Persephone’s eyes welled with tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m to blame. I—”

“No!” Hades took a deep breath. “Do not cast aspersions upon yourself. You alone are blameless in all of this. Demeter has fallen further than I had ever imagined.” She gave Persephone’s hand a squeeze, then released it. “Can you stand? We must go.” She hesitated. “If you would accept my help.”

Persephone climbed to her feet, with Hades following suit, watching her carefully as though she thought she might fall. Persephone wasn’t that fragile. “Will you take me back to the underworld?” she asked.

Hades clenched her jaw. “If you would so desire.”

“And if I don’t?”

Hades glanced aside. “I will not compel you.”

Persephone breathed out a sigh. That was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. “I have your word?”

“It is yours.”

Now, after everything, Persephone finally had an inkling of what she wanted—no. What she needed. She had to have them both—Hades and the world above. She would not survive without either of them, not anymore. But now was not the time to voice her thoughts. “Then yes,” she said. “We should go.”

“Why? Hades has not yet enjoyed my hospitality.”

Persephone slowly turned from Hades to see her mother approaching on horseback, her nymphs in tow—only two of them this time. As Demeter drew near, she pulled hard on the reins, and her horse reared, pawing at the air before falling back to the earth with a thump.

Hades moved slightly so that she was standing in front of Persephone. “Demeter,” she said, her hand never far from the hilt of her sword.

“Hades,” Persephone whispered. “My mother, she’s found some kind of weapon, a poison—”

Hades’ fingers briefly entwined with hers, silencing her. Persephone worried at her bottom lip, her eyes only for her mother. Only she knew what Demeter was truly capable of. How low she’d stoop to get her way.

Demeter smiled but did not dismount. She wore no armor, but she had brought her bow and a quiver. The orange glow from the torches held by the nymphs illuminated an almost manic gleam in her eyes. “You’ve come for a fight,” she said, glancing at Hades’ sheathed sword.

“I would prefer to talk,” Hades said. “Like rational adults.”

In the distance, the cellar continued to burn, smoke pouring out into the air. The structure groaned as it collapsed in on itself.

Demeter laughed. “A talker would have approached me for my blessing upon Persephone’s marriage.”

“You would have kept her under your thumb for eternity, given the chance,” Hades said.

“As is my right!”

Persephone stepped forward. “You forfeited all rights to motherhood the first day you brought me to that cellar. I decide my fate now.” She inched closer to Hades. “And I choose to be wed to Hades.”

Hades glanced at her, eyes wide.