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)
With the mention of balance, I sit up straighter.
“Mother,” I say, when she falls into silence. “That is what I want to talk to you about.”
“The garden beds?” she whispers, nearly mocking me with her head tilted. Sadness still lingers in her gaze.
“Balance.”
Her lower lip trembles. “Persephone. You cannot mean to leave me for the Underworld.” Her words are a hushed whisper dosed in fear.
“Please listen,” I start.
“I cannot hear you say goodbye for the last time.”
“I won’t.” I’m quick to cut her off as tears threaten to spill from her tortured gaze. “What I mean is that the realms need balance.” I look into her eyes, keeping my expression calm. “The souls in the Underworld cry out for it. The mortals on Earth cry out for it as well.”
“There is already balance,” she argues.
“But the realms will not be healed until there is true balance, Hecate has told me.”
“What more do they need?” Her eyes narrow, and her face, which had cooled once we were out of the sun, goes pink. “I have not kept anything from the mortals this time, and you cannot accuse me of causing harm to the souls of the Underworld. They followed the path they were meant to take.”
“Of course I do not, Mother. You could not have harmed any soul in the Underworld. You would not.”
“I would not!” she cries, and I hold her hand until she catches her breath. “I would not,” she says, softer, though we both know what she did when she could not find me. She would cause harm to the mortal realm. Mothers would do unfathomable things for their daughters. I know this to be true. I know, in my own heart, that I would do the same for a daughter of mine, and more. “What are you asking of me?” she questions.
As my throat tightens, I take a deep breath and meet her eyes. “Only that you let me go.”
She waits for me to say more. When she realizes that is my only request, she blinks as if she is just waking up.
“Go to the Underworld?” she says, her voice wobbling between flat and breathless. “You know I will do anything to stop those who wish to take you to the Underworld to never be heard from again.”
“No—that is not what I mean. I do not mean for you to let someone take me there. I am asking that you let me go there, to be—”
“To be with Hades?” She is horrified. I can see that in her eyes. “The man who stole you away?”
“Think about it, Mother. For a moment. The events that unfolded. Think about what happened with the wine.”
My mother’s eyes go dark with anger. “If Zeus has poisoned you again…if he has poisoned your mind—”
“He hasn’t,” I say quickly, then reach for her hands once again. She’s distraught and on edge. The trauma clouds her judgment. “Mother, he has not. But he did. He poisoned me. He tried to take my powers from me and make me into a mortal. That was not because of Hades. If it is anyone’s fault that I was in that position, it was Zeus’s.”
“Then it is Zeus who should pay for what he has done!” My mother tries to stand, but I keep her with me. “It is Zeus who should suffer my wrath.”
“He has power over this realm, and the gods and goddesses here. He has power over the mortal realm as well. He is god of the gods. But he did not destroy me and he cannot. He will not and he should know that now.”
My mother softens, reaching out to stroke my hair. “Because you were born with such powers, Persephone. Because of the prophecy.” My mother purses her lips. “That he would be eclipsed by one of his children. That they would grow stronger.”
This realization seems to make time stop. Even my heart pauses beating. Fear? My father poisoned me out of fear of my powers? As if I would use them against him! I would never have done such a thing. I had no reason to think I was in danger on Olympus. I thought he would be disappointed to learn that I could not find the powers that had been foretold. I thought he would want more for me.
His fault is his ego. It always has been and always will be.
The realms will never be the same to me now. I saw my father as powerful, and he does indeed have power over the gods and goddesses of Olympus and over the mortals.
His powers have not protected him from his fears. He thinks one of his children will surpass him, and he cannot stand the thought.
It made him poison me.
The rage I thought I let go emerges once again, but I breathe deeply for the sake of my mother. “I am not his only child.”