❛THEY WOULD TELL YOU OF A KING WHO STOLE ME HELPLESS FROM MY SUNSHINE GARDEN.❜
They won't tell you about the woman who came to him sublime, lily eyes and lily lips. A king does not ask permission from his prize, but she, oh she, she knelt, kissing m...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FOREST OF THE FURIES, THE UNDERWORLD.
PERSEPHONE
I CRAVED THE QUIET, HUNGRY SILENCE OF THE FOREST LIKE A FIRE CRAVED AIR.
The moss under us was a soft, velvety carpet. I sighed blissfully as my feet sank into the deep, rich earth. It had rained a few hours ago, leaving the soil soft. The forest was alive in a way no god, no human could ever be alive. It was like a bride of spring - wearing a finery of emerald green and shining mysteriously with ancient, untold secrets.
I loved the forest.
I loved the silence of the woods.
I loved the deep, eerie lullaby of Lachesis crooning somewhere in the tower as she worked on her immortal loom.
I loved the metal and the death and the taste of gunpowder on my tongue, the rust and blood under my feet, the bones hidden miles beneath us. I loved the feeling of being in a place where I fit in not like a sore eye, but like a missing piece of a puzzle. I loved the quiet comfort of being home.
I loved the dark, angry grey skies rolling above our heads, reflecting intensely in the eyes of my lover. Clouds of grey and bitter smoke danced in the depths of his gaze, a thunderstorm all on its own. I realised why some storms were named after people.
We had been lucky to catch a break, one day away in paradise away from life at court. The old me would have wanted to go see Asphodel, the Isles of the Blest, the Elysium, but the new me... the new me was different.
Something in me had changed forever when I embraced the touch of death upon my lips, and drowned myself into it headfirst.
And that something in me refused to go back to the way it was before.
That something in me had embraced this new reality.
I inhaled deeply, pulling Hades' cloak tighter around me. Underneath, nothing covered me except for scraps of lace and embroidered silk. There were roses around my feet - dark crimson and inky black roses. My fingers danced lazily, plucking a petal here, cutting a thorn there as Hades lay his head on my lap, his back on the carpet of moss.
He'd been reading poetry.
Now, he just watched me as I absentmindedly toyed with the rose in my hand. His hair was damp, the ends curling like smoke in my lap. I grinned at him before tossing the petals into his hair.
"And now you've ruined my hair," Hades sighed dramatically, plopping the book down on his face.
"Such a shame," I tossed a laugh at him. "How will you ever woo your lady with ruined hair?"
"With my poetry, of course." He raised a dark eyebrow, pretending to look horrified. "Would you like to listen to my musings?"
