“What good is being the God of the Dead if you can’t do anything?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could catch them. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Hades offered a gruff laugh. “You meant it,” he said, and placed his hand on the side of her face, forcing her gaze back to his. When she looked into his eyes, her heart felt like it was going to break into pieces. How was it this immortal god seemed to understand her sorrow? “I know you don’t want to understand why I can’t help, and that’s okay.”

“I just...don’t know what to do,” she said, and her shoulder sagged. She felt defeated.

“Lexa isn’t gone yet,” Hades said. “And yet you mourn her. She may recover.”

“Do you know that for certain? That she will recover?”

“No.”

His eyes were searching, and she wondered what he was looking for. Persephone had come here for hope, for comfort in the knowledge that Lexa would be okay no matter what, and yet Hades wasn’t giving it. She let her head fall against this chest. She was so tired.

After a moment, Hades scooped her up into his arms and teleported to the Underworld.

“Do not fill your thoughts with the possibilities of tomorrow,” he said as he placed her in bed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and everything went dark.

CHAPTER XIII - A TOUCH OF PANIC

CHAPTER XIII - A TOUCH OF PANIC

Persephone woke the next morning with sticky eyes and a headache. Her sleep had been fitful, the events of the day ebbed and flowed, hitting her hard, evoking a burst of sadness and raw emotion, then receding into a kind of numb stupor.

As she sat up, there was a knock at her door, and Hecate poked her head in.

“Good morning, my sweet,” she said. “I’ve brought you some breakfast.”

Something thick had settled at the back of her throat and she thought she might vomit. There was no way she could eat right now, not with the way her stomach churned.

“No thank you, Hecate. I’m not hungry.”

The goddess frowned. “Sit with me for a little while, then. Perhaps you will change your mind.”

“I’m sorry, Hecate. I can’t,” Persephone said, already on her feet. “I need to get to the hospital.”

She checked her phone, but there were no texts from Lexa’s mother or Jaison. She hoped that was a good sign. She hurried into the adjoining bathroom and scrubbed her face. The cold water felt good against her flushed skin.

“You really should eat something,” Hecate said. “It would please Hades.”

It might please Hades, but Persephone was sure she would be sick if she ate.