Free Destroyer of Light by Rachel Alexander

smiled. He relaxed his shoulders.
    “I suffered Sisyphus in my bed and in my soul for seventeen years. And I won’t do it ever again. So if you’ve come to me, thinking about my husband when you should be thinking about me, then I’ll ask you to leave right now. But if you can put our scars aside,” she said, leaning back and letting the sheet fall to her waist, “and allow us to enjoy each other for one night— then yes; you may stay.”
    “I’m certain I can agree to that, my lady.” He smiled at her and slowly pulled back the rest of the sheet, hand over hand, until she was fully exposed to him.
    He took in all the things about her that had haunted his imagination for a month. She sat up to meet him as Thanatos crept forward. His knee parted her legs and his arms held him aloft on either side of her. He brushed back the tight ringlets of her hair, tucking them next to her ear.
    “Every night, my brothers have quelled your nightmares and healed you while you slept…”
    Thanatos kissed across her cheek, and lightly stroked his fingers down her neck and collarbone, caressing the outside curve of her breast, a dark berry nipple beading against the gentle pressure of one digit.
    “Now that your eyes are open, it’s my turn.”
    His next kiss lowered her to the bed. Their limbs feverishly tangled together several times before dawn, alabaster hands on olive skin, male and female, awake and alive, both marveling at the contrast. She needed this, and though his ethos didn’t always permit him to give women what they wanted, he always managed to give them what they needed when he had them. He wasn’t upset at himself for bending his rules with her; it was all within the course of one night, and he wouldn’t return to her. He knew in the back of his mind that even if he did want to see her again, it would be impossible. Their last coupling was leisurely and sublime, and as he rocked gently within her, Merope finally let go— ready— at peace. When light started filtering through her window, Death quietly draped himself in the black cloak that lay pooled at the edge of the bed. He planted a kiss on the nymph’s sleeping forehead and walked to the window, sickle in hand.
    “Goodbye, Merope,” he whispered.

4.
    “She went to Aeacus today to drink the waters of the Lethe.”
    “Who?” Persephone asked. “Merope?” Aidoneus nodded. She sighed and sat on the divan.
    He walked behind her, brushing a hand down her back. “Does that upset you?”
    “Only a little, and mostly for selfish reasons,” she admitted. “I enjoyed having someone from my… previous life… that I could talk to, but every conversation would drift back to all the pain she endured. I don’t understand why she insisted on clinging to those memories day after day.”
    “Many do,” he said. “Sometimes, it seems those who’ve suffered the most are the least willing to let go. Merope is not the first such soul I’ve encountered; and I assure you, she will not be the last.”
    “Truly? I’m happy she finally decided to find peace in Asphodel.” She stilled his hand on her shoulder and laced her fingers within his, looking up at him. “Any idea what convinced her?”
    “I have my suspicions,” Aidoneus said darkly. “Aeacus said that she was smiling, and calmer than he’d ever seen her. Merope told him she was ready and it was long overdue. She wanted to say goodbye to us, but told Aeacus it would only make it harder.”
    “I just wish there were something more that we could have done for her.”
    “What more? Merope is at peace now.”
    She slid over so he could sit next to her and gazed out over the Styx beyond the terrace. Persephone shook her head. “I’m not sure. It is true; Merope will be at peace in Asphodel…”
    “But…”
    “…She will be reborn one day. And while the living world is a place of joy and sunlight…” she paused when she saw Aidon cast his eyes downward. He looked exhausted. She stroked his