Page 131 of Blood of Olympus

Looking up, I had the strangest sense of deja vu — needed to double check who lay in my arms. The woman in front of me was the spitting image of Nyssa, right down to her brilliant emerald eyes. Standing next to her, with one ghostly arm wrapped around her wavering form was a figure I recognised well — and if I was being honest, one I still feared a little.

Hades looked the same as the last time I’d seen him, albeit more grey and transparent. He had eyes only for his daughter; smiled down at her, with a mixture of profound love and immeasurable sadness in his depthless, black eyes.

“If you'd have told me ten years ago, that my daughter would end up loving a son of Zeus, I’d have laughed and told you that she would marry him one day,” he said.

My brows crashed together as I tried hard to make sense of his words.

“You knew?” I finally asked.

At this, he met my gaze. “About you?” He laughed. “Furies, no. I think I’d have probably kidnapped you at best, eaten your soul at worst.”

A third voice interrupted before I could address that particular concern. “You knew about me, then? Who my father really was?”

Hades’ gaze flicked to Charon, who’d appeared seconds ago, crouched before me.

“The timing was suspicious, I’ll admit, but I trusted your mother⁠—”

“We both did,” Persephone interjected.

After a deep breath, Hades continued, “It wasn’t until you were grown that I knew for certain. You were very much your mother, which is why, I think, it took me so long. But you were equal parts Zeus, too. Equal parts Caelus,” he explained, nodding at me. “Which became more apparent every time we were required to visit Aetherion.”

Charon swallowed roughly. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Tears welled in his ghostly eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“To do so would have been to paint a target on your back, and therefore also on hers.” He tipped his chin toward Nyssa, stirring in my arms.

“It’s time, my love. We should go now, before she wakes and has to lose us all over again,” Persephone whispered, her voice catching on the last words. The goddess bent down, cupping her daughter’s cheek with one wispy hand. Her eyes dripped ghostly tears on Nyssa’s face, leaving no trace of ever having touched her in the first place. “Goodbye, daughter. I am so proud of you. You are exactly who I wished for when Fate gifted me a daughter. You are exactly what the realms need.”

Her startlingly familiar eyes pressed on me. “Tell her when she most needs to hear it.” Her green eyes hardened, her expression so Nyssa-like it was displacing. “Love her as she deserves to be loved. And if you cannot, let her go.”

“I could not stop loving her even if I tried. Even if I could somehow unbind our souls, I would not, for where she goes, I will follow. And when, one day, her heart stops beating, I take comfort in the fact that mine will too, so that it will never have to know even a beat without her in the world.”

Hades snorted — and I suddenly realised exactly where Nyssa had gotten her distinct laughter from. “My daughter and the prodigal prince of Olympus,” he mused. Suddenly, he threw his head back and howled. He clutched his ghostly belly in a fit of laughter so profound it ricocheted off the Styx, causing even Arch and Aph to raise their heads.

“If only Zeus knew!” He howled again. “He’d be livid!”

Despite myself, I chuckled. “Understatement of the century. He’d disown me.”

“Ugh, does that mean he’d have tried to claim me?” Charon grimaced.

“If he’d known about you before my mother killed him, you’d have been locked up in the palace right beside me.”

“Sadly, I’m relieved that he didn’t.”

Looking down, I smiled. “Me too. The thought of her facing all this alone…”

“Take good care of her,” Hades implored. “It took twelve of us to defeat Kronos last time. Something tells me it won’t be that easy this time.”

“I’ll guard her with my life,” I said, meaning every word like I hadn’t already done just that.

“And I with mine,” Evie added. “My brother, too.”

“And me,” Aphrodite added.

“Me as well,” Arch said, his voice cracking with fresh grief. “Though I haven’t the slightest who you’re talking to.”

“Hades and Persephone are here,” I explained. Three sets of eyes went wide as dinnerplates. “And Charon.”

“Char?!” Aphrodite leapt to her feet, eyes brimming with fresh tears. She rushed over, landing hard on her knees beside me. “Where is he?” she asked me.