For the Love of Hades (Loves of Olympus 2)

Hades stepped forward, between her and Poseidon. “And yet Thessaly, Erysichthon and his people, Persephone and Demeter have suffered, because of you.”

It should not please her so, to see him defend her, to see him stand up to his horrible brother. But it did. She felt a smile rise up within her. Only the memory of Hades’ warning kept it from her lips.

“I see no reason why she should forgive him.” A woman, a warrior, approached. The look she sent Poseidon removed any doubt; this was Athena. She was bigger than Persephone imagined, taller and well muscled. That she was a fighter was no surprise. That she was lovely, was. Her light brown eyes flashed as she continued, “He’s done little to earn it. I applaud your choice, Persephone. Do not forgive him.”

“Will there ever be peace on Olympus?” Zeus asked, his tone low.

“Peace?” She heard Hades whisper, saw him glance at her. His jaw hardened as he tore his gaze from her. “At what cost?”

“Forgive him or not, daughter. It is your choice and one you’ve the right to make on your own.” Demeter moved forward, taking Hades’ hands in hers. “But you, Hades, I would give you some reward for caring for my daughter. I can never repay you for that, never. But I would try. Please, Hades, there must be something you desire?”

Hermes cleared his throat, causing all eyes to turn upon him. He smiled, wiping a hand across his face. “Sorry.”

Aphrodite came forward, the picture of grace and beauty. Her blond curls swayed about her hips as she joined Demeter. “Surely, there’s something that might ease your loneliness?”

Persephone remembered the Goddess’ visit. And heard the Goddess’ words. She felt the urge to cry once more. This would not end well.

“What say you, Persephone?” Aphrodite turned to her. “You were with him, in his realm. He cannot be happy there. What might make his realm more comfortable?”

She stared at the ground.

Every detail, every memory flooded her. The feel of the furs on his bed, the strength of his arms, the smell of his skin, the rich tone of his laughter, the scent of his soap, and the caress of his hand upon her… She blinked, suddenly warm. She shook her head, feeling the world tilt… go fuzzy… then black.

Chapter Eighteen

“What say you, Persephone?” Aphrodite spoke. “You were with him, in his realm. What might make his realm more comfortable?”

He looked at her, saw the rose fade from her cheeks and the tremor of her chin. She swayed on her feet and then crumpled to the floor. He stepped forward, anxious, his arms instantly reaching for her.

Zeus’ hand gripped his shoulder, holding him in place. Hades did not pull free from his brother’s grasp, but glared at him. And Zeus stared back. With a slight shake of his head, he spoke volumes. Hades went rigid, assessing those around him. None but Zeus was aware of his misstep, none but Zeus saw his anxiety… and pain.

It was Hermes who caught her. Hermes who cradled her against his chest. Hermes who frowned at him, looking disappointed.

She looked so pale and small in his arms.

Hermes carried her, following Demeter from the room and taking her away from him.

“Come now, Hades.” Hera regarded him with her luminous brown eyes. Her full lips parted in a sincere smile. “We are all eager to show our appreciation to you. You’ve done so much of late.”

He glanced at Hera. “Out of duty.” Which was true, somewhat. He stared after Persephone, holding himself rigid. She was gone from him, no longer his concern… But Poseidon’s pale blue eyes were also fixed upon the door, the door Persephone had gone through, and a roar of fury filled his ears.

He clenched his fists, his hatred too near the surface for his liking. His tone was hard. “I need no payment.”

Poseidon laughed. “You astound me, brother. Twice now you’ve turned from immeasurable pleasures. I begin to think you’ve befriended Hephaestus in his fiery workshop.”

And still his fury raged.

Zeus shook his head. “You are my brothers. I remember a time when we stood together, as one, against our enemies. Have we truly fallen so far? That we would look upon one another with such malice?” He looked at Hades, then Poseidon. “With ill intent? Are we no better than those we overthrew? Are we doomed to follow their example?”

“I make an observation and am slandered with ill intent?” Poseidon scoffed.

“I will not deny malice on my part.” Hades’ words were biting. One day, Poseidon would be caught by a net of his own making. If there was any justice left, he would see it.

Zeus regarded Poseidon, his frustration plain. “Brother…”

“It is his nature, Father,” Athena said. “He is only content when wounding others.”

“Athena.” Poseidon smiled. “Pity your tongue is only skilled with making words…”