Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
It is no use with me. I know he is frustrated. I can feel it through the mirror.
“I believe I followed the terms of our agreement,” I state. “She was to rule beside me as queen, and she is more than prepared to do so.”
“You gave her pomegranate seeds. She ate them.”
A smirk lifts my lips up half-heartedly. Hope returning. “Well, yes. Persephone is to be returned to me, so I offered her the pomegranate. All know of what it means to consume the seeds of the Underworld.”
“So you decided to guarantee it for yourself?”
“It was already guaranteed. Wasn’t it?” I ask smoothly, my voice level but my heart racing.
Zeus scowls at me. “That act was not part of the terms.”
“Of course it was. It was implied. You knew that when you arranged for her to be sent to me.”
He looks off to the side and swallows, the cords in his throat tightening. His vulnerability is…curious. What’s his aim? These are the things he wanted. These are the terms he agreed to. It’s true that Demeter’s rage was far stronger than expected, but it is not a reason to violate the laws of the gods.
There are consequences for breaking those rules, even for a god as powerful as Zeus.
I will see to it that he faces them if he has come to tell me he’s changed his mind. Fear causes my heart to race. He cannot. He will not.
“Hades,” he begins, and I know that tone. It is far too light for the tension in his face and the anger in his eyes. This has not played out the way he wanted. It has not gone according to whatever plan he thought would benefit him the most. Now he will be looking for an escape. Some bargain he can make to free him from the terms between us. “You must see how…tenuous the situation has become. You must see—”
“I must see Persephone.”
Zeus sighs. “That is not what I—”
“I wish to see her, to see my queen,” I press, though I do not allow my voice to rise. I keep my words calm, almost flat, so that Zeus will know I am not here to be baited. I’m here to tell him what he can give me. Only a moment. I need to see her. To speak with her. Desperation is unbecoming but if it’s what it takes, I’ll allow it.
“That is not possible,” says Zeus. “I cannot let her return to the Underworld.”
I give him a look. “You do not come to the Underworld to speak to me. Persephone does not need to do that, either. Let me speak to her.” I swallow thickly, knowing the depths of what I ask. “Allow her the scry of Olympus.”
Persephone
The Crossroads Scry is for the god of gods. It’s for my father. For gods with needs and rights to speak with those in liminal spaces and on the other side of the crossroads.
For Hecate. For Hades.
Not for me, but the very thought of Hades, my lover, wanting me? My throat is tight with need to speak to him, and I’m drawn in like a moth to the flame. My heart pains and it hurts me in a way that was there before I knew I’d get to speak to him and yet could not give it attention because the pain is too much to bear.
I need him. My Hades. My king. If for no other reason than to know he still wants me and feels the same as I do.
My gaze is caught by a small figurine made of both copper and silver. It’s a bud and the petals pull back and part allowing a small trinket to be placed inside. Long ago when I was only a child, a mortal witch blessed it to play music when opened as an offering to my mother. She wanted a child of her own and my mother so willingly provided one before the woman could even ask. My mother bestowed the gift upon me, telling me of the greatness it is to be a goddess. To be loved and needed.
All of my life, I saw it as a blessing—until the days my powers withered and then it was a curse. A daily reminder of what I was losing. Picking up the small bud I don’t dare pull the petal back and hear the song. Not until I’ve tested my magic.
I wish I could have taken the prized possession with me to the Underworld. Oh how Silvie would have loved it. Not only that but I could have shared it with Hades. I could have told him how I believed for the longest time the small trinket held my magic.
For the witch was powerful and so was my mother. And I held a piece of both of them forever with the musical bud.