Member-only story
There’s Always a Price to Pay
Persephone knew this, but it was too late to go back.
His cool fingertips trailed down her neck and along her spine. Her flare-bright skin made his every touch feel icy. That was just the way it was as spring neared and the frost thawed. He knew he couldn’t keep her for long.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” he asked, his voice dull as if any show of emotion might in some way betray him.
“You always ask that,” she said chidingly, glancing back at him, but he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Because I always worry,” he said softly.
Any other time, she might have kissed away his insecurities — anything to distract him from the nearing day when she would depart for another six months to help the mortal world ensure a bountiful harvest. Her mother would let her play at being queen of the underworld, but her real duties — according to her mother — would always revolve around being the goddess of spring.
“Don’t you think we’d grow tired of each other?” she asked aloud. “If I was here year-round, you might come to take me for granted.”
“Never,” he said.
And at that she smiled. “So you say,” she replied, though she knew her husband was never one for lying. His brothers had far more aptitude in…
