Page 1 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
LARKSPUR
I needed to get the fuck out of there. It had been a week since the curse binding my sister to The Underworld had broken. A week of her wandering in the bloodthirsty Darklands of the north as an unawakened witch, unprotected and alone. I should’ve been there the moment she was free, but I was trapped in The Dark Palace with the one person I had considered a friend during my imprisonment in The Earth Coven. The only person I thought I could count on.
But I’d betrayed Persephone the moment I’d dragged her back to that scheming bitch, Demeter. Regardless of the two of us winning, I’d destroyed Persephone’s trust. I knew it was incredibly shitty of me to risk her life, but I had to. It was the only way to save Psyche. Still… the pain of my deception, the look of utter betrayal that had flashed across Persephone’s face when I used my power of compulsion on her… it had broken something between us and shattered whatever was left of my heart in the process.
Taking away someone’s choice was what entitled men like Hypnos did; they set an impossible game where they held all the cards and knew all the moves before they were played. The rest of us were herded through their game like sheep running from wolves, forced to live and die when they saw fit—forced to lose. Over and over again. Because even if I survived this, even if I managed to find Psyche and return her to The Realm of the Living, kill Hypnos, and carve out a glimpse of freedom for myself, the game of lies and deception—the labyrinth of life—had already claimed too much of my soul.
I was beyond saving, past the point of salvation, but I would see my sister safe.
“Morpheus can’t be trusted,” I seethed for what felt like the thousandth time. The black fabric of my cotton dress, cinched in at the waist by a slim, golden belt, billowed around me as I followed Persephone into the library. The dirt from my boots flaked off in small clumps with the force of my strides as I followed her into her favorite sitting room. “He’s the son of Hypnos, the god responsible for all the shit happening, for all the witches Demeter killed. He helped her steal Psyche and lock her up.”
“I’m aware, Lark.” Persephone sighed as she collapsed into a plush sitting chair near the edge of the room, snatching a book from a side table. The rich blue fabric of the chair matched the sofa across from it, both positioned before a grand window that stretched the length of the massive wall. Golden fabric hung down the sides, the shimmering curtains no doubt made from natural crushed gold somehow woven into these atrocities. I got that Hades was The Lord of The Underworld, home to riches beyond imagining, but did he need to flaunt it so obviously?
Every surface of the room was adorned with gems set among floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Books were stacked on one another in a wash of color; the array was made all the more dazzling by the reflected light of the setting sun shimmering over their spines. One could live a thousand lifetimes, forgoing all other obligations in favor of reading, and still never finish all the stories contained within these walls. It was grand, to be sure, but the thought that some voices would never be heard, some dreams never discovered… it was heartbreaking.
“If you’re aware, let me leave,” I said through clenched teeth, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably. Taking a deep breath, I carefully kept my voice light as I sat across from her. Her pale fingers pressed through her red curls to massage the side of her temple as I leaned back, acting as if sitting and doing nothing wasn’t killing me.
Persephone wasn’t a person who could be forced into doing something. Despite the beatings at Demeter’s hand and the near-constant verbal abuse, she still managed to hold onto a shred of kindness. Retaining softness in a world intent on sharpening us into weapons was admirable in a way, but it was also a vulnerability—one that could be exploited far too easily.
Part of that was my fault. I’d shielded her from the worst of things in The Earth Coven. My life was already fucked, but that didn’t mean hers needed to be, too. Persephone had been beaten physically, but there were other ways a body could be broken—A soul fractured. Unmentionable ways. I’d only been there a week when one of the green witches talked about slipping something in her evening tea. She was not yet sixteen.
Persephone shook her head. “Hecate will be back tonight with an update on the covens. With any luck, she’s heard word about Hypnos. Once he’s taken care of, it will be safer to move through The Underworld.”
“Safer for who?” I ground out, unable to conceal my frustration. “I’m fine risking my life to get to Psyche. I’ve been doing it since she was taken.”
“It’s not just your life at stake,” Persephone bit back. A faint flash of pink tinted her cheeks as she sat up, a sure sign I was getting to her more than she wanted to admit. “You had your reasons, Lark, but it looked like you were working with Demeter and Hypnos.”
“I wasn’t.” My boot tapped against the obsidian floors as I worked to keep my expression in check. “I fucked up, okay? But you know I’d never help that disgrace of a High Matriarch or the god who took Psyche.”
She held up a hand. “I know that, but we can't risk it with how powerful you are.”
“You mean Hades won’t allow it,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
Persephone leveled me with her own glare, her bright green eyes meeting my dark ones in a challenge. “This isn’t about Hades. It’s about what is best for the realms.”
“Please,” I snapped, rolling my eyes as I stood. Forcing myself to take another long breath, I paced the length of the window, my anger flaring each time the sun’s light reflected off the perfectly cut jewels’ surface and found my eyes.
For years, I’d been her protector, helping her escape the prison of our circumstances whenever possible, and now she thought of keeping me under lock and key. Bound to remain trapped and helpless in her husband’s palace?
I don’t fucking think so. Anger and reasoning hadn’t worked. Maybe begging would.
“You wouldn’t have to do anything,” I promised, dropping to my knees and gathering her hands in mine. She didn’t need to choose. If Persephone had only understood that she could keep her promise to Hades and that I could save my sister simultaneously, this would all be over. “You could say I compelled you?—”
“No,” She snapped, snatching her hands away from mine as if I’d stung her.
I blinked, confusion and hurt warring as fear flashed across her face. My stomach twisted, and I recoiled, retreating to the window. Persephone looked down, swallowing as she smoothed out her gown's white, silky fabric. When she glanced up again, a smile was in place, the same false one I’d taught her to use.
“I wouldn’t actually compel you,” I breathed, forcing the words out through the lump in my throat. I kept my gaze locked on the stretching fields of wildflowers visible through the glass, unable to stand another second of her polished mask. Staring past Elysium's colorful petals and swaying trees, I looked further toward the shrouded mountains—toward Hypnos’s realm—and cleared my throat. “I had to before. It was?—”
“For your sister,” Persephone finished softly, setting her book down before joining me at the window's edge. “I know.”
Biting my tongue against the urge to defend myself, I let my dark umber curls fall forward, not wanting her to see the hurt in my eyes. I hardly ever showed emotion. If someone understood how you thought for even a moment, you were left open to an attack forever.
I was good at building walls and talented at keeping people away because I knew if someone ever managed to carve their way into my heart, they would realize just how hollowed I’d become—how dark this endless chasm was. It felt like a single candle was left inside me, fighting for a chance at life, but sometimes, I found myself wondering when the last gust would blow and extinguish all of this forever.
“Don’t do that,” Persephone said, glancing my way as she started to pace. It was a habit she’d picked up from me years ago.
“I’m not doing anything,” I mumbled. It was no use explaining. Persephone either understood why I risked everything for my sister, or she didn’t. I would’ve done the same for her. “You want me to wait until Hypnos is caught or at least located, and then travel through The Underworld with his son as I search for my sister, who is no doubt already traumatized.”
A harsh, bitter laugh fell from my lips as she stilled, but this time, I didn’t look away from the fire in her gaze, daring her to meet the ire in mine. “Morpheus really has you believing he’s turned on his father. It’s foolish to trust him, but you’re the queen?—”
“Yes,” Persephone snapped, fists clenching as her cheeks flushed. “ I’m the Queen of the Underworld, Lark. I must think about all the souls that cross into this realm and the state of the Earth Coven in the realm above. Hypnos hasn’t been found, but he’s clever and malicious. We need someone who understands him—who can figure out his next move before he makes it. And Morpheus has proven loyal.”
I lifted a brow as I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. Her nostrils flared.
“I understand your need to save Psyche.”
“Clearly, you don’t?—”
“You used me,” Persephone cut in, her voice breaking around the word as her eyes blazed. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a sister, but even after that, after everything you put me through, I can empathize with how fucked up the situation was. Can you, Lark?”
Ignoring the heavy weight in my stomach and the prick of something that felt far too similar to shame, I leaned into my anger, letting my rage and endless fury drown out all the rest.
She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. I’d spent years of my life protecting Persephone. Letting them slice bits and pieces of what remained of me away so that she was shielded from the worst of it. Now, I was powerful enough to compel all of them to jump off a cliff, but then… It had taken every scrap of my magic to make them believe I was her as they held me down.
“Yes,” I said, my voice trembling as tears threatened. “I can understand caring for people who will never fully grasp the extent of the sacrifices you’ve made. And as much as it hurts, you don’t want them to comprehend everything you’ve given up. Because it would break them.”
Persephone’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but I turned away, afraid she’d already seen too much. Choking down the bile singeing the back of my throat, I stuffed all that rage and pain back into the recesses of my vacant heart. This wasn’t a battle I would win. Better a retreat than a loss.
“I didn’t mean to add to your stress, Lady Persephone,” I spoke to the ground, pausing in the doorframe. “I’ll wait for Hecate’s return in my room.”
“Lark,” she said, but I was out the door before she could stop me.