“Diana—Demeter, she’s my mother. She decided to have me in a last-ditch effort to save Henry because she felt so damn guilty for what you did to him, and she didn’t want to be responsible for him fading. He married me because he couldn’t have you, and I was the next best thing. Thanks for rubbing my nose in it.”
The words were out before I could stop them, but there was no taking them back now. Besides, it was the truth.
Tiptoeing around it and acting like she had nothing to do with me being born would’ve been stupid.
I was born to be another incarnation of her, to be the version of her that even she couldn’t be, but now that I was standing in front of her, I knew I would never come close.
She was beautiful and graceful and put the f lowers around us to shame, but at the same time, she was willing to hurt the people who loved her for the sake of her own happiness.
I wasn’t Persephone, and for the f irst time since meeting Henry over a year ago, I f inally realized that was a good thing. I was the one who could want Adonis and say no.
Overwhelming silence f illed the cottage. Persephone stared at me, her eyes burning with something I couldn’t identify, but I knew it wasn’t good. She didn’t have to tell me to leave. I turned on my heel and walked out the door.
The breeze blew through the meadow, and when I took a deep breath, the smell of freesia f illed me, but I was too far gone to care. Anger boiled away any sympathy I’d had for Persephone, and I didn’t care if she was my sister. I’d never had a sister before, and there was no need to change that now.
I heard the door swing open again and footsteps against the dirt as someone came after me. I kept going.
“Kate,” said Ava. “Kate, stop.”
I was halfway to the trees when she grabbed my arm. I whirled around, ready to lay into her, but the words formed a lump in my throat.
“You know that isn’t true,” she said softly. “Henry didn’t marry you because you were Persephone’s sister.” I tried to speak again, but all that came out was a choked sob, and my cheeks burned from humiliation. I’d barely spent f ive minutes with her, and already she’d reduced me to this.
“She—she’s the only reason I got the chance in the f irst place,” I blubbered. “And love was never part of the deal.
All I had to do to marry him was pass, and—and that’s all I did.”
Ava hugged me, and I buried my face in her shoulder, struggling not to cry more than I already was. Now that the dam had burst, however, I couldn’t stop. All of the worries and tension I’d kept bottled inside me since arriving in the Underworld came spilling out, and wave after wave of sobs assaulted me, stealing every last shred of dignity I had left.
I hadn’t signed up for this. I didn’t want to face my sister and all of the painful truths that came along with her. Even with the cancer, I’d been happy in New York with my mother, when I hadn’t known I’d been her second child, a replacement for the daughter who hadn’t been perfect.
Now, all her hopes and expectations weighed heavily on my shoulders, and my resolve cracked.
I didn’t want to be married out of duty or an arrangement. I loved Henry. Maybe it wasn’t the sort of endless, eternal love poets wrote about and musicians sang about, but he made me stronger, made me happy, and knowing he was in my life—he’d saved me, in more ways than one.
And when he was with me, everything felt right. It felt real.
And eventually we could get there if he would give me a chance. Instead he wanted to keep me at arm’s length, and all the while I suffered, knowing I wasn’t good enough for him to love me back. Knowing I wasn’t Persephone.
It wasn’t such a good thing when I thought about it that way.
Someone cleared their throat behind Ava, and I looked up, recognizing James’s blurry face through my tears.
“Is everything okay?” he said, sounding like he didn’t want to be here. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want to be here, either.
I shook my head and sniffed, wiping my face with the sleeve of my sweater. “Sorry. I just— I can’t, not if she’s going to be like that. It’s bad enough already, needing her and asking for her help. I can’t take her acting like this, too.”
“You’re no prize yourself,” said Persephone from behind James, and I stiffened. Ava placed herself between us, and I could’ve sworn I heard her hiss.
James held out his arms, as if he expected them to hurl themselves at one another and rip each other’s hair out.
“Enough, both of you. All three of you. None of us wants to do this, but it doesn’t matter what we want, because if we don’t, Cronus and Calliope will win.” I stared at the wildf lowers at my feet. I’d accidentally crushed one with the heel of my shoe, and I gingerly lifted my leg, as if being gentle now could bring it back to life. It wasn’t until disappointment shot through me that I realized I was looking for one of Henry’s f lowers. So he could be with me everywhere else, but not here. Not with Persephone.
Persephone batted James’s hand aside before moving closer. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice echoing through the meadow. “Not for what I said, but for what you’re going through. James explained it.”
Of course he had. My chest tightened as another wave of sobs advanced, and I clenched my jaw in an attempt to keep it at bay. “It’s f ine. You didn’t mean for it to happen.” Ava stepped beside me and took my hand, and that was all I needed to feel even more like an idiot than I already did. Cronus could kill us all, and here I was breaking down over something no one could help.