Her aching body screeched in protest, though no part as loud as her right hand. She opened her eyes and removed the chewed-up mush on her injury.

Like last time, the wound had sealed shut; topped off with a scab. If Kore kept applying the plant-mixture, her hand would be healed in three days. The increased medicinal effect came with a price. Not only would the pain grow so unbearable she’d have to control herself from jumping off the nearest cliff, but all her energy would be transferred to healing and would leave her useless and vulnerable—a state she couldn’t afford.

No, she’d power through the injury. Kore had done it before with minimal complications; the same would happen now.

Besides, this wasn’t the worse situation she’d ever found herself in, though she couldn’t help but wish she had the same natural sped up healing capabilities as a god or Titan. 

Some benefits came with being the descendants of Gaia.  

A sigh caught Kore’s attention. She turned and found Hades sitting beside her; Cerberus in his lap. 

Both were sound asleep. 

The sight of them sent a jolt of heat to Kore’s stomach, and she smiled. It almost saddened her that she needed to wake them. If she could, she’d let the charming sight continue for the entire day.

Kore scooted closer to the pair. She pushed on Hades’ arm. “We should move.” 

Hades’ eyelids snapped open and he jumped; alerted Cerberus awake. The god’s wild gaze shifted around the woods, and the pup’s heads howled. 

“I—Where...”

Kore snickered. “I—You—It’s just me, waking you.” 

Hades looked at her and sanity bled into his expression. He rubbed the top of Cerberus’ heads until the hound quieted. 

“Everything fine?”

“Yes, but we’ve spent enough time lying about.” 

Hades took her right hand, and Kore, too weak, couldn’t dodge his hold. His fingers, tender and light, grazed her scab. She resisted wincing from the sudden burst of discomfort that soured the otherwise pleasant sensation of his skin against hers.

“I’m surprised anything in this place could heal.” 

“Tartarus wanted to ensure those unfortunate enough to be here could stay alive long enough to suffer thoroughly.”  

Hades peered close at Kore’s face. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’ll manage.” 

“Should we wait until your wound further improves?” 

Kore shook her head. “No, it’s best we go now.” 

Hades sighed but released her hand. “If you insist.” 

He set about ripping more strips from his tattered monochiton. 

When Kore offered some of her own clothing, the god acted as if she hadn’t spoken. On another day, she’d have protested, but she already had to focus to not drift back to sleep. Best let Hades make the harness the way he wanted than waste valuable energy on a pointless argument.

Faster than it’d taken him to complete the first, Hades had a passable harness. He maneuvered the squirming pup into it. 

Situated, Cerberus nosed the god’s arm.

Hades frowned. “Sorry, there’s no food.” 

A pitiful whine escaped Cerberus. 

Hades slung the harness straps over his shoulders. “I know, but I promise when we make it to the Upperworld, you’ll have all you can eat.” Hades’ brow furrowed, and he glanced at Kore. “Can he live on the Upperworld?” 

“I don’t know.” 

No one had ever taken a hound beyond the Fields. 

“Would Apollo’s salve for under-dwellers work on him?” 

“You’re asking the wrong individual.” 

Hades bit his lip. “If I can’t take him, would you keep him at your palace?” He flashed his half-grin. “It’d give me an excellent reason to visit.” 

“Just the mutt?” 

Kore’s eyes widened. Now, why had that slipped from her mouth? 

Hades’ lips pulled back into a proper smile that dazzled and stole Kore’s breath. “I could make time for others.” 

Kore glanced away and coughed. “Well, good.” 

She attempted to stand. Her feeble limbs refused to cooperate, and she stumbled. 

In a flash, Hades stood next to her. He steadied her.

“Thank you.” 

“Would you like to be carried?” 

Kore patted her sheathed sword. “Only if you’d like being run through with this.” 

Hades chuckled, and Kore appreciated the way his eyes crinkled in his merriment. 

He should laugh more. Though she could understand why he might find it difficult to enjoy life on that level on a more consistent basis. 

Maybe when the war ended, Hades would be free to discover what filled him with joy. 

Too soon, Hades’ laughter died. 

He steadied Kore better. “When do you think we’ll reach the mountain?” 

“No later than the end of the day.” 

“At a reasonable pace?” 

Kore rolled her eyes. “I won’t overdo it.” 

Hades snorted.

Kore saw no reason to correct him. Besides, he was more realistic about her stubbornness than she was. 

After a quick breakfast of the plump blue berries that grew in abundance and that tasted of ash (Cerberus growled when Hades offered him a handful), they set off. Kore couldn’t take the lead as she intended, and, instead, had to lean against Hades every so often. 

Because of that, the god took charge, though he prompted her for direction.

Forfeiting control unsettled Kore in the beginning. 

Even before she’d become the Daemon Queen, she’d directed many of her siblings. For over a century, she’d been the one everyone turned to, the one everyone expected to remain strong. To drop the role was tough.

Yet not for long. 

Unlike others, Hades didn’t relish in the sudden responsibility thrust onto him. He did it without question, but Kore sensed he didn’t enjoy it. 

A thought that had been brewing for the past few days surfaced. 

Why wasn’t Hades the God King? 

With him, there’d be no major war like the current one. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe there’d be no strife under Hades’ rule, but if he discovered any, she knew he’d do everything within his power to correct the mistake. 

Best of all, he didn’t belittle those who’d made foolish decisions—as she had concerning Yovar. Though she’d assumed he wouldn’t, Kore had been partially expecting the god to berate her over her irrational desire to talk with her brother, to convince him violence was unneeded. 

No, he’d comforted her while allowing her to mourn. 

A smile tugged on Kore’s lips. She was almost glad events had turned out the way they had. If they’d gone the more sensible route, she’d have never discovered the treasure that was Hades. 

Could Kore give him up when the time came? 

“What?” Hades asked after glancing at her. He looked around. “Have I veered us off course again?” 

“No, we’re headed in the right direction.” 

“Then what?” 

“I... I’d like to present you an offer.”

Hades cocked a small, knowing smirk. “The one you planned to make before the Aeternae attacked?” 

If Kore uttered the next word, there’d be no going back. She’d have to handle the fallout wherever the conversation led. 

Could she do it?

“Yes,” she said to both herself and Hades. 

“It is?” 

Kore released a lengthy breath. “Will you remain here, in the Underworld, after the war?” 

“As I’ve come to like the place, or there’s something keeping me here?” 

Kore shrugged and couldn’t meet his penetrating gaze. “Both could be reason enough.” 

His expression turned thoughtful, but his hand slipped from her arm to her rest in her left palm. The simple shift in contact sent Kore’s heart racing like nothing they’d come up against had since setting foot in Tartarus. Worry and anxiety quickened her breathing, yet a heavy dose of optimism sent eager tingles throughout her body.

Kore was no stranger to the satisfaction that could be found in a lover’s arms. She had had little time for it since becoming queen, but she took her pleasure when possible. She thoroughly enjoyed the act but found it couldn’t compare to Hades’ simple touch. 

She’d completed many amazing and exhilarating feats in her brief existence, yet none compared to the thrill of Hades’ fingers against her skin. 

Could this be part of the god’s Purpose? 

Was he the male counterpart to Aphrodite?

No, what she experienced was humbler than a Purpose yet as mystifying as magic. Its name lingered on her tongue, but Kore wouldn’t utter it. If she was wrong about Hades’ intentions, she didn’t want to disappoint herself. 

Hades pulled Kore to a gentle stop. With his free hand, he lifted her chin until she looked at him. The gesture was so like what Cronus had done days before, but oh so different at the same time. Unlike his father, Hades didn’t seek to conquer or harm her. He only wanted to hold her gaze to let her know he considered her an equal. 

“It would take me quite a while to... consider the Underworld my home.” 

A thread of disappointment wrapped around her hopefulness. “Oh.” 

“But...” 

The thread’s progression slowed. “Yes?” 

The god bent so his mouth hovered near Kore’s lips. “I could be persuaded by a certain Daemon Queen.” 

“What makes you so confident she’d even consider putting in that much effort?” 

Hades kissed her. 

Despite the state the Tartarus air left his body in, it hadn’t drained his lips of all their moisture. He smelt of freshly tilled dirt and the dark places one avoided. 

The combination intoxicated instead of repulsed, and Kore drew him closer.

The god’s mouth moved against hers with more skill than Kore would’ve guessed he possessed. He didn’t seek to dominate but to build her desire with his own. His tender, firm approach stripped Kore of her energy, and she fell against him; broke the kiss.

Hades steadied her. “Just a subtle hunch.” 

Kore chuckled. “Yes, subtle.” 

The god added his laughter to her own, and though Kore hadn’t forgotten that Yovar’s people may still be after them, she couldn’t muster the concern to dwell on it for long. The likelihood they’d be found were astronomical, and that was if her brother’s people cared enough or could stop their infighting to form a search party. The now-master-free palace had been coveted for as long as Kore could remember. Many wouldn’t abandon the chance to fill Yovar’s vacant spot. 

Their laughter died out, and Kore pegged Hades with a serious stare. “Is that—Are you saying yes?” 

“By your side?” 

“Is that where you want to be?”

“More and more every day.”