Desperate Housewives of Olympus Read Online Free PDF Page A

baby heart would be a woman’s that yearned for things as a woman does. When she reached out to take them, Demeter would die. She’d kept Persephone weak—dependant—as long as she could. Demeter had kept her afraid of men, afraid of what happened between men and women.
    Yet, the bastard had gentled her.
    Hades, the dark and violent Master of the Dead who struck fear into the hearts of mortals and gods alike had treated her virgin daughter softly, carefully. What turned her stomach the most was that he had loved her—thoroughly. Centuries he’d waited for Persephone’s heart to melt for him and his patience had paid off. When she’d been ready to submit to him, that was when Demeter knew she had to do something.
    Demeter had prayed every night to the powers greater than herself, although she knew not what those were, that Hades would kill her. She’d been on her knees fervently hoping against hope he’d only taken her in some plot to twist his brother around to his will and when Zeus didn’t comply, Persephone’s death would be his punishment.
    That was too easy for Fate. It would have wrapped up all of her angst in one neat little package and tossed it out of her extended existence. No, of all the stupid cow-eyed girls to soften the Lord of the Underworld, it had been her whey-faced daughter and her golden hair.
    Demeter hated her. Every breath she took was one that she’d stolen from Demeter. When the girl had been sobbing in her arms after her ordeal, Demeter had comforted her. She’d petted her hair and stroked her back while Persephone wailed into her lap until her voice had failed her and the well of her tears had run dry. In that moment, she’d known peace such as she hadn’t felt since before Persephone had been born.
    Demeter wondered if her own mother had felt such hatred for her and if she had, she’d decided she couldn’t blame her. It was all a big act, the overprotective mother shielding her little girl from the lusty ways of gods and men. She stared across the yard at the one god who might possibly be able to figure out her secret if he looked close enough.
    Eros, the God of Love.
    He could see what love lay in the hearts of beings and if he looked into her heart, all he would see was the dark blanket of the love Demeter had for herself.
    He’d been coming every night to read poetry in secret to Persephone. But secrets were relative. Eros was sadly mistaken if he thought anything happened in her temple she didn’t know about, but she didn’t want to antagonize him just yet for fear he might decide to take a good long look in the depths of her heart. He’d find it black as Tartarus and just as cold.
    Eros wasn’t at all what one would expect from the God of Love. He was shy and reserved, quiet. He was a measure twice, cut once sort of person and that was a quality Demeter respected. She also knew he was a virgin, so she had little fear he was bent on seducing Persephone. That was the bitch of it when one could see into the depths of a person’s heart; all of the dark little secrets are shoved into the light of day and melt through the veneer of affection like a splash of boiling grease on styrofoam.
    It would make sense he wanted to be around Persephone, Demeter had kept her heart pure like brand new white linen sheets. Anything she felt for Hades was pure too. It would be pink and clean with the sweetness like that of a crisp apple. Yes, while he read her poetry, he wouldn’t seek to despoil her. After all, she was the only one of them who wasn’t rotten in some way. Aphrodite had told her long ago that Eros had learned at a young age not to look too closely unless he really wanted to see.
    And he’d seen more in these long centuries than any of them. Eros was a reserved and quietly stoic creature. Demeter didn’t think that made him weak though. She knew the power of Love was strong. It could drive anyone to great heights of self-sacrifice or equally dark depths of depravity. She