Neon Gods (Dark Olympus 1)

The elevator ride to the top feels like it takes a thousand lifetimes. It’s been a little over a month since I was here last, since I ran from Zeus and the future he and my mother had mapped out for me without my consent.

It takes more effort than ever to school my expression. I’ve fallen out of the habit with Hades; I feel safe with him, not like I have to lie with my face and words to ensure a smoother path. Yet another reason I love him.

Gods, I love him, and if this goes poorly, I’ll never get a chance to say it aloud. It’s not as if he’s told me he feels the same. We’ve been so very careful to dance around any talk of deeper emotions, but I can’t help thinking about the conversation we had while naming the puppies. He wouldn’t have laid out an alternate future in which we were different people if he wasn’t feeling the same. He wouldn’t call me love. It’s too late to worry about it now. I have to set it aside.

One does not swim with sharks unless they’re able to focus fully on not losing a limb in the process.

I take one last breath as the elevator door opens and square my shoulders. It’s game time.

The room is packed, people dressed in all colors of the rainbow, glittering gowns and elegant tuxedos. Another party in process. It’s almost as if they’ve all been in this room the entire time I was gone, trapped in some warped reality where the party never ends. The clothing is slightly different, the dresses brighter colors tonight than they were last time, but the people are the same. The poisonous atmosphere in the room is the same. Everything is the fucking same.

How can they be partying when there is so much death on the horizon?

Fury snaps in my veins, searing away the last of my nerves and any lingering hesitation. These people might not care about the cost their decisions will have on those who don’t move in their circles, but I do. I stride out of the elevator, my gown slithering around my legs with each step. Every other time I was in this room, I wasn’t able to escape the clear power imbalance. They had it. I didn’t. End of story.

That’s no longer the case.

I am not merely one of Demeter’s daughters. I am Persephone, and I love the king of their dreaded lower city. To them, he might as well be king of the Underworld itself, lord of the dead.

I catch sight of my mother deep in conversation with Aphrodite, their heads bowed as they speak in low voices, and turn in her direction. I make it two steps before a voice booms across the room.

“My bride returns.”

Ice cascades down my spine, but I allow none of it into my expression as I look at Zeus. He’s beaming at me as if he didn’t deliver threat upon threat to drive me back to the upper city. As if I haven’t spent the last five weeks and change sleeping with his enemy.

As if everyone in this room is ignorant of both those truths.

People step aside as I move forward. No, they don’t step aside. They actually trip over themselves to put distance between us and clear my path. I don’t look at them. They’re beneath my notice at this point. Only two people in this room matter now, and I have to deal with Zeus before I can move into my endgame.

I stop just out of reach and sweep a hand over myself. “As you can see, I’ve returned safely.”

“Safe, but not untouched.” He says it low enough only to carry to me, but he grins as if I’ve promised him the world and lifts his voice. “This is a good day indeed. It’s time to celebrate.” He moves quicker than I give him credit for and slings an arm around my waist, holding me too tightly. It’s everything I can do not to flinch. Zeus waves an imperious hand and tightens his hold on me. “Smile for the camera, Persephone.”

I smile easily as a camera flashes, my chest sinking with the knowledge that Hades will see this photo plastered everywhere by morning. I’ll have no opportunity to explain, no chance to tell him that I’m doing this for him, for his people.

Zeus skates his hand over my side, though the corset creates a barrier that gives the impression of keeping him at bay. “You’ve been a bad girl, Persephone.”

I loathe the way he talks to me. As if I’m a child to be corrected, except the lust in his eyes gives lie to that perception. I’ll kill Zeus myself before I let him take me to bed, but saying so now will undermine my goals. So I smile up at him, sunny and sickly sweet. “I think I can be forgiven for a number of things with the proper penance. Don’t you agree?”