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“I am Persephone, future Queen of the Underworld, Lady of Your Fate. May you come to dread my presence.”
This…it went beyond love. It was devotion. It was worship. It was the power that began and ended worlds, and if he had to, he would do so in her name.
“No one is deserving of my presence,” she said. “I am a plague upon men.”
“Do not pretend Persephone does not know who she has chosen to love,” Hecate said. “She sees all of you. She is the Goddess of Spring after all. She is used to life and death.”
“Oh, darling, but I have told you before—for you, I would destroy this world.”
Hermes grinned. “See you soon, Daddy Death!”
He vanished, and when he was gone, Hades looked at Thanatos, who asked in a very serious tone, “Which one of us do you think he was calling Daddy Death?”
“I never thought I’d thank the Fates for anything they gave me, but you—you were worth all of it.” “All of what?” “The suffering.”
There was no man in the world who would claim such a thing; only women were taught their pain was never enough.
“Hades and Persephone,” the oracle repeated, as if testing their names on her tongue. “A powerful union—a marriage that will produce a god more powerful than Zeus himself.”
