“We hunted and climbed mountains. I taught him to use a bow and the lyre. One day, I was teaching him quoit.” Quoit was one of the games played during the Panhellenic Games. It involved throwing a heavy metal disc. “Hyacinth liked to challenge me and wanted to compete. He knew I wouldn’t deny him—or a chance to win. I threw first. I didn’t think about the strength behind the toss. He went to catch the disc, but there was too much power behind my throw, and it bounced off the ground and hit him in the head.”

Apollo’s chest rose with a deep inhale. “I tried to save him. I’m the fucking God of Healing. I should have been able to heal him, but each time my magic worked to close his wound, it opened again. I held him until he died.”

His voice trembled now.

“I hated Hades for a long time after that. I blamed him for what the Fates had taken from me. I blamed him for refusing to let me see him. I…I did some unforgivable things in the aftermath of Hyacinth’s death. It’s why Hades hates me, and honestly, I don’t blame him.”

“Apollo,” Persephone whispered. Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful.”

While this didn’t excuse Apollo’s actions, she understood him a little better. He’d been broken a long, long time ago and since then, he’d been searching for ways to feel whole.

“Another round!” He called to the bartender, who was quick to comply. Apollo handed Persephone a shot.

“Cheers,” he said.

Things were a blur after the last shot. Persephone’s head swam, her words slurred, and everything was funny. She danced with Apollo until her feet hurt, until the lights stung her eyes, until sweat beaded off her skin. When the perspiration turned cold, she suddenly didn’t feel well, and stumbled off the floor, running into something hard.

“Oh, hi Hermes.”

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

She responded by vomiting on the floor.

Her next lucid moment was when she found herself lying on the couch in Apollo’s booth, a blurry Hades cast a shadow over her.

He looked impassive, and that hurt more than she anticipated.

“Why did you call him?” She asked Hermes. “He hates me.”

“Blame Zofie,” Hermes said.

Hades knelt beside her. “Can you stand? I’d rather not carry you out of this place.”

Another blow. She sat up. Hades tried to hand her water, but she pushed it away.

“If you don’t want to be seen with me, why don’t you teleport?”

“If I teleport, you might throw up. I’ve been told you’ve already done that once tonight.”

He didn’t sound pleased.