Macaria

A sip of Ambrosia, or Nectar, and I'd be fine. Fuck it hurt.

Zagreus was collapsed on the floor, cold sweating and breathing hard.

Persephone had lost the grip on the knife.

She was glaring at me. "What do you even think you're doing!" she yelled.

"Saving you from yourself," I whispered.

She pushed herself up from the floor. I kicked the knife away from her and under a couch.

Persephone looked at me.

"I'm not sorry," I said. "Zeus is on the way."