“Wh-where am I going?” It was the first time Lexa looked uncertain since she arrived.

Thanatos looked to Hades, who explained, “You will drink from the Lethe,” he said. “And then Thanatos will take you to Elysium to heal.”

For so long, Persephone had tried to imagine a world where Lexa didn’t exist, and now she realized this was it, this was the beginning of that world.

“I will visit you every day,” she promised. “Until we are best friends again.”

“I know,” Lexa’s voice cracked. Persephone closed her eyes, trying to memorize the feel of her best friend’s hugs, the warmth of her, the feel of her hands digging into her back.

“I love you,” Persephone whispered.

“I love you, too.”

When they parted, Thanatos took Lexa’s hand, and she watched as they walked the stone path toward the Lethe. At some point, she and Hades returned to the palace. He encouraged her to rest, and she did, falling into the comfort of Hades’ bed.

When she woke, she hadn’t remembered falling asleep. She rose, exhausted, and went in search of Hades. She found him standing in front of the fire in his study. He stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight reflecting off his face, making him look serious and severe. He seemed deep in thought, but as she entered the room, he stiffened.

Guilt slammed into her, and she knew he was waiting for her anger, for her blame.

“Are you well?” she asked when he didn’t turn to her.

“Yes,” he said. “And you?”

“Yes,” she said, and it was true. She was better, despite knowing that Lexa was dead, despite knowing that she had drank from the Lethe.

She was going to be fine.

Persephone stepped closer to him.

“Hades,” she waited for him to face her. “Thank you for today.”

He offered a small smile and returned his gaze to the fire. “It was nothing.”

She reached for him, placing her hand on his arm. His gaze fell there first, and then met hers. “It was everything.”

He turned to her fully and their lips collided. They kissed for a while and soon Hades drew her to the floor, entering her in one, smooth, purposeful movement.

“You were right,” Persephone whispered. She was referring to Lexa’s end. Her breath catching in her throat; her fingers twined into his hair.

“I did not want to be right.”

“I should have listened,” she said, and moaned as a wave of pleasure rocked through her.

“Shh,” Hades quieted her. “No more talk of what you should have done. What is, is—there is nothing else to be done but move forward.”

As the first orgasm shook her body, Hades gripped her hard. “My queen,” he hissed.

“Hades,” she moaned his name.

They reveled in the feel of each other, deepening their connection before collapsing together in a heap of skin and sweat and sex.