Название | Goddess of the Underworld |
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Автор произведения | Aimee Carter |
Жанр | Детская проза |
Серия | |
Издательство | Детская проза |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472000583 |
“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.
No contest.
As soon as I finished washing off any last trace of the night before, I hurried out of the bedroom, nearly crashing headfirst into Hades in the hall. Though he carried a tray, he managed to sidestep me without dropping anything. For a long moment, we stared at each other.
“Where …” He paused and clutched the tray, loaded with my favorite fruits, breads and cheeses. He was bringing me breakfast in bed. “Where are you going?”
Another wave of guilt washed over me. Even after last night, he was still trying to make me happy. “I—I need to see Mother,” I said, my voice hitching. “Can I …?”
“Of course.” He set the tray down on an end table and reached for me, though he pulled away at the last second. “I’ll take you up to Olympus.”
I followed him through the hallway to the private entrance, and together we walked down the cavern path that led to the portal between realms. Seeing the rock around me only made the weight on my chest worse, and by the time we reached the crystal circle in the ground, I could barely see straight.
“Are you all right?” said Hades, touching my elbow. Though it wasn’t much, it was enough to remind me of the night before, and I shuddered. He immediately dropped his hand.
“I’m sorry, I just—I need to—I need to go to Olympus. Can you show me how?” Technically, before my wedding and coronation, I’d been unable to, but now, as Queen of the Underworld, I had that power.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Of course. I have to touch you to get you there. Is that all right?”
I nodded, and he set his hand on my back. It was a familiar touch, the kind only two people who knew each other well could share, and his skin burned against mine.
Why was it this bad? Sure, the night before hadn’t been at all what I’d been raised to expect from watching Aphrodite and her lovers, but plenty of people had gone through worse. So why did the very thought of him make me sick to my stomach?
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