Vowed to Hades (Romancing the Seas #4)

22. Persephone

PERSEPHONE

P ersephone's nerves were on edge as she followed Ava through the dense forest toward the palace. The air was thick with the sweet, fruity aroma of ripened berries mingling with the damp earth beneath their feet. Birds sang from the branches high above, their melodies weaving through the rustling leaves. It was a world away from the dark and oppressive Underworld, a place of life and color that almost felt like a dream.

But the serenity of their surroundings did little to calm the storm brewing inside her. Her thoughts were a tangled mess of confusion and fear, each step toward the palace bringing her closer to the answers she wasn't sure she wanted to find.

Ava led the way with purposeful strides, her Grecian dress flowing around her like water.

Georgette and Serena followed closely behind, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern.

As they approached the palace, its grand stone structure loomed before them, partially obscured by the lush greenery that had begun to reclaim it.

Vines crept up the walls, and the once pristine paths were now overgrown with wildflowers.

The sight of it sent a shiver down Persephone’s spine, the memories of her time here flickering at the edges of her mind like a half-forgotten dream.

When they passed the threshold, Persephone felt a pang in her chest as they walked down the familiar corridors.

“There’s a room at the top of the tower, if the book is still here, that’s where it will be,” Ava said.

Serena and Georgette nodded and picked up the pace, running up a spiral staircase.

The walls seemed to close in on Persephone, and her breath hitched as they neared a room that made her heart stutter.

Adonis's room.

She stopped in her tracks, her hand brushing against the doorframe. The touch of the cold stone sent a flood of memories rushing back—Adonis smiling at her, his arms wrapped around her as they danced in the moonlight, the sound of his laughter filling the room. But with those memories came something darker, a shadow that tainted the warmth of those moments.

She forced herself to move on, following Ava as they ascended a spiral staircase that seemed to stretch forever upwards. But before they reached the top, she stopped outside a simple wooden door .

Ava hesitated, her hand on the handle, before she turned to Persephone.

“This is where I found you,” Ava said quietly.

Persephone’s heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a sickening dread settle in her stomach.

“Show me,” she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and determination.

Ava pushed the door open, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room.

It was stark and cold, with hardly any furniture save for a narrow bed and a dusty jug of water on a table beside it.

The sight of the room sent a wave of nausea rolling through Persephone, a deep, inexplicable sickness that twisted in her gut.

“There’s something… wrong here,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she stepped inside. The air felt thick, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. “Why don’t I remember this place?”

Ava looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and guilt, her eyes downcast. “I… I’m not sure. When I found you, you were asleep, but not in a natural way. It was as if you were in a trance.”

Persephone’s eyes narrowed. She remembered something—a vague, hazy memory of Ava standing over her, her voice gentle but firm, commanding her to follow.

“You used your powers on me,” Persephone said, the realization dawning on her.

Ava nodded, a blush creeping into her cheeks. “I have telekinetic abilities… and I can see glimpses of th e future. But I’ve never been able to restore someone’s memories. Hades asked me to help you, but I was so angry with him for locking us in the Underworld… I refused.”

Persephone’s heart ached with a thousand questions, but she forced herself to focus. “But now?” she asked, her voice tinged with desperation. “Can you try? I need to understand what really happened here, what Adonis did to me.”

Ava hesitated, then sighed and nodded. “I can try.”

Persephone held out her arm, her pulse quickening as Ava reached out to touch her.

The moment their skin connected, a strange energy surged between them, and the world around Persephone shifted.

She was no longer in the cold, barren room. Instead, she stood in the lush palace gardens, the air warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers.

Adonis was there, his handsome face lit up with a smile as he approached her, his bow slung over his shoulder, evidence of a recent hunt.

Persephone found herself picking flowers, her hands moving automatically as she watched him approach. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her temple. She felt a warmth spread through her, a sense of safety and belonging that was almost overwhelming.

But then, the ground beneath her feet began to tremble, the earth itself protesting with a low, ominous rumble.

Persephone looked around, panic tightening in her chest as the trees surrounding the palace grounds began to shake violently.

“What is that terrible sound?” she asked, her voice filled with fear.

Adonis's face grew troubled, but he forced a smile.

“There’s nothing, Persephone,” he said, but his eyes betrayed the truth. He placed a hand on her forehead, his touch cool against her skin. “Oh, my goodness. You’re burning up.”

She shook her head, trying to push away the rising dread. “No, I’m fine. It’s the ground… It’s shaking.”

But Adonis didn’t seem to hear her. He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her as if she were a fragile thing that might shatter at any moment. “Do not worry, my love. I’ll get your medicine, and you’ll be well again.”

The vision faded, leaving Persephone disoriented and breathless.

Ava’s touch lingered, grounding her as she struggled to make sense of what she had just seen.

“That… that was strange,” Ava admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t control what you saw, but that memory… It doesn’t feel right.”

Persephone’s mind was racing, her heart pounding with fear and confusion .

Serena and Georgette burst into the room, their faces flushed.

“We’ve got it,” Georgette said, breathless.

But their victorious expressions faded at the sight of Persephone knelt on the floor.

“Persephone just had…a memory,” Ava murmured to them. “About Adonis.”

Persephone’s heart throbbed. She looked to the others, desperate for their thoughts. “Do you know the truth about me? About…Hades?”

But they all shared the same bewildered expressions.

“I was raised in Atlantis,” Serena said, breaking the silence. “My father never spoke of what went on outside the walls of our home.”

Georgette nodded. “The humans have books on the gods. I remember a story about Hades kidnapping you and taking you to the Underworld. Which does not paint him in a heroic light.”

Persephone’s gaze snapped to Ava, searching for some semblance of truth. “Your husband is his nephew. Surely, he’s spoken about me?”

Ava bit her lip, clearly choosing her words carefully. “He has… and you were indeed married to Hades. But…”

“But what?” Persephone asked, her voice trembling with the need for answers.

Ava opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, the ground beneath them trembled violently.

The walls of the palace groaned under the strain, and dust fell from the ceiling as the structure began to shake.

Serena’s voice cut through the rising panic. “The palace is crumbling, we have to get out, now!”

Ava raised her hand, trying to form a portal, but nothing happened. Her eyes widened. “I can’t… it’s not working!”

Without another word, they bolted for the exit, the walls shaking more violently with every step.

The sound of stone cracking and crumbling filled the air, and Persephone’s heart raced as they narrowly dodged falling debris.

They burst through the palace doors just as the entire structure collapsed behind them, sending up a cloud of dust and rubble.

Persephone skidded to a halt, gasping for breath, her mind reeling from the events of the last few minutes.

But there was no time to process what had happened. No time to question the memories that didn’t quite fit or the ominous tremor that had destroyed the palace.