate tree had grown. Its emerald leaves contrasted darkly with the crimson fruit hanging heavy from its branches.

For a moment, Persephone was enchanted by the clearing.

And then came the bees.

“Where the hell did these come from?” Persephone asked, dodging another winged demon as it charged for her face. These were not nice bees.

“I summoned them,” Hecate said cheerily.

“You—what?”

“Using magic under stressful situations is a valuable skill, Persephone.”

“Don’t you think I am under enough stress?”

“In your mind,” she answered. “Good practitioners of magic must learn to work under both mental and physical stress.”

Not today, she wanted to say.

“Well, I am not a good practitioner of magic.”

“If you keep saying that, it will become the truth.”

“It is the truth. You’re the only one who can’t see it. Even Hades knows. He’s only been letting me think I am powerful enough to use magic against him.”

Hecate’s brows came together. “What do you mean?”

She told her what happened last night with the thorns.

“It was effortless for him.”

“My love. You must remember that Hades is in his realm. Here he is all-powerful.”

That didn’t help, because all the times she’d used her magic with him, she’d been here in the Underworld. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much. She guessed because she had used that as a measure of improvement—and just as easily as he’d used his magic to turn hers into ash, he’d taken her fragile confidence with it.

Hecate sighed. “Perhaps I have overstepped. I am sorry for the bees.”

Once Hecate dismissed the bees, they focused on practice.

“Remember what I told you,” the goddess said, positioning her in front of the pomegranate tree. “Magic is malleable.”

Persephone did remember. They were words Hecate had spoken shortly after she started to feel life in the plants, flowers, and trees around her.

Practicing magic with Hecate was nothing like practicing on her own. The goddess was dedicated to the craft and meticulous in her instruction. Persephone was told to ripen the pomegranates on the tree in the middle of the grove. They weighted down branches of the tree, their skin was a greenish-yellow, bruising with a crimson red. It meant that she was going to have to demonstrate control in gathering and channeling her power.

Hecate’s words rose to the surface of her mind as she called up her magic.

Imagine it as clay—mold it into what you desire and then…give it life.

It was easier said than done.

Persephone felt the heat of magic pulse through her veins. It pooled into her palms like water warmed beneath the sun, and as she closed her eyes, she imagined herself manipulated the glamour into a ripe, red pomegranate.

“Perfect,” she heard Hecate say encouragingly.

Persephone took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She couldn’t see the magic she held in her hands, but she could feel it. It was energy, and it charged the air around her, raising the hair on her arms and the back of her neck.

“Now, direct the magic at your target.”

Persephone did as Hecate instructed, pushing her hands out as the magic pulsed from her palms, leaving them covered in a cold sweat. The magic reached the tree, and the pomegranates began to swell and darken.

“Yes!” Persephone jumped, excited by her success.

But the fruit kept growing.

And growing.

And growing.

Oh no.

“Take cover!” Hecate grabbed Persephone’s hand and dragged her behind a nearby tree.

A second later, she heard a loud pop as several pomegranates exploded. Persephone didn’t want to look, but she peered around the tree anyway. The whole grove was covered in red. It looked like a bloodbath.

Her shoulder sagged with defeat.

“You just used too much power,” Hecate said.

“I think that’s more than obvious, Hecate,” Persephone snapped, frustrated with herself.

The Goddess of Witchcraft didn’t seem fazed by Persephone’s outburst and just smiled. “Do not see this as defeat, my dear. It’s only through a failure to control your power that we will learn how strong you truly are.”

But Persephone didn’t feel powerful, and she said as much. “I can grow plants and kill them. To gods, those are parlor tricks.”

“Right now,” Hecate agreed. “But that does not mean other powers won’t manifest.”

Persephone pursed her lips. She thought about how she’d been sensing emotions off and on since Sybil had come to her apartment.

“My dear, there’s darkness inside of you, and we have only touched the surface.”

A shiver slithered up her spine. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words.

Let me coax the darkness from you—I will help you shape it.

They were words Hades had spoken against her skin right before he explored her body for the first time, inside and out. She hadn’t known what he meant then, she didn’t know what Hecate meant now, and she decided she didn’t want to ask.

“Can you fix this mess?” Persephone asked Hecate. Thick pulp dripped from tree limbs onto the flowers below. It looked like a battlefield.

“I could,” Hecate said. “But then I wouldn’t have a lesson for later.”

“You want me to fix this?” Persephone knew she didn’t have to, but she threw her arms out, gesturing to the disaster in front of them. “What makes you think I can mend this when I couldn’t stop it from happening?”

“If I thought you could do it on your own, it wouldn’t be a lesson,” the goddess replied.

Persephone seethed.

One day, she would turn her mother into a carrion flower for keeping her magic from manifesting.

“Do not worry, my love. You will learn your power as you learn yourself,” Hecate promised.

The two made their way back to the palace. For a while they were able to stay away from the topic of Hades and Apollo, mostly because Hecate used the walk as a teaching moment after they’d happened upon a grove of hemlock.

“At some point, I will instruct you in the art of poison,” Hecate said. “It’s a useful skill for any lady to possess.”

Persephone gave Hecate an uncertain look.

“I don’t think poisoning is useful skill, Hecate.”

“It is when you must kill discreetly.”

“And when do you need to kill discreetly?”

She shrugged. “There are all sorts of instances—abusers of women and children, sex traffickers, rapists…the list goes on.”

Huh, perhaps Hecate was onto something.

They walked along in silence for a little while, Persephone contemplating the usefulness of poison against one god in particular when she asked, ‘What does Hades have against Apollo?’

She knew why she disliked him, of course, but Hades’ fury seemed to surpass her own.

She added, “And don’t tell me to ask him.”

Hecate offered a small smile. “It’s what all gods have against each other, I suppose—the knowledge of their history and deeds.”

Hecate pause and faced Persephone.

“Hades isn’t trying to be difficult. He fears for you. Apollo…his vengeance is cruel.”

“I know.”

“You don’t,” Hecate argued, and Persephone was a little surprised by her tone. ‘In antiquity, he and his sister murdered fourteen children. The children themselves were innocents, it was their mother, Niobe, who had offended them after she claimed to be superior to the gods’ own mother, Leto.’

Fourteen children? How was the world not appalled by these two gods?

“Needless to say, Apollo is unpredictable, and rather than take a chance, Hades has brought you here to the Underworld—his realm—where any action Apollo takes will be considered making war upon the God of the Dead. Apollo might be rash, but he isn’t stupid. He does not want Hades as an enemy.”

Despite feeling a new kind of terror, Persephone was glad she asked.

They returned to the palace where they had dinner and discussed the finer details of the Summer Solstice Celebration.

“I have commissioned a new crown,” Hecate said just as Persephone was about to take a drink from her wine. She spit it back into the cup.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Ian is very excited.”

Persephone glared. Of course, she’d bring Ian into this. The soul was a master blacksmith. Before he died, he’d made armor and weapons and was favored by Artemis. It was that favor that got him killed. The soul now used his skill in the Underworld to craft beautiful, intricate things—lampposts and gates and the occasional crown.

“I don’t need another crown, Hecate. The one Ian made for me is very beautiful. I can wear it to the solstice celebration.”

She didn’t say what she was really thinking. A crown was presumptuous. Hades wasn’t speaking to her right now, how could she be sure he still wanted her as his queen?

“You could, but why would you when you’ll have a new one?”

Persephone sighed. “I wish you’d have asked me.”

“I’d really rather not,” she said. “Now, about the dress. I was thinking black…”

Hecate continued explaining her vision for what she called Persephone’s ‘grand ensemble.’ The goddess only half-listened, her mind wandering to the story of Apollo, his sister, and Hades. During her research of the God of Music, she hadn’t considered checking into other stories from his past. The god’s offenses were indeed endless and violent, and she found herself wondering if even Hades could prevent his retaliation.

After dinner, Persephone found herself alone in her suite again. She started to curse Hades for building it. Who puts their wife in a whole other part of their palace? It was so…antiquated!

You aren’t his wife, she corrected herself. You are his…girlfriend.

Maybe.

She couldn’t be sure. She hadn’t seen Hades since he left her here yesterday. She had attempted to go in search of him earlier and hadn’t found him anywhere in the palace. She assumed that must mean he was at Nevernight or dealing with Leuce.

Her mood darkened further, and she found herself outside again, exploring the Underworld in the fading light. Her frustration caused the flowers around her to bloom and the grass to grow taller. She hated it. She was literally leaving a path for anyone to follow.

She traveled far, over rocky hills and mossy valleys until she found herself on the edge of a cliff, face-to-face with a grey ocean.

The wind whipped her face, cooling her heated face. Her insides were still raging. She felt so angry—angry with Apollo and with Hades and being stuck in that gods-forsaken suite. Was this his form of punishment? Leaving her in the Underworld and avoiding her at all costs? He didn’t seem at all sorry for his part in this.

She decided she needed to calm down when a rose sprouted from her arm. The bud was painful as it grew, and when she pulled it free, she screamed from the burn, and blood poured from the wound.

This is torture, she thought.

She tore off a piece of her gown and wrapped it around her arm as tight as she could before settling on the ground. First, she focused on the sound of the sea rushing the shore below, the feel of the wind against her face, the smell of ash and salt in the air. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deep—filling her lungs with the same smells, with the same wind, with the same sounds until she felt like she was in the ocean herself, rocking back and forth, cradled in warm waves.

The anger and tension and pain broke apart.

For the first time today, she felt calm, collected, clear-headed.

When she opened her eyes, it was dark, and she knew she should head back to the palace before anyone started worrying, but as she got up to leave, she found the path her magic had created was gone.

Still, she thought she could manage on her own, and started in the direction she thought she’d come. She walked for a while before she realized she was lost. Exhausted and unable to teleport, she found a spot beneath a tree and sat, sliding to the ground where she fell asleep.

She was roused by Hades’ warmth. His scent filled her nose as he cradled her close to his chest. She knew when they teleported because the air changed. If she wasn’t so exhausted—so groggy—she would have opened her eyes to see his expression. In fact, she wanted to open her eyes, because her heart needed to see how he was looking at her—but she found she couldn’t.

She was so damn tired.

Why was she so tired?

Hades held her close for a long time before shifting and settled her in a heap of blankets. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and warmth seeped into her skin.

She remembered nothing else.