Page 179 of A Kingdom of Light and Air
‘And why would I lie?’ Persephone reclined against the throne, her expression one of languid amusement.
‘You’re a goddess,’ Mal spat, her tone sharp as drawn steel. ‘And all gods lie.’
‘You’re not wrong.’ Persephone laughed, low and soft, a sound like ice cracking on water. ‘But the truth of it, Mal Blackburn, is this: you began all of it. Because you could not stomach that your mother chose a mortal over you. And because she cursed you for it.’
‘No…’ Mal shook her head, disbelief curdling her voice. ‘You’re lying.’
‘Fine.’ Persephone lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. ‘Then ask him.’ She gestured towards Thanatos.
Those black, dangerous eyes cut to Persephone, simmering with warning, before he exhaled and turned his gaze on Mal.
‘For a thousand years, Mal Blackburn, you have been a princess here in the Underworld,’ Persephone said, relentless now, her words like slow-turning knives. ‘You knew me already. You stood witness when your father wed me. You were there when I birthed Makaria and Zagreus into this wretched world. You have always been the beginning and the end.’
‘Stop it,’ Thanatos said, his black eyes gleaming with hate, his voice taut and trembling.
But Persephone would not stop. Let Mal Blackburn drown in the truth they had all conspired to keep from her, let her choke on the bitterness she herself had sown.
‘Shall I tell her, or will you finally grow some balls, Thanatos, and speak it yourself?’ Persephone’s words were a silken dagger, barbed and cruel.
Fury darkened his finely sculpted face, a storm carved in marble, but Persephone no longer cared. Let them all suffer, as she had suffered when they had torn her children from her arms.
‘Tell me what?’ Mal demanded, her body trembling, though whether from fear or rage, even she could not tell.
‘Don’t,’ Thanatos warned, his voice deep, dangerous.
Persephone dismissed his warning with a languid flick of her wrist.
‘He has been keeping the greatest secret of them all,’ she said, her smile stretching wide, sharp enough to wound.
Mal’s fingers twitched, as though she might seize Thanatos by the arm and drag the truth from him herself, but she mastered the impulse, drawing herself taut instead.
Her purple eyes narrowed, danger glinting within their depths once more.
‘What is it?’ she asked, voice low, blade glinting in her hand like a promise of violence.
Persephone’s smile curled into something almost serpentine. ‘You and Thanatos already knew each other.’
‘Stop it,’ he growled, voice reverberating like distant thunder.
But Persephone would not stop. No, she would let the rot of their lies spill into the open, let it poison everything they had left.
‘You have known each other for a thousand years, Mal Blackburn,’ she said, her voice soft, almost reverent in its cruelty. ‘Because he is your husband.’
THE END
