Bride of Fire

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copyright 2009 Charlene Teglia – All rights reserved

She was light. He was darkness. She could never be his. Hades, Lord of the Underworld, curled his hands into fists as he watched her.

Persephone, daughter of Demeter. Hair as golden as the sun he never felt the heat of, eyes as blue as the sky he could not stand beneath, body as ripe as the fields she ran across. She was everything forbidden to him. She belonged to the world above, the realm of light. The realm of life. He’d never coveted that realm. He had his own, and he ruled it absolutely. But he coveted her.

His kingdom offered him everything. Power, companions, riches. Any pleasure he desired. If he wished for a thing, it was his. He was lord here, his word inviolable. But his kingdom had no queen.

He had everything…except her.

She had everything…except a lover. As days became months, he watched and he wanted and he waited for her to reveal her choice with bitter jealousy eating at his heart, but Persephone remained alone. She came to this field in Enna to gather flowers to please herself, not to wind in her long hair to prepare herself for a man she desired.

She was alone, as he was alone. She was too closely guarded to be anything else. Guarded everywhere but here, where the landscape itself guarded her.

And so, at last, he had prepared a flower for her. A special blossom, so rare she’d never have seen its like; she could not have. No other existed. Like him, it was alone of its kind.

It would bloom only for her. It would tempt her, as she tempted him. She would not be able to resist it. She would pluck it from the earth.

Then he would take her.