Aimee Carter - Goddess of the Underworld

Select Praise for Aimée Carter’s The Goddess Test series

“The narrative is well executed, and Kate is a heroine better equipped than most to confront and cope with the inexplicable.”

–Publishers Weekly on The Goddess Test

“Carter’s writing is a delight to read–succinct, clean, descriptive. Goddess Interrupted is definitely a page-turner, one full of suspense, heartbreak, confusion, frustration and yes, romance.” –YA Reads on Goddess Interrupted

Also by Aimée Carter

The Goddess Test Novels in reading order:

THE GODDESS TEST

“The Goddess Hunt” (ebook)

GODDESS INTERRUPTED

and the upcoming

THE GODDESS INHERITANCE

www.miraink.co.uk

For Carrie Harris, who is one of a kind,

brilliantly hilarious,

and knows just what to say to vanquish the crazies.

JUICES.

For the first sixteen years of my life, Mother told me my wedding day would be one of the happiest in my eternal existence. That the birds would sing, the air would smell like flowers and the sun would shine. Every last detail would be perfect.

Like an idiot, I’d believed her.

The sun didn’t shine in hell, and unless bats counted, there weren’t any birds in the endless Underworld palace, either. To make things worse, the infinite rock surrounding the cavern weighed down on me, growing heavier with every passing second. I was trapped, literally and figuratively. And I had no idea how to dig myself out of this one.

Mother did manage to keep her word about the flowers, though. As I paced from one end of the chamber to the other, eleven steps in each direction, I had to zigzag my way around the endless bunches of wildflowers that covered every available surface. The perfume was strong enough to knock out Cerberus, but at least it didn’t smell like death.

“Persephone?” Mother poked her head into the room. Given the way she glowed, I would’ve guessed this was her wedding, not mine. “It’s time. How are you feeling?”

She knew exactly how I felt about all of this. She didn’t want the truth—she wanted false affirmation that I was as happy as she was. “I don’t want to do this,” I said. No use holding back now.

“Sweetheart,” said Mother in a tone she must have thought was understanding, but was really the same one she’d used to convince me to do this in the first place. She stepped inside the chamber and closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I don’t want to marry Hades.” Searching for a place to sit, I spotted a chair in the flowered jungle, but a bouquet of purple blossoms already claimed it. I huffed and sank to the floor instead. “You told me the Underworld wasn’t so bad.”

“It isn’t.” She knelt beside me. “You’ve only seen the palace. There’s an entire world out there—”

“It feels like a cage. It’s heavy and unnatural and—I want to stay in Olympus with you. ” My voice hitched, and I blinked rapidly. Breaking into tears would’ve been a surefire way to make Mother believe I was simply too emotional to think clearly. I’d never thought more clearly in my life, though.

Mother wrapped her arms around me, and for a moment I allowed myself to lean against her. “You’ve known this was coming for a long time, my darling. I would never allow this if I wasn’t absolutely certain you would love him.”

“But I don’t.” Didn’t she understand that?

“You will, in time.”

“What if I never do?”

“Persephone, look at me.” She tilted my head upward, and my eyes met hers. “You will. Trust me.” Her confidence should’ve sparked the same in me, but I was empty. “I’ll come visit you all the time. This is the beginning of the rest of your life, not the end.”

She was wrong—it was the end of everything that mattered. The end of days picking flowers and soaking in the sunlight, the end of nights sitting in her lap as she told me stories. A deep ache filled me, and I swallowed hard. No crying. Not today.

“I am so proud to call you my daughter,” she murmured. “Eventually you will understand why I asked this of you. In time, you will be happier here with Hades than you could ever be with me in Olympus.”

Mother had never been so wrong so many times in a row before. I couldn’t be happy, not in this underground cavern. Not without the sun. Not without her.

“Hades loves you already, my darling. He is quiet, and he doesn’t love out loud like you may be used to, but that doesn’t make his love any less strong. You’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Reluctantly I nodded. I’d seen it, that piercing stare when he thought I wouldn’t notice. The way his eyes seemed to follow me as I moved across the room. Not in a predatory way, but as if he was concerned. As if he cared. Maybe he secretly wasn’t crazy about this whole thing, either.

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” she murmured. “Do you trust me to want only the best for you?”

I loved her. I trusted her. And her pride filled me in a way I was certain Hades’s so-called love never could. But maybe she was right—maybe in time I would love him. Maybe if this wasn’t an arranged marriage, I would’ve loved him anyway. But she and my father had stolen that chance from me.

“You’ll find happiness here,” she said. “You’ll find your purpose, and I will never be far. We all have roles in our lives, Persephone—roles we may not initially enjoy, but roles we soon realize are necessary. You were born to do this, my darling, and Hades loves you. Trust me when I say that. I love you too much to ever allow anyone to hurt you, including myself.”

I swallowed. She did love me. Out of everything in the world, that was the one thing I knew to be completely, unequivocally true. And because of that, I let her help me up, my legs unsteady beneath me.

“My beautiful girl. The love of my life.” She plucked a purple blossom from the bouquet in the chair and secured it in my curls. Strawberry-blond now, as autumn set in. “You are perfect.”

I ached to believe her, but as she led me into an antechamber, a melody from the strings of Apollo’s lute filtered through the air. And instead of reminding me of harmony and love, the notes were mournful to my ear, fitting perfectly with the bleakness of this realm.

This wasn’t my wedding. It was my funeral.