Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy)

Persephone

An overwhelming sense of joy floods through me as I run my fingers over the long swaying grass in the Elysian Fields. Hades assured me that there was actually a city several miles away, but visiting the city would be a different trip for a different day.

The sunlight bleeds through my pores, spreading through my entire body. It’s like an infection I want to keep eternally. I turn, letting a gust of wind tousle my hair as a light floral smell creeps up my nostrils. I inhale deeply as freesia and daffodils invade my nose and remind me of a meadow behind my house back in Oregon. The enticing scent—for some odd reason—reminds me of the day Hades took me.

Thinking of Hades has me wondering something; where is he? I haven’t seen him since he brought me here and I’m both hurt and angry that he isn’t here sharing this beautiful scene with me. Pivoting, I scan the field. He’s not even lingering off to the side somewhere watching me like he usually is. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air—another one of his annoying parlor tricks. I sprint through the field and call out for him, “Hades!” I push aside plants, look under rocks, search behind a slew of the various trees, but can’t find him anywhere.

I run harder and faster, desperate to find him. When Hades first took me, I swore to the God’s that I would loathe him for the rest of my immortal life. But things have changed. My feelings for him have changed. Now I miss him when he’s not around. I want to be near him at all times. I’m finally able to look past his cold demeanor and find warmth in him. His smile makes me want to smile. His icy touch makes me shiver in a good way and I want him to hold me, touch me, and kiss me. I want to be wrapped in his arms for the rest of eternity and that could only mean one thing: I think I might be in love with him.

I know what he is; the pied piper of death and depravity, playing his flute as an army of the dead trails behind him. I’m in that army marching in line and I will follow him anywhere.

I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not one hundred percent sure how to classify the way I feel about Hades, but it has to be love. It just has to be. The incessant longing, and fire smoldering inside of me like the crackling embers in a fireplace has to be love.

On the boat earlier, was the first time I recognized a growing adoration for him. Right after he caught me and saved me from falling over the edge. Gazing into his eyes, I knew that I couldn’t leave this underworld without him. I won’t leave this world without him.

Panic hits me l

ike a marble column. I still can’t find him and he’s not answering me when I call out for him. I’ve been running for what feels like years and there is no sign of him. Tears swell in my eyes and a gaping hole burrows into my heart. The hole stretches and expands like a black abyss and suddenly I feel like I can’t breathe. Why would he leave me out here all alone when he knew I’d enjoy it so much? Wouldn’t he want to share this blissful experience with me? Looking over my shoulder, I pick up speed, charging forward and smack into what feels like a wall. I hit the wall hard and fall backward onto the ground.

A gentle breeze whips around me and the sunlight burns into my eyes, blinding me. For the first time ever, in my immortal life I loathe the sun. I loathe it because I can’t see what I ran into. I squint as my eyes adjust to the light and a hand appears inches away from my face. Taking the hand, I hoist myself to my feet and Hades stands in front of me, eyeing me oddly. He’s curious, but his look softens when he gazes into my eyes and a nervous tingle flutters around in the pit of my stomach. My cheeks burn from the sun and from anxiety and I’m not sure how to speak to him. Somehow everything about him felt better when I was thinking and not acting on my feelings. It was also easier when I disliked him. Now all I can do is gawk. All I can do is stand here gazing at him adoringly like a lovesick fool.

All of a sudden a volt of anger snaps through my like a loose wire. Why do I always have to be the one who’s speaking her mind? I’m sick of doing all the talking. Why can’t he just open up to me? Why can’t he just tell me how he feels?

“You should watch where you’re going?” he says in a somber tone.

“I’m sorry for running into you,” I manage, trying to keep calm.

“It’s fine,” he booms. His voice is seductive, deep and beautiful. “What exactly were you doing?”

The comment makes me snap back to reality. “Excuse me?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Were you looking for something?”

Yes, you. That’s what I really want to say. Instead, I put on a bright smile and lie. “I was just enjoying the sunshine.”

I’m not sure if he can tell whether I was being truthful or not. Then a tiny smile spreads across his lips. “I’m glad you like it here.” He turns abruptly and walks in the opposite direction.

Where is he going? An instant pain shoots through my heart. “Don’t leave,” I utter, softly. I don’t know if he heard me, but at this point I don’t care.

He stops, his back still facing me, and peers casually over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”

“Yes. I said don’t leave.” I can’t lie anymore. I can’t pretend that I want to go back to earth when I care for him so much more than the sun in the sky, the flowers growing in fields and the smell of clean air. I step toward him and brush my fingers over his shoulder. “Why are you leaving?”

His reaction to my touch startles me. His entire body stiffens. Then he turns and faces me. “I just thought this would be something you’d like to enjoy alone. I know how much you miss the earth and the sun,” he tells me.

But he’s wrong. I’d much rather enjoy all of this with him. “Why don’t you stay out here and enjoy this with me?”

He remains in his spot and doesn’t move. Secretly, I wish he would have jumped at the opportunity to spend the day with me, but he’s doing the exact opposite and it hurts. His actions cut deep like a butcher knife through the shoulder blade. I touch him again and he jumps. He’s acting like my touch repulses him and I don’t understand. He’s so hot and cold. One minute I think he feels the same way about me and the next he’s doing what he’s doing now. “Why would you bring me out here if you didn’t want to share it with me?”

Now I am determined to get to the bottom of this. Why in the name of the God’s did he take me if he’s spurned by my touch? And what about yesterday? Yesterday was beautiful. Yesterday was perfect. How could he go from that to this? He doesn’t answer my question. I stare at him, crossing my arms. “Well?”

He still doesn’t answer.

He’s obviously distracted. He’s somewhere else and from the look in his eye I can tell he wants to be anywhere, but here—with me. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I suck them back and lower my voice. “Give me an answer.”

He gives me a vague answer. “I thought you would enjoy it.” He’s not even looking at me. He’s staring past me at the swaying grass in the open field.

A mixture of emotions swirl around inside of me and I know it’s only a matter of time before anger becomes the front-runner. I don’t want to be here anymore. The home-like feeling has vanished. The want of feeling the sun against my skin has vanished. I need to get out of here before this turns into a screaming match and I say thing I know I’ll regret. “Take me back.”