Part II
“And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward.”
—HOMER, THE ILIAD
Hades could not describe how it felt to be free of the labyrinth’s hold.
The only thing he had to compare it to was when he’d been thrown up by his father and released from the dark prison of his belly.
But not even this compared, because then, he’d been reborn into battle, and now, he’d been reunited with his queen, and she was all he wanted.
As they teleported, he healed what could be mended, highly aware that the wound at his side was impervious to his magic. He was already imagining what Hecate would say—how Persephone would react.
When they arrived in the Underworld, he kept Persephone close, holding her gaze as he swept a strand of hair behind her ear before tipping her head back for a better look at her face—and access to her mouth.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said in a hushed whisper meant only for the dim glow of their bedroom. His hand tightened at the base of her head, desire igniting in the pit of his stomach.
“I dreamed only of you in the dark of that labyrinth,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. He wanted nothing between them save this sweet tension, but Ariadne cleared her throat, and Persephone responded, breaking this hypnotic hold.
A sliver of frustration shot up his spine. It did not help that he was not particularly pleased with the mortal detective and her previous refusal to help him, especially given the horror in the labyrinth, though he had to admit, he’d like to know what finally convinced her.
“Where is Dionysus?”
“Wherever you left him,” Hades replied.
“Hades,” Persephone chided.
She pulled away, and he was frustrated by the distance.
“I answered the question to the best of my ability,” he said. He did not know where the God of Wine was, and frankly, he did not care. The only thing he wanted to know was how long until he could be alone with Persephone.
“If that was your best, I feel sorry for you, Persephone,” Ariadne said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I am just giving you the same energy you gave me,” Hades replied.
“What is wrong with you two?” Persephone demanded, looking from him to the detective.
“He’s pissed because I refused to give him information on Theseus,” Ariadne said, then she looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I risked Phaedra’s safety once to tell you Theseus’s plans, and you did nothing to help her. What makes you think I would do it again?”
Persephone met his gaze. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, like she was ready to be disappointed.
“Is that true?”
Hades crossed his arms over his chest. This was not at all how he imagined this reunion.
“I said I would help,” he countered. “I never specified when.”
There was a time and a place for everything, and rescuing Phaedra had, unfortunately, fallen further down the list as more and more pressing things came up—like the murder of Adonis, the attacks on Harmonia and Tyche, and the hunting and slaying of the ophiotaurus.
Not to mention, as far as Hades knew, Ariadne’s sister wasn’t interested in being rescued.
“Perhaps you haven’t realized since Phaedra is the center of your world, but there are people who have died by Theseus’s hands while she sits pretty at his side unharmed, so forgive me if she is not my priority.”
Hades did not like the silence that followed or the way Persephone was looking at him, like she was stunned by his harshness, but he did not regret his words even as Ariadne’s eyes reddened.
Fuck.
Maybe he did regret them.
“It’s all right,” Ariadne said. “Dionysus has done what you could not.”
And he would pay for it too.
He bit back his reply, though he was not surprised. The God of Wine was in love with the detective and would do anything for her, consequences be damned, and while Hades could relate to that, he did not trust that Ariadne was as invested.
Hades turned away from the two. If he lingered, he was going to say something else he regretted. He crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink, surprised by how strong the amber liquid smelled. It was warm and sweet, and it burned his nose. He placed the glass to his dry lips, his mouth salivating at the thought of taking a single sip, but then he heard Persephone speak.
“I’ll have Hermes—” She paused. “Never mind. I’ll take you to Dionysus.”
“No,” said Hades. He set the glass down and turned to face them. “Hermes is more than capable of seeing her home.”
Persephone’s gaze was hard.
“Zeus stripped him of his powers—him, Apollo, and Aphrodite—for fighting alongside us,” she said. “So no, he isn’t.”
Hades clenched his jaw. He had suspected Zeus would retaliate for what had happened outside Thebes. His rule had been challenged, and the other gods had watched as Persephone turned his magic against him and shot him from the sky.
Now Zeus had to remind everyone of his power and strength, but he could only strip his offspring of powers, not Hades or Persephone.
He wondered what the King of the Skies had planned for them.
Fuck.
He looked at Ariadne, who was covered in blood. She had scratches on every exposed part of her body and a large gash on her chest.
“I’ll take her,” he said. “But she must be healed first. I don’t want to hear Dionysus fret.”
“You mean the same way you fret over me?” Persephone asked, arching a brow.
He could feel her disapproval. He was definitely going to hear about this when he returned. Except that he didn’t really care so long as they were alone.
Persephone turned away from him and placed her hands on Ariadne’s shoulders. She was new to healing, and he wasn’t aware that she had ever healed anyone but herself, so he was curious to watch her now.
When her magic ignited, it felt like the warm rays of the spring sun, and beneath it, he let go of the anger and tension that had tightened his muscles and fueled his frustration. Ariadne too seemed to relax as Persephone’s power took effect, healing the gash on her chest, the scratches on her arms, and whatever unseen injuries she’d sustained while in the labyrinth.
When Persephone was finished, she dropped her hands and held the detective’s gaze.
“Thank you for leading me through the labyrinth,” she said. “I couldn’t have done that on my own.”
Ariadne offered her a small smile. “Yeah, you could have,” she said, glancing darkly at Hades even as she added, “Sometimes our love forces us to do extraordinary things.”
That was the first time he’d ever agreed with anything the mortal said.
Hades approached Persephone, and he was glad when she turned to him. He framed her face with his hands, threading his fingers into her hair.
“I will not be long,” he said and kissed her hard and deep. His heart raced as she responded beneath him, her fingers digging into his skin. It felt dramatic to say, but he did not wish to let her go even if it was only for a few minutes.
When he released her, he was warm and aroused.
He considered teleporting Ariadne away without escort, but he knew Persephone would not approve. Besides, it was likely not the safest thing, especially in the aftermath of their escape from the labyrinth.
Or, apparently, Phaedra’s rescue.
“Wait here,” he said.
He did not want to have to go looking for her when he returned. He stepped away, holding her gaze as he turned toward Ariadne and reached for her with his magic. Simultaneously, he sought Dionysus and found him in his suite at Bakkheia.
Hades wasn’t sure what he expected when they arrived, but it certainly wasn’t Dionysus passed out in a chair wearing the skin of some old white man dressed like a doctor—except that was exactly what they found.
Ariadne’s brows lowered.
“Are you sure you brought us to the right place?” she asked, looking around, but it was definitely the right place, and this was definitely the right god.
He kicked Dionysus’s foot, and the god startled awake.
“What?” he snapped as he sat up in the chair, glaring at Hades, but his anger quickly melted into a strange mix of anticipation and fear. He gripped the arms of his chair and stood, pulling off the net covering his hair. He didn’t seem to realize he wasn’t his usual self. “Where is Ariadne?”
“She’s here,” Hades said, stepping aside so that the God of the Vine had a clear view of his beloved mortal.
“Ari,” Dionysus breathed as he took a step toward her, but her eyes widened and she took one back.
“What’s going on here?” Ariadne asked, looking from Dionysus to Hades.
For a moment, Dionysus looked confused, and then he glanced down at himself.
“Oh fuck,” he said as he shifted into his true form.
Ariadne’s mouth fell open.
“You didn’t know?” Hades asked. “Your boyfriend here is a shape-shifter.”
“Sorry,” said Dionysus, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed embarrassed. “It’s been a long day.”
“Where is my sister?” Ariadne asked.
Dionysus’s mouth tightened. Hades guessed that this was not how Dionysus hoped their reunion would go.
“I took her to my home,” Dionysus said. “I thought that would be best for her and the baby.”
“Baby?” Ariadne said.
“Baby?” Hades asked.
“What baby?” Ariadne demanded.
“Your sister is pregnant,” said Dionysus. “Was pregnant. She gave birth today.”
Ariadne just stared at him with her mouth ajar.
Dionysus must have hated the silence because he continued, “Congratulations. Today, you became an aunt.”
“You took Theseus’s wife and his child?” Hades asked.
Fuck, this wasn’t good.
“I didn’t know there was a child until it was too late,” said Dionysus.
“Did she give birth at your house?” he said.
“No—”
“Then it wasn’t too late!” Hades roared.
“Don’t yell at him!” Ariadne said, stepping between him and Dionysus. “He did it for me!”
Hades’s eyes fell to her, and whatever she saw made her take a step back.
“You think I don’t know that?” Hades seethed. “You think I don’t know that everything you’ve ever done has been for your own selfish gain?”
“Careful, Hades,” Dionysus warned.
“Theseus will come for his wife, his child, and for you, and while you will suffer, it will be nothing compared to those who sheltered you.” Hades felt his darkness crowding the room as he spoke, but his gaze did not waver from Ariadne’s stricken face. “You thought you knew pain? You thought you knew guilt? You are about to know the agony of living with the blood of innocent people on your hands.” Hades straightened and looked at Dionysus, whose eyes were dark with rage. “You had better hope I am wrong,” he said before he vanished.
