Of Lockets and Pomegranates: Chapter 1

When the soul of Athena’s Champion appeared in Hades’ Underworld an hour ago, he knew their savagery well. He struggled to keep his eyes off Pandora, to focus anywhere else, but her presence demanded attention. He’d tried to convince himself that he only noticed her because that was his job.

Hades knew the Fates had cursed him when she’d stepped off Kharon’s boat with the meek soul of a boy behind her. Gods above, she was the reason plays were written about love and tragedy. Pandora was the siren’s song that called him to the River Styx, and he’d gladly dive in.

“This is cruel, even for you,” he whispered, casting his eyes upward.

Her soul was deep purple with a solid streak of red emanating from where her heart would be if she were living. She was an immortal, claimed by his niece Athena. That was more reason for him to look away. The timid boy behind her, the one that followed her like a lost puppy, should have sealed the deal. He didn’t. He wasn’t immortal and would mean nothing to her when she was reborn.

A flutter of movement next to him was enough to turn from her. Hypnos hovered beside him, his hooded eyes staring in the woman’s direction. He was the God of Sleep, perpetually half-awake in the waking realm, but he noticed her too. The god saw more than people gave him credit for.

“I dreamed of her,” Hypnos said with a loud yawn. “The soul you’ve been ogling.”

“I have not.” Hades snapped with an uncharacteristic pout.

“Would you like to know what I dreamed?” the god continued, ignoring the interruption.

“Was it a prophetic dream?” If it was, he didn’t want to know. There was enough to deal with, like a wife who despised him. He was working on that. Sort of.

Hypnos shook his head. “This was different. Prophetic dreams can be altered. This cannot. This shall happen no matter how much you fight it.”

Hades huffed a sarcastic laugh, pushing himself off his throne. What the fuck had he done to deserve this? He’d already been cursed once. “If it’s going to happen anyway, I should save the surprise.”

He pushed the hovering god out of his way, finding his woman again in the gathering crowd. She was soothing a group of souls that were weeping, their wails sounding like chiming bells to anyone unable to speak to them. She didn’t speak but offered what physical comfort she could.

When he approached, her glare was surprising. No soul had ever looked at him with such conviction. No, she looked at him as though they were equals. Which—for anyone interested—she was not. He was the God of the Underworld, guardian of the dead. Few people fell—keyword being ‘fell’—to his level. She was likely more morally intact than he was, which put her far above him.

Pandora was shorter than him by two feet, but she gave no indication he alarmed her. Surprisingly, the size difference intimidated him. This tiny blonde should be cowering beneath him, looking at him the way everyone else did. Instead, her steely blue eyes watched as though she were measuring his worth.

“You’re in the wrong place, little pixie,” he narrowed his eyes at the souls around her. “You’re rather important and I need to get you going.” She needed to leave before he did something bad.

Pandora shook her head, intense sorrow filled her gaze as she looked back at the lost puppy. The boy shrank away from him, and he felt some satisfaction. “I will follow him until I know he’s safe. I promised to protect him.”

“I’ll take care of him.” Simply put, he wouldn’t be sent to Tartarus, not that he deserved it. He was such a young soul, meant to be reborn for another chance at life.

She pushed the boy behind her, planting herself in his way. She bared her teeth at him. “He goes to the Field of Elysium. I will not leave until then.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. This boy had done nothing that deemed him worthy of eternal paradise. He sobered when he realized she was serious. “Can’t do that, little pixie.” With a snap of his fingers, the soul appeared in his palm, a miniature version of himself. “He should be reborn.”

“No. I must atone for his death. He didn’t deserve to die!” She stepped closer, trying to pluck the soul from his palm. “He has to go to Elysium!”

He didn’t care about the soul but that didn’t stop him from grabbing her wrist. Her memories flooded into him and every raw emotion she had ever felt slammed into him. She was cursed too and that broke the resolve he had. She would be the one thing that had the power to undo him.

He needed to get her out of his Underworld. Now.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

She crinkled her nose. “I don’t like deals with gods. Only one has ever worked in my favor, and it was one I lost.”

“I know, but you’ll make this deal because of him, Pandora.” She blinked when he said her name. “It’s not something you can lose. You follow me to Elysium to place his soul there and then you leave. Athena and your companions are waiting on the Upperworld for you.”

“What’s the catch?” she asked suspiciously.

“The catch is that you leave. I need you gone before Athena throws a tantrum.” He waved his hand before she responded, and they appeared on the edge of Elysium. The endless revel was happening, welcoming new souls. Brilliant, golden forms glided through the Fields, happy and at peace.

“Can I say goodbye?” She asked shyly and he felt a stab of jealousy. “This will be our last.”

Hades didn’t argue. Elysium souls could choose to be reborn if they wanted. Not many did, but it happened. Those that had unresolved emotional connections to the Upperworld usually did. He was sure this would arise with the boy. He knew she meant well but she was misguided.

“Please do. Being close to the Fields, he’ll understand you.” Souls couldn’t speak to one another, simply sounding like bells.

He returned to his normal size, and she threw her arms around his neck. His form burned golden with a twinge of amber where his heart would be. There was intense sorrow within him. He was mourning her loss, and she was about to tell him goodbye. She hadn’t asked him what he wanted. She wasn’t going to.

“You should never have died because of me,” she whispered to him.

When she released him, Hades reformed him amongst the thickest throng of revelers. He needed a moment alone with her before he made her leave. She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes, and his heart clenched.

“Thank you.” Pandora threw her arms around his waist. She was too short to do anything else. The contact felt like touching a live wire. That one hug was the start of his downfall.

He untangled himself and stared at her. “Are you ready to leave? I have things I need to attend to.” Like forgetting she existed.

She looked to the Fields, searching for Marcus. That was the boy’s name Hades learned from her memories. When she turned back, her gaze had hardened. “I’m going to massacre those soldiers when I’m reborn. So many innocent lives were lost.”

It was Athena’s job to train her Champion in proper etiquette, not his. His Champion was savage compared to those of the Golden Gods, and he liked it that way. People feared Vern. Even Zeus was wary of him. He would admit he liked the idea of her getting revenge; she would be stunning covered in their blood. “While I would encourage that, Athena might not. If you focus that anger on the demons that caused the attack, you’re likely to see better results.”

She pursed her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. “I didn’t even have a chance to be her Champion before dying.”

“And apparently she didn’t court you well beforehand,” he said offhandedly. “Every Warrior Champion must die before their soul is taken. You know, the whole ‘dying like a true hero’ archetype. If you hadn’t proven yourself before you died, she wouldn’t have claimed your soul.”

By her frown, she hadn’t known that. Athena was about to hear each unanswered question that was stirred in her mind. He might not know her but she wasn’t hard to figure out. She’d lived a hard life and wanted to impress Athena. And now she’d learned the lesson not to offer her soul without concrete answers.

“You’re staring at me as though you want to devour me,” she narrowed her eyes on him. “Why?”

He couldn’t stop himself from answering her, driven by an intense need. “Because I do. I want to know how you taste.”

She blinked at him, digesting his words. Her form vibrated, the telltale sign that a soul was flustered. That made him smirk.

She opened her mouth like a fish, words eluded her. “Why?”

He took a lock of her hair between his fingers and gently pulled her closer. “I don’t know, but I think you need to leave before I can’t control myself.”

She nodded but didn’t pull away. She just looked up at him, her stormy eyes wide. One taste couldn’t hurt. He slowly leaned down, giving her a chance to push him away. When she didn’t, he hesitated.

If he had noticed the lone goddess that had materialized on the other side of the Field of Elysium, he would have stepped away. If he had seen the dangerous smirk on her lips, he would have begged the Fates to make it anyone else he was cursed to fall for. He would have done everything differently, but he didn’t notice her. So, he let his lips brush Pandora’s, and the world crumbled.

Before he’d pulled away, he forced her soul out of the Underworld. His heart hammering in his chest, he tried to convince himself that was the only time he would ever touch her.

Editor: Michelle Naragon