A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone 2)

Persephone looked at her best friend, surprised she would side with the God of the Dead.

“I mean, do you really think you can touch Apollo’s reputation? He’s the Golden Boy of New Athens.”

“An honor he doesn’t deserve considering how he treats the men and women he ‘loves.’”

“But...what if people don’t believe you, Persephone?”

“I can’t worry about whether or not people will believe me, Lex.”

The thought that Apollo’s victims would be ignored because of his

popularity infuriated her, but what enraged her more was that she knew Lexa was right, there was a chance no one would believe her.

“I know. I’m just saying...it might not play out like you think.”

Persephone frowned, confused by her friend’s words. “And what do I think?”

Lexa twisted her fingers together on the table in front of her and shrugged, finally lifting her gaze to Persephone’s. Her eyes looked more vivid today, probably due to the smokey shadow she wore.

“I don’t know. I mean, you are literally hoping for reason from a god who can’t take rejection. It’s like you think you can magically change Apollo’s behavior with some words.”

Persephone flinched, and noticed that Lexa’s eyes shifted to Persephone’s shoulder. In her peripheral, she saw green, and when she looked, a thread of vines had sprouted out of her skin. Persephone clapped a hand over them. Of all the times her magic had responded to her emotions, it had never manifested liked this. She pulled the vines free and blood spilled down her arm.

“Oh, my gods!” Lexa shoved a wad of napkins into her hands and Persephone pressed them against her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

“No,” she said, peeling back the napkins to look at the wound the vines left behind. The gash was small, like she’d been scratched by a throne and the bleeding minimal.

“Is that a goddess thing?” Lexa asked.

“I don’t know.”

She’d never seen her mother’s powers manifest this way, or Hades’ for that matter. Maybe it was just another example of how terrible she was at being a goddess.

“Will you tell Hades?”

The question surprised Persephone, and her gaze shot to Lexa’s. “Why would I tell him?”

She listed the reasons, “Because it’s never happened to you before, because it looks painful, because it might have something to do with being the Goddess of Spring?”

“Or it’s nothing,” Persephone said quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Lex.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Lexa reached a hand across the table to draw Persephone’s attention.

“You know I’m just worried about you, right?

The Goddess of Spring sighed. “I know. Thank you.”

There was more silence and then Lexa shrugged. “I guess none of this really matters. You already promised Hades you wouldn’t write about Apollo...right?”

Persephone was reluctant to meet Lexa’s gaze.

“Persephone—”

“What about Sybil? Are we just supposed to let her suffer?” Persephone asked.