The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (98 page)

As if she hadn't caused a million of those in her existence. I
sandwiched Adonis's hand in both of mine. Screw Zeus's commands. I wasn't going
to stay quiet, not about this. “So not only are you keeping him here like some
kind of pet, but you're endangering his life, too. What sort of love is
that?”

Aphrodite's face turned red. “How dare you—”

“Silence, both of you,” said Zeus in a voice that rolled like
thunder, and even Aphrodite obeyed. “Adonis—that is your name, yes?”

He swallowed and nodded, averting his eyes. His grip would've
likely broken my bones if I hadn't been immortal.

“What is it you choose to do, Adonis?”

I exhaled. A choice. At least Adonis would have that much. I
patted his hand. “It's all right,” I whispered, and across from me, Aphrodite
stomped her foot in protest. Too bad.

“I…” He stopped and shook his head, staring at the sand. Why,
because he thought Aphrodite would curse him if he didn't choose her?

Probably. And I wouldn't put it past her, either. “It's your
life,” I whispered. “Remember that.”

But he still said nothing. At last Zeus ran out of patience.
“Very well, then I will decide. In the absence of the young man's opinion, I
will split his time equally between both of you. He will spend one third of the
year with Aphrodite, one third of the year with Persephone and for the final
third, he will do what he pleases. Is everyone happy?”

No, not in the least, and judging by the pinched look on
Aphrodite's face, she wasn't, either. But we both nodded, and Adonis didn't
protest. He barely even blinked.

“So be it. Now, if my beloved daughters do not mind, I have
matters much more important than this to attend to.” Without another word, he
disappeared, and instantly Adonis relaxed.

I turned to Aphrodite. I could've said a million things to her,
but instead I blurted, “Why wasn't Zeus mad that you told Adonis who you
are?”

Aphrodite shrugged, clearly put out over having to share him.
“Because I've been lobbying Daddy to let Adonis join us, of course. But now you
had to go and ruin it, didn't you?”

I snorted. “And how did
I
ruin it?
You're the one who wouldn't let him make up his own damn mind.”

“Persephone.” Adonis's voice was hoarse, but at least his grip
on my hand wasn't quite so tight anymore. “I apologize to you both for not
speaking up. It is just…”

“No need. We both know Daddy's a little intimidating
sometimes,” said Aphrodite cheerfully, though there was a glint in her eyes as
she looked at me. “But now that Daddy's made a decision, we have to figure out
who gets what third.”

I scowled. No doubt she'd try to make me take the winter
months. “I want him starting on the spring equinox. The entire spring and first
month of summer.”

She eyed me, and I steeled myself for the fight I knew was
coming. Instead of objecting, however, she nodded. “Yes, I think that's an
excellent idea. I'll take the next four months, and then Adonis can do whatever
he pleases with the final four.”

I blinked. That was it? Not even a hint of protest? “What's
your game, Aphrodite?”

“Game?” she said, her eyes widening innocently. A sure sign she
was lying through her teeth. “Is it so terrible to give my sister a chance at
happiness?”

There wasn't much I could say to that, not without looking like
a monster in front of Adonis. I would figure it out eventually though, and when
I did, I would rip her apart. “Fine. At the start of the spring equinox, you and
I will go to my cottage,” I said to Adonis. “And Aphrodite will stay very, very
far away.”

She sniffed. “Fine, as long as you promise to never come back
here, either. This is my island, not yours.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We glared at each other. This war wasn't over, but for now, we
had no choice but to call a ceasefire. I would discover her game soon enough,
and until then, I wasn't about to let her or Zeus or anyone ruin my time with
Adonis.

* * *

On the morning of the spring equinox, Hades dropped me
off in the meadow as he'd done thousands of times before. I leaned in to give
him a kiss on the cheek goodbye, nothing more than what it was, but he
stiffened.

I frowned and looked behind me. Standing in the clearing, as
promised, was Adonis. And Hermes. And Mother.

Terrific.

“And that, I take it, is Adonis?” said Hades quietly, and I
blanched.

“Yes.” Who had told him? Aphrodite or Zeus? Did it even matter?
“We're just friends.”

“For now,” he said softly, and I gave him that peck on the
cheek.

“I'll see you on the autumnal equinox. Take care of
yourself.”

He remained stoic as I walked across the meadow, and a knot of
guilt formed in the pit of my stomach. I should've told him, but these seasons
were mine, and telling him before anything had happened wouldn't have made it
any easier. It wouldn't have made him hurt any less.

I ignored Hermes completely. He frowned as I passed, but to my
relief, he didn't say anything. The situation was awkward enough as it was
without his getting involved. Instead I headed toward Adonis first, taking his
hand and giving him a smile. He returned it, albeit nervously, and he glanced
over my shoulder. At Hades, no doubt. “It's fine,” I said, and I led him toward
Mother. “I want you to meet my mother, Demeter. Mother, this is—”

“I know who he is,” said Mother quietly. Instead of welcoming
him like I expected, as Adonis bowed in greeting, her lips curled back with
contempt. “I thought you were past this, Persephone.”

“Past what?” I said. “Past making friends? Past wanting to be
happy?”

“Past causing your husband pain in the most deplorable way
possible,” said Mother. Beside me, Adonis straightened, and I touched his elbow.
No need for him to waste effort if she was going to be cruel about it.

“You're the reason that me finding a bit of happiness is so
deplorable
in the first place,” I said. “If you
can't support me, then fine, I don't need your support. And I don't need you
here, either.”

I didn't know what I expected—an angry retort, a sneer, Mother
to break down and beg my forgiveness. Either way, I didn't expect her to fold
her hands, give Adonis a slight nod and disappear completely.

All the air left my lungs, and I stared at the empty space
where she'd stood moments before. She'd gotten mad at me before, of course, and
her disappointment over the years had become impossible to bear. But never had
she turned her back on me. Not like this.

“I am sorry,” whispered Adonis, his lips brushing against my
temple. The regret in his voice only made the ache inside me grow.

“Don't be. Please.” He shouldn't have had to suffer for my
mistakes. “Let's just go.”

“All right,” murmured Adonis, leading me down the path I'd
traveled thousands of times before. I trailed after him, heartbroken and empty,
and not even the warm weight of his hand in mine brought me comfort.

I thought I'd known what loneliness felt like, but it wasn't
until I walked that trail without Mother that I finally understood. Even in my
darkest hour, Mother had been there for me. She'd loved and supported me no
matter how often or hard we fought. And now—

Now the one person I'd always needed, the one person I'd
thought would always be there for me, was gone.

* * *

That summer was simultaneously the best and worst of my
life.

The hole Mother had left inside me only grew as it became clear
she had no intention of returning. But at the same time, those four months with
Adonis filled me in a way nothing ever had before. Every moment was an
adventure—I'd explored the forest around the cottage countless times, but
somehow every day he managed to find something new, something small but
beautiful that I'd overlooked. A wild garden full of exotic flowers that tangled
together in chaos. A tree so ancient and gnarled that I suspected it outdated
Zeus. He reintroduced me to things I'd long since lost—the warmth of the sun on
my skin, the shiver down my spine as I stepped into a cool river. He gave me
back pieces of my life I'd never realized I missed.

No one could deny Adonis was gorgeous, but the more I got to
know him, the more I realized that his appearance was little more than a taste
of his inner beauty. He was kind, generous, honest and, despite the fact that
Aphrodite had gotten to him, he was innocent in a way I hadn't been since my
marriage eons ago. He had nothing but love inside him, and he radiated it every
waking hour. I drank it in, letting it fill me until all of the negativity
washed away, and by the time four months was up, I'd never been more content
with my lot in life. All of it, every last terrible moment, was worth it now
that I knew it had led me to Adonis.

In the middle of summer, Aphrodite came to claim him. To her
credit, she was mostly polite about it, only giving me a small smirk when Adonis
turned his back. But the instant they left, that hole in my heart opened up,
hemorrhaging all of the happiness I'd collected during our four months
together.

I cried harder than I ever had before. Now that Adonis was no
longer there to act as a buffer, for days I did nothing but curl up in bed and
stare at the wall as reality set in.

Mother hated me. I'd cheated on Hades again. Hermes was barely
talking to me, and the one light in my life was currently with a blonde whore
who couldn't possibly love him the way I did. He was just another toy to her,
and the thought of him going through that, having no say in his time with
Aphrodite the way I'd had no say in my time with Hades—

It wasn't fair, but there was nothing I could do about it,
either. Zeus had made up his mind, and if Adonis wasn't willing to speak up on
his own behalf, then so be it.

Though I wasn't proud of it, I spied on them. He didn't kiss
her the way he kissed me; he didn't watch her the way he watched me. And every
time Aphrodite laughed, I swore I saw him flinch.

That should've given me some amount of satisfaction, but it
only made me more miserable. Adonis should've had what I didn't—freedom. And
instead, in my quest to find happiness, I'd stolen that from him. Did that make
me as bad as Hades? As bad as Mother and Zeus?

Eventually summer turned into autumn, and it was time for me to
return to the Underworld. Hades greeted me in the meadow as always, but rather
than a smile and a kiss on the cheek, he simply nodded coldly and took my hand
without a word. Whatever he'd gone through in those six months, whatever
thoughts and questions had haunted him, had also ruined every step of progress
we'd made in the thousands of years since Hermes and I had broken up. And more
than ever, self-loathing snaked through me, doing nothing but compounding my
despair. I didn't deserve Hades's friendship. I didn't deserve Adonis, not after
doing this to him. I didn't deserve any of it.

Those six months in the Underworld were blank. I went through
the motions of existing, but some integral part of who I was had given up
entirely. Hades stopped spending the evening with me. He no longer brought me
breakfast. He could barely stand to look at me even when we had to, even when a
mortal's eternity depended on our communication. And rather than take steps to
fix it, all I could do was drown in the darkness that was my life. Not even the
promise of four months with Adonis in the spring made it better.

After several weeks of spying on Adonis and Aphrodite, I
stopped, unable to stomach seeing him so upset any longer. But eventually her
time with him passed as well, and shortly before the spring equinox, I couldn't
resist checking in on Adonis once more.

He stood in a stream I didn't recognize, using a net to capture
fish. I watched him, invisible to his eyes, and just seeing him like this—free
and happy—was enough to make me smile. Four months wasn't forever, and one day
Aphrodite would grow bored of him. I never would though, and eventually, when
mortality claimed him, I would have him entirely to myself. Aphrodite wouldn't
be able to touch him in the Underworld.

Behind me, someone giggled, and a cold wave of dread crashed
through me, washing away what little warmth had blossomed. Even though it was
his four months of freedom, even though everything I'd witnessed made it clear
he didn't love her, Aphrodite skipped out of the trees, a flower tucked behind
her ear.

“Adonis! There you are.” She stepped into the stream with him
and set a hand on his bare back. “Any luck?”

He shook his head. “A few close calls.”

“Well, I'll just ask the nymphs to make us dinner then,” she
murmured. “I'm
starving
.”

Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the mouth, her hand
dancing downward toward his waist. She wasn't hungry for food, that was for damn
sure.

I was going to kill her.

This was supposed to be Adonis's time alone, not an extra third
of a year for her. And why was he going along with this? Why hadn't he refused
her and walked away?

The same reason he hadn't spoken up when Zeus had asked him,
more than likely. Mortals with any sense of self-preservation didn't question a
god. Even one as feeble as Aphrodite.

I didn't hesitate. I pulled my body through the space between
us as I'd done almost exactly a year ago, and this time Aphrodite didn't seem
the least bit surprised to see me.

“I was wondering when you'd stick your nose where it doesn't
belong,” she chirped, sliding her arm around Adonis's torso. He paled at the
sight of me, and though he tried to step back from Aphrodite, she held on.
Naturally. Couldn't risk letting her trophy think for himself, else her precious
ego might be bruised.