The Goddess Legacy
Page 59
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
He grinned, and she blew him a kiss. A moment later, she disappeared, and Adonis stared at the spot where she’d last stood. He had a wistful look on his face, as if he were thinking about a future he could never have. And if he were really mortal, then he was right. He couldn’t.
Before I could stop and think, I slipped through the barrier between us, and I arrived on the beach in exactly the spot where Aphrodite had stood. Adonis’s eyes widened, and he blinked several times.
“Who are you?” he said, but he didn’t step back. That was something.
“Persephone,” I said. “I didn’t mean to barge in—”
“Persephone? Queen of the Dead?” he said, and now he did stumble backward. Damn. “Am I dying? Am I to be punished for being with the goddess of love herself?”
I snorted. “Please. If every man she slept with died because of it, there’d be no men left in the world. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to carry you off to the Underworld or anything.” Though he had the good sense to fear it, at least. “I just…”
What was I supposed to say? That I’d been spying on him and Aphrodite? That he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen? That I saw my future in his smile, that light and warmth and heart—that I wanted a piece of that happiness, no matter how small?
Oh, please. Love at first sight was the sort of thing Aphrodite believed, not me. I should’ve never come.
But the thought of returning to the Underworld and leaving him behind made my shriveled heart twitch in protest. He was a stranger, but at the same time, when I looked at him, I saw the familiar. I saw everything I’d ever wanted in those blue eyes, and I couldn’t tear myself away.
“You just what?” he said, his voice gentler now, as if he could feel whatever drew me toward him, as well. Maybe he could. Maybe this was another one of Aphrodite’s tricks, designed to humiliate me in front of everyone.
I needed to go. Or come up with a better excuse that had nothing to do with the truth. I took a breath, weighing my options. Not much of a choice. I could no sooner leave him than I could throw myself into the bottomless pit of Tartarus. “You looked—lonely, that’s all. I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared.”
He eyed me, and as the sky turned from rainbow to purple, he relaxed. “It takes loneliness in oneself to recognize it in another.”
“Yes, well. I don’t exactly have a whole host of people in the Underworld begging to come to my parties,” I said wryly.
That got a smile out of him, and it was just as beautiful as the ones he’d given Aphrodite. Maybe even more so, now that this one was meant for me. “I am Adonis,” he said, stepping forward. Though he hesitated, he took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “I am afraid I do not know the proper protocol for addressing royalty.”
“This isn’t my realm,” I said, “and right now, I’m not the queen of anything. I’m just Persephone.”
That was technically a lie; I still had a month to go before spring, but Adonis didn’t need to know that. “Well, just Persephone, it is the greatest pleasure and honor of my humble existence to set eyes on a creature as beautiful as you.”
I blushed. “Please. I know you’ve seen Aphrodite.”
“And yet I speak the truth.”
No wonder Aphrodite liked him. He could probably talk his way out of the Underworld. “Do you live here?” I said, and he nodded.
“Aphrodite brought me here to keep me safe,” he said. “Though safe from what, I’m afraid I do not know.”
I did. One look at Adonis, and it was obvious Aphrodite was worried someone else would claim him for their own. “What about your home? Your family?”
He shrugged and took my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I have none.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Adonis shook his head, and his blond curls fell into his eyes. “Don’t be. All the more time to spend with you. Do goddesses eat? Might I interest you in dinner?”
I should’ve said no. Hades would miss me before long, and I’d promised myself I would never betray him again. But Adonis made me feel as if I was flying—one look, one smile, and that was enough to wash all of the bad away. This was what I’d missed since Hermes. This was what I’d craved. And no matter how much I loved him, Hermes was nothing compared to Adonis.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I have time for dinner.”
He beamed and brushed his lips against my cheek. The spot where he’d touched me seemed to sear itself into my skin, and as he led me toward the edge of the woods, I hugged his arm. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one evening with Hades. I’d make it up to him, stay an extra day after the spring equinox or something. But nothing, not even my soul-crushing guilt, could make me walk away from Adonis.
* * *
Each evening, after Hades and I finished our judgments, I visited Adonis. Sometimes I stayed for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, always timed to make sure Aphrodite would never find us. But she stayed away more and more, always grumbling about Ares or Hephaestus needing her attention. Adonis never complained, and she never asked why.
But I was that reason. The time I spent with Adonis was bliss, and from the way he lit up upon seeing me, I knew it wasn’t just me. Together we explored the island hand in hand, and we talked about everything. My life, his, the role the council played in the lives of mortals—Aphrodite had told him far more than we were permitted to tell mortals, and that made the conversation much easier. I wasn’t bending any rules she hadn’t already broken, and Adonis seemed to enjoy hearing about what we did.
Before I could stop and think, I slipped through the barrier between us, and I arrived on the beach in exactly the spot where Aphrodite had stood. Adonis’s eyes widened, and he blinked several times.
“Who are you?” he said, but he didn’t step back. That was something.
“Persephone,” I said. “I didn’t mean to barge in—”
“Persephone? Queen of the Dead?” he said, and now he did stumble backward. Damn. “Am I dying? Am I to be punished for being with the goddess of love herself?”
I snorted. “Please. If every man she slept with died because of it, there’d be no men left in the world. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to carry you off to the Underworld or anything.” Though he had the good sense to fear it, at least. “I just…”
What was I supposed to say? That I’d been spying on him and Aphrodite? That he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen? That I saw my future in his smile, that light and warmth and heart—that I wanted a piece of that happiness, no matter how small?
Oh, please. Love at first sight was the sort of thing Aphrodite believed, not me. I should’ve never come.
But the thought of returning to the Underworld and leaving him behind made my shriveled heart twitch in protest. He was a stranger, but at the same time, when I looked at him, I saw the familiar. I saw everything I’d ever wanted in those blue eyes, and I couldn’t tear myself away.
“You just what?” he said, his voice gentler now, as if he could feel whatever drew me toward him, as well. Maybe he could. Maybe this was another one of Aphrodite’s tricks, designed to humiliate me in front of everyone.
I needed to go. Or come up with a better excuse that had nothing to do with the truth. I took a breath, weighing my options. Not much of a choice. I could no sooner leave him than I could throw myself into the bottomless pit of Tartarus. “You looked—lonely, that’s all. I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared.”
He eyed me, and as the sky turned from rainbow to purple, he relaxed. “It takes loneliness in oneself to recognize it in another.”
“Yes, well. I don’t exactly have a whole host of people in the Underworld begging to come to my parties,” I said wryly.
That got a smile out of him, and it was just as beautiful as the ones he’d given Aphrodite. Maybe even more so, now that this one was meant for me. “I am Adonis,” he said, stepping forward. Though he hesitated, he took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “I am afraid I do not know the proper protocol for addressing royalty.”
“This isn’t my realm,” I said, “and right now, I’m not the queen of anything. I’m just Persephone.”
That was technically a lie; I still had a month to go before spring, but Adonis didn’t need to know that. “Well, just Persephone, it is the greatest pleasure and honor of my humble existence to set eyes on a creature as beautiful as you.”
I blushed. “Please. I know you’ve seen Aphrodite.”
“And yet I speak the truth.”
No wonder Aphrodite liked him. He could probably talk his way out of the Underworld. “Do you live here?” I said, and he nodded.
“Aphrodite brought me here to keep me safe,” he said. “Though safe from what, I’m afraid I do not know.”
I did. One look at Adonis, and it was obvious Aphrodite was worried someone else would claim him for their own. “What about your home? Your family?”
He shrugged and took my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I have none.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Adonis shook his head, and his blond curls fell into his eyes. “Don’t be. All the more time to spend with you. Do goddesses eat? Might I interest you in dinner?”
I should’ve said no. Hades would miss me before long, and I’d promised myself I would never betray him again. But Adonis made me feel as if I was flying—one look, one smile, and that was enough to wash all of the bad away. This was what I’d missed since Hermes. This was what I’d craved. And no matter how much I loved him, Hermes was nothing compared to Adonis.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I have time for dinner.”
He beamed and brushed his lips against my cheek. The spot where he’d touched me seemed to sear itself into my skin, and as he led me toward the edge of the woods, I hugged his arm. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one evening with Hades. I’d make it up to him, stay an extra day after the spring equinox or something. But nothing, not even my soul-crushing guilt, could make me walk away from Adonis.
* * *
Each evening, after Hades and I finished our judgments, I visited Adonis. Sometimes I stayed for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, always timed to make sure Aphrodite would never find us. But she stayed away more and more, always grumbling about Ares or Hephaestus needing her attention. Adonis never complained, and she never asked why.
But I was that reason. The time I spent with Adonis was bliss, and from the way he lit up upon seeing me, I knew it wasn’t just me. Together we explored the island hand in hand, and we talked about everything. My life, his, the role the council played in the lives of mortals—Aphrodite had told him far more than we were permitted to tell mortals, and that made the conversation much easier. I wasn’t bending any rules she hadn’t already broken, and Adonis seemed to enjoy hearing about what we did.
