I started to shake. I didn’t want to be scared. Where was that strength and courage I’d felt earlier? I wanted to be the one who faced Fate with her head high, but I was scared. I knew there was no coming back from this. I would never see my father, my friends, or Aiden again. My breath caught again, and each time I took a breath, I feared it would be the last one. “Don’t leave me. Please? I don’t want to be by myself.”
“You’re not.” Seth slipped his arms around me, holding me close. “You’re not alone.” His tears were mingled with mine. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone, Angel. I promise you. You’ll never—”
I took a breath and never heard his next words. There was a harsh expletive from Seth, and then the world ended for me on the heels of a burst of beautiful bright sunlight.
CHAPTER 26
Dying the second time was nothing like the first time. When I opened my eyes, I knew I was in the Underworld, and I knew I was dead. Not like when I was stabbed by Linard. Nope. I was as dead as everyone else around me.
I also didn’t end up on the banks of Styx waiting for Charon with all the other dead folks; there would’ve been a lot of them there after all the fighting.
My death was just all kinds of special.
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in the middle of Hades’ palace. There had been no pain, no feeling of suffocation—a blink of an eye and my life was over and I was staring at the translucent, shimmery dress of Persephone.
The first things I saw upon dying were Persephone’s breasts and nipples. Or at least one nipple, but there was definitely a nipple.
Something seemed wrong about that being the first thing I saw in the afterlife.
I was too dumbstruck by the whole dying thing to do or say much of anything. Hades was already back, and when Persephone dropped her arm over my shoulders, I was too out of it to be freaked out about her being so close to me.
“Where’s Apollo?” I asked, because I wanted to see him, needed to see him.
The arrogance that was typically present on Hades’ face was gone as he shook his head. “He will come when he can.”
I didn’t like that answer. Apollo should be here, not Hades. Apollo had promised to take care of me, but I had ended up dead in Hades’ palace, staring at Persephone’s nipples. This was not what I’d expected when he’d sworn to make sure I was okay.
Hades strolled up to me and clasped my cheeks. I flinched out of habit. “You did an amazing thing today. We will forever be in your debt.”
I jumped on that. “Then bring me back to life.”
He shook his head and smiled sadly. “I cannot grant such things.”
So I jumped on it again. “Then release Aiden from his promise.”
And he shook his head once more. “I cannot grant that either, Love.”
“You can’t do anything?” I demanded. “You’re a god and you’re—”
“It all is done, Alexandria. It is over.” Looking at his wife, he nodded. “Take her to her final resting place.”
Her final resting place?
I shuddered.
Yep, that sounded just as disturbing as one would think.
Persephone ushered me out the back of the palace, and at first I was absolutely stunned by what I saw. It wasn’t like any part of the Underworld I’d seen before.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Persephone asked. “This is the beginning of Elysian Fields, and it goes as far as the eyes can see. Like Tartarus, it is ever-changing, fitting to each person’s version of paradise.”
Elysian Fields was…it was striking, and it looked so real, so normal, that my heart ached at the sight. The sky was beautiful—cloudless blue and bright. The air was warm, and the light scent of jasmine reminded me of…
I didn’t let myself finish that thought.
“Your paradise will be what you decide, Alexandria, and you can share it with others,” Persephone explained as I stared over the lush rolling hills and, beyond, the rooftops of many homes. In the valley below, the tips of exotic-looking trees swayed, playing peekaboo with crystal clear waters below them. “It will be your choice.”
My choice?
My choice had been not to die.
Persephone took my hand, and the ground seemed to swallow us up. A second later, we were standing in an empty field cluttered with white and yellow daisies.
“This will be your paradise,” she said, and vanished.
And that was…that. She’d left me in an empty field.
I stood there for an ungodly amount of time, until the sky overhead started to darken and tiny, brilliant stars appeared to blanket the deep blue of night. I learned a couple of things about being dead during that time.
My lungs worked like they had when I was alive, because I kept feeling the air catch in my throat. I could still cry, because quiet tears tracked my cheeks. I’d always though the sobbing, body-shaking tears were the worst, but I was wrong. Quiet tears fell in a way that scarred my soul and seemed to never end.
I’d also learned that, in death, I could still feel lonely.
But finally, after what already felt like an eternity, I found my paradise. I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stop, and for some reason, I thought about Deity Island, of the rolling waves and the clean, warm sand. In my head, I heard the seagulls and felt the wet spray of the ocean against my cheeks. And I thought of the small but perfect cottage that had sat at the edge of the marsh.
Opening my eyes, I let out a little yelp of surprise.
I was back in North Carolina. I had to be, because the ocean rolled calmly before me, its waves a deep, dark blue in the night, and sand was under my feet. I could smell the marsh and feel the dampness on my cheeks. I spun around and cried out when I saw the cottage—a light was on in the window, glowing a soft yellow. I took off, slipping over the sand at breakneck speed. The door was unlocked, and the wood was warm and real, so real, in my hand. I threw the door open and realized that, even dead, my heart beat in my chest like I’d downed a gallon of energy drinks.
Upon seeing the living room, I pressed a hand to my chest. It was exactly how I remembered: a small, efficient kitchen to the right, a large couch and TV, and very minimal design. In a daze, I walked back the short, narrow hall, passing a bathroom and then entering into the spacious bedroom.
The bed was his—the black sheets, the pillows, and the scent of the sea and something earthy, of burning leaves and man.
But he wasn’t here.
Because he was alive and I, well, I was dead.
I spent hours in that bedroom, soaking up his scent, before I pulled myself away. I opened the back door at the end of the hall and saw the garden—an exact replica of the one on Deity Island, the very one where I had met Grandma Piperi.
Ripe blossoms and rich soils, trees I couldn’t begin to even name, and enough flowers to start a botanical garden. There was even an old stone bench.
I turned back around, staring at the cottage.
Once I’d found my paradise and the sun came back up the following day, the others around me had become visible—houses and apartment buildings of all different sizes, farms, and sprawling cities. And sunny palm trees and snow-capped mountaintops. It was a smorgasbord of every place in the world.
But that wasn’t all.
Paradise was simplistic, centering around needs but not wants. Over the course of time that seemed longer than normal days and nights, I learned how paradise operated.
What you needed, you got. It was as simple as that.
If I needed to be hungry, I would be hungry. And if I needed a juicy steak, it would simply appear after closing my eyes. If I didn’t need to eat, there were no stomach pains. If I needed to wear jeans or a dress, all I had to do was open the closet, and there they would be.