Free Bride of Fire by Charlene Teglia

Chapter One
    She was light. He was darkness. She could never be his.
    Hades, Lord of the Underworld, curled his hands into fists as he watched her.
    Persephone, daughter of Demeter. Hair as golden as the sun he never felt the heat of, eyes as blue as the sky he could not stand beneath, body as ripe as the fields she ran across. She was everything forbidden to him. She belonged to the world above, the realm of light. The realm of life. He’d never coveted that realm. He had his own, and he ruled it absolutely. But he coveted her.
    His kingdom offered him everything. Power, companions, riches. Any pleasure he desired. If he wished for a thing, it was his. He was lord here, his word inviolable. But his kingdom had no queen.
    He had everything. Except her.
    She had everything. Except a lover. As days became months, he watched and he wanted and he waited for her to reveal her choice, with bitter jealousy eating at his heart, but Persephone remained alone. She came to this field in Enna to gather flowers to please herself, not to wind in her long hair to prepare herself for a man she desired.
    She was alone, as he was alone. She was too closely guarded to be anything else. Guarded everywhere but here, where the landscape itself guarded her.
    And so, at last, he had prepared a flower for her. A special blossom, so rare she’d never have seen its like; she could not have. No other existed. Like him, it was alone of its kind.
    It would bloom only for her. It would tempt her, as she tempted him. She would not be able to resist it. She would pluck it from the earth.
    Then he would take her.
    *****
    Persephone ran laughing across the green field dotted with wildflowers beneath the wide, blue Aegean sky. The explosion of color and scent delighted her. Here, in all the world, she was free to enjoy herself, in a place even her over-protective mother had to admit was safe. Enna sat on a level summit on a high hill, nearly a mountain, surrounded on all sides by cliffs that formed a natural fortress. No harm could come to her here. In all the time she’d been coming here, not even an insect had threatened her.
    If she was lonely, at least she could console herself in nature.
    She breathed in air heated from the sun, heady with a blend of rich perfumes. One scent caught her attention. Lighter than jasmine, more subtle. Exotic. What flower produced it? Spicy, enticing… Persephone breathed in again and it flooded her senses with narcotic sweetness until she felt like she stood in a dream. Colors grew brighter, the heat of the sun more soporific. The silk of her dress dragged against her skin, tempting her to discard it and clothe herself only in sunlight.
    Was it something like a poppy? She searched for the source of this scent that teased and pleased like no other. Ah, there. Could that be it?
    She knelt in the grass, not minding the cool wetness that wicked through the fabric of her skirt. Cupping the shape, she fingered the texture of a petal. An orchid, but not like any she’d ever seen. It was a pale lavender with a dark scarlet heart. She searched out the stem and found it thick and woody. She rolled it between her fingers, entranced by the beauty of this unexpected discovery.
    It delighted her senses on every level; the shape, the colors, the fragrance. She breathed deeper, closing her eyes and touching her nose nearly to the flower’s center. Her head spun as she inhaled and images filled her mind like smoke, forming shapes that evaporated before she could see them clearly. They looked like the joined figures of a man and a woman, limbs entwined, dissolving and reforming in varying postures, reaching for something that eluded Persephone.
    A craving awoke inside her. There was something. Something she wanted. Needed. It uncoiled from her center, spreading heat and lassitude through her limbs. She wanted something. What was it?
    The flower.
    Persephone opened heavy lids halfway, gripped the woody stem with both hands, and pulled.
    The