Free My Lord Hades by Stephannie Beman Page A

He could not repeat the past. Persephone deserved more.
    She was better off where she was. She was better off among family and friends. And he was better off enjoying her in the safety of his dreams. Only, he couldn’t really enjoy her. Not really.
    “I have to forget her,” he said, telling his heart what his mind already knew. “Or learn to be content without her.”
    He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to forget her. He didn’t want to be content without her.
    How he wished he’d never seen Persephone, never ventured past her garden. Then he’d be free from the torment raging in his soul, the obsession of his daemon nature that wanted to take her.
    She’d invaded his blood the moment she touched him, a siren calling to him, and he was
    finding it harder and harder not to answer that call.
    He’d hoped this passed for both their sakes, because if it continued, he would do something unpardonable and be truly damned for the length of his immortal life.
    He stood, snatching the jug of wine and nectar from the table, and halted before the window.
    He stared out over the rolling hills and emerald sea stretching out for hundreds of miles in every direction. The plentiful crops and animals ranging over the pasturelands of the gods made him wonder if he had entered a better land.
    Things had changed since his time when foraging for food and hunting were the only means
    of procuring food stuff, and humans didn’t exist. Now the gods ruled over the mortals who worshiped them out of fear, and tiny villages dotted the horizons.
    Taking another swig of liquid, he savored the rich, sweet flavor rolling over his tongue, gliding down his throat. He knew adding to his drunk state was a bad idea, but he wanted to drown the need in blissful oblivion.
    How many women and goddesses had he come across since he gained his freedom, and yet
    none of them invaded his thoughts as Persephone had? Would she always haunt him this way?
    Would his body forever crave her touch, her kiss? Would he forever be alone with nothing but dreams that never satisfied?
    He feared the answer was yes.
    “PERSEPHONE, WAKE up dear. It’s time to go.”
    Persephone groaned and opened her eyes. She wished her mother would stop shaking her
    shoulder, it hurt her head more. Persephone caught the doubt and guilt in her mother’s eyes a moment before Demeter turned her gaze away.
    “Where?”
    “Mount Olympus. Remember?”
    Persephone stretched her stiff muscles. “No.”
    The last thing she remembered was kissing Hades in the forest. At the thought of Hades, her eyes widened, and she bound off the couch. Would she see him at Mount Olympus?
    “Hurry. The charioteer has waited for us long enough.”
    Grabbing her bag, Persephone followed her mother through the kitchen and out the door. Had something happened? Did she have another episode? They seemed to be happening more often.
    Hours and days disappeared.
    A golden chariot pulled by four white horses stood outside the yard, pawing the ground
    impatiently, waiting for them. Persephone cringed at the damage done to her mother’s prized flower beds. She must have passed out to have missed her mother’s screaming.
    Persephone tried to push aside the feeling that something was off as they climbed aboard and the chariot took off. She tried to enjoy the ride, but she couldn’t.
    It wasn’t long before they landed in the courtyard of Mount Olympus. A young girl and boy ran to take their bags. The charioteer led them through the opulent palace. Everything was stark white, cream, or a shining gold. There was no sense of warmth or home, and Persephone hated the place. She wanted to go back to the villa.
    They met no one as they traversed the empty halls to her father’s suite of rooms. The woman knocked on the door. Demeter looked surprised by the man who opened the door. He was a foot taller than her mother and shorter than the charioteer, his build delicate compared to the woman.
    “Thank you, Iris. You can take