She didn’t know how, but she would. Demetri had given her two options—apologizing or interviewing a recent victim. Those might be shit options, but maybe the other seven would be willing to talk to her.

Hades shut her down.

“You can’t and you won’t.”

Persephone lifted her chin, glaring at the King of the Dead. She attempted to teleport, but nothing happened. Her rage bubbled under the surface of her skin.

“You can’t keep me here.”

A carpet of vines spread from her feet toward Hades. He offered a dark laugh and the corner of his mouth lifted in an arrogant smirk.

“Darling, you are in my realm. You’re here until I say otherwise.”

“Hades!”

He kept walking and she wanted him to hurt because she really didn’t think he felt anything in this. That was when great, black thorns burst from the tile floor, moving for Hades like venomous snakes.

But the God of the Underworld just waved his hand and the thorns turned to ash.

He’d done it so easily, so quickly.

Which meant all those times she’d used her magic against him, he’d just…let her. The reality of her weakness was harsh in the face of his indifference, and she suddenly felt unsteady on her feet.

As he went to close the door behind him, she called out in a cracked voice, “You will regret this!”

“I already do,” he said, and there was a note to his voice that sounded like grief.

CHAPTER IX - A TOUCH OF POISON

CHAPTER IX - A TOUCH OF POISON

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.