Goddess of the Underworld. Aimee Carter

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      “You’re nervous,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t wait for me to answer. “I am, too.”

      I scoffed. “You’re King of the Underworld. What do you possibly have to be nervous about?”

      He hesitated, brushing his thumb against my knuckles. The gesture was almost intimate in its simplicity, and a shiver ran through me. “I am nervous that I cannot give you everything you deserve.”

      “What do you mean?”

      He squeezed my hands. “You could do so many things with your existence, yet you are down here with me. I cannot tell you what that means to me. No one …” He paused, and the cords in his neck stood out. “No one has chosen me before, not because of who I am. Not for pure reasons. That you are willing to try is everything I have never had before.”

      Warmth filled me, and I inched closer to him. It wasn’t so hard to see his life through his eyes, all those eons of loneliness. “I’m going to try,” I promised. “I want—I want to be with you.”

      I wasn’t sure I did, really, but I also wasn’t sure I didn’t. I would’ve liked the choice, but that had always been out of my control. This—the here and now, how good we were together, that was at least half in my control. And knowing Hades was willing to try to make this work made all the difference.

      “I know that this marriage will take time to settle for both of us, but we will grow together. We will learn together,” he said, raising my hand to his lips.

      Yes, we would. Underneath his piercing gaze, I relaxed. It would be all right. Mother knew what she was doing, and she would’ve never married me off to Hades if she wasn’t absolutely sure we would work. But even as I thought it, I grew painfully aware of the stone surrounding me. No matter how I felt about it, I was still trapped down here. Fooling myself into being happy wouldn’t change that. It wouldn’t give me my choice and freedom back.

      I straightened and took a deep breath. Yes, it would. Happiness was a choice, exactly as Mother had said. And this was a choice I could make.

      I didn’t ask. I didn’t hesitate. Instead I leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, the kind of kiss I’d never given anyone before. The kind of kiss Aphrodite gave to Hephaestus. The kind of kiss I wanted Hades to give to me.

      It was warm and wet and not what I expected, not at all. It didn’t sizzle or sparkle or make me love him. It didn’t open up a whole new world of possibilities. It was just that—lips against lips, a soft mouth against my own. And to make matters worse, Hades didn’t kiss me back.

      I opened my eyes. His were open as well, cloudy with questions, but I didn’t give him the chance to speak. I knew what he would say if I did—was I sure I wanted to do this now? Did I want to wait until we knew each other better?

      But I wanted that love. I needed that love to make the rock melt away, to make everything not so bad. And if I could make myself love him as much as he loved me … maybe it would all be okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be a prison.

      So I kept kissing him. My hands fumbled down his front, pushing away his clothes and brushing against his warm skin. I could do this. I would do this, and once we were together in the most intimate way possible, it would all click. We would be happy, and it wouldn’t be an illusion. It would be my choice.

      As I drew him down onto the bed, however, he broke away. “Persephone—”

      “Don’t,” I said. “Please.”

      His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he fell silent. I kissed him again, pulling him as close to me as possible. I’d never had someone pressed against me like this before, and his body was solid, weightier than I’d expected. Not that I’d expected much, but it still felt foreign.

      I didn’t let myself stop. Soon enough we were both completely undressed, and as he settled over me, I pushed away every last shred of fear that haunted me. We were doing this together, and no matter how exposed and terrified I was, lying there in his bed, I would not back down.

      One night of swallowing my fears, one night of being with him like this, and that wisp of love would turn into a howling storm. I just needed to get through tonight.

      “Do it,” I whispered, and when he opened his mouth again, undoubtedly to protest, I silenced him with a burning kiss.

      Everything would be fine. Better than fine.

      It had to be.

      It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t even close to fine.

      Our bodies didn’t fit. Maybe it was my virginity, or maybe he was unnaturally blessed, but whatever it was, it was hot, sticky, uncomfortable, awkward, everything it wasn’t supposed to be. And had I not been immortal, I was sure it would’ve been one of the most painful experiences of my life.

      To make matters worse, he didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, either, and we both fumbled through it. It might’ve been intimate, but it wasn’t sexy or loving. It was all physical, nothing emotional, and by the time it was over, I was struggling to hold back tears.

      Hades rolled off me, his chest heaving. As his eyes searched mine, his brow furrowed, and he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

      I shook my head, too close to breaking down to speak. It wasn’t his fault. I’d been the one to pressure him into this, to force us both before we were ready. But the part of me drowning in anger and disappointment blamed him. He could’ve done what I hadn’t had the courage to do and walked away. He could’ve said no to my father when he’d suggested this marriage to begin with.

      “It will get better,” he whispered. “I love you.”

      Silence surrounded us, and I knew without asking that he was waiting for me to say it back. To offer him one small affirmation that this wasn’t a complete disaster. But it was, and a tear slid down my face, too fast for me to catch it.

      In the glow of the candlelight, Hades’s expression crumbled. He knew what my silence meant, and for a moment, he seemed to fold into himself. His shoulders hunched and his head bowed, and his fingers dug into the sheets. I didn’t offer him any comfort. I couldn’t. I’d only be lying to us both.

      At last Hades came to life and pulled a silk blanket up to cover me. He didn’t try to touch me, though he did watch me for a long moment. I turned away. I didn’t want his guilt as well as mine.

      Eventually the candles burned out, or maybe Hades extinguished them. Either way, in the darkness, the rock weighed down even heavier around me, and I could barely breathe.

      I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be here with a man I didn’t love. Married or not, his queen or not, I was a person, not an object, and my parents had had no right to do this to me in the first place. But here we were, both of us victims, both of us painfully aware of the wall between us now. It hadn’t been there before the wedding, but now, because of me, because of my parents …

      I didn’t sleep, and judging from Hades’s breathing, neither did he. At last, when it was time to get up—how Hades could tell without the sun, I had no idea—I waited until he dressed and disappeared before I got out of bed and bathed. I had two options: I could stick around and accept my fate, or I could fight for my freedom.

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