Page 15 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)

MORPHEUS

C louds thickened as we progressed north, hiding the midday sun and allowing my little monster to sleep. She thought searching for Hypnos was her idea, unable to know that I’d already promised Hades my help.

Despite the already long evening, Hecate had insisted on hatching a plan once The Olympians had taken their leave. Persephone’s vines faded as a soft, golden glow took their place, healing all that had been destroyed in the rash display of power. If Zeus hadn’t been paranoid before, he certainly was now.

This war should’ve been extinguished from the start but it had been ignited and fed by Zeus’s jealousy. At this point, the only way to prevent The Underworld from falling was to cut the head off the snake. And who better to do that than the snake’s son?

I’d planned on telling her. There had already been enough untruths between us, but gods below had she looked at me with such loathing when I’d found her dashing through Elysium. Her entire presence in The Underworld was for one thing—to see her sister safe. The thought alone felt like a dagger to my chest. I couldn’t let her know that her quest had been further delayed. If she knew the safety of her only living family was rendered to just another overlooked task with little to no priority, it would break her—or unleash a wave of wrath I was unwilling to tempt.

Larkspur deserved to be seen . She should be respected and listened to. I didn’t want to be another person to let her down in life, and yet I couldn’t help but think that’s what awaited us.

Me, the pathetic prince. And her, the neglected queen.

What a pair we made. With a sigh, I banked left, circling the lake's edge. Vast mountain ranges ebbed as the thick pine forests gave way to stony banks, the edges long since smoothed by the harsh streams that bore them south. The lake itself was frigid, but hot springs lurked along the tree line, nestled in great caverns said to be heated by the wrath of the titans trapped deep below.

Lord Hades and The Olympians would have us believe they were tucked safely in the pit of Tartarus, but how vast was their prison? And how long could beings such as them be contained?

Shaking off the feeling of dread, I focused on the scent rising from the rippling banks of the Moros River, now tinged with sweat, blood, and sex as we neared our destination.

I spotted a long braid of auburn hair and sapphire eyes waiting for us. She wore the same style of clothes she had in life: a loose, cream dress. The sleeveless gown was adorned with a violet cloth cinched around her waist, and golden sandals wound up her calves, visible through the long slits nearly reaching her navel. Megara.

I dropped lower as Larkspur started to stir, fixing an arrogant smile on my face when Megara’s sapphire eyes found mine. She’d been through so much during her time in The Realm of The Living. It wasn’t fair I was planning on leaving the promise of war at her feet.

My little monster yawned, nuzzling into my chest as if my body and scent were comforts. Her hand slipped beneath the ties of my tunic, the soft pads of her fingers exploring the hard planes of my chest.

A deep rumble shook my chest as warmth stirred lower, causing her waking body to tense. “No need to be ashamed, my little monster. In sleep, we can take anything we desire without the burden of guilt.”

Her fingers curved inward, the sharp prick of nails digging into my skin. I sucked in a sharp breath, gripping her tighter as if I might be able to convince her to continue. To dig out my rotting heart and be done with it.

“I do not desire you,” Larkspur hissed, her breath fanning my neck. “I never will.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Her nails flexed, drawing a hiss from my lips, before she withdrew them, finally seeming to realize we were descending. “Where are we?”

“North of The Lethe, along the eastern edge of my father’s territory.” I glanced down, watching as Larkspur stared at her bloodied nails, tracking a large drop of my blood as it splashed onto her cloak. “Drink up, little monster. You need to keep your strength.”

She shot me a glare, making a point of wiping off every last drop on my tunic. My eyes narrowed, knowing that she needed to feed.

“You will have to play the part of my loving partner while we’re here.” I spoke low and quick as we descended, making sure Megara wouldn’t overhear.

“Why?” she asked, eyes narrowing as she glanced from me to the ground. The cave entrance was visible now, with couples and groups making their way in. “What is this place?”

I smiled, unable to help the way excitement gripped me. I wanted to show Larkspur all the pieces of me, and even though this was one that fit my flippant party boy persona on the outside, it was important she started to see below the surface.

“Get ready, little monster. We’re about to enter the lion’s den.”

Larkspur

G ods below, did Morpheus’s blood smell sweet, like the finest ambrosia crafted just to tempt me. I’d almost done it. Almost licked the sticky sweetness of his blood from the tips of my fingers, knowing if being fed on had felt that electric, then consuming his essence would be life-altering. Somehow, I found the strength to resist.

Morpheus had bitten me. He’d taken one of the only things I had left to give and claimed it as his own. I understood why he’d had to do it. Part of me was even grateful that he’d been the first to bite me rather than letting Poseidon get his disgusting hands all over me, but it still hurt being reminded that I was helpless to protect myself. That I was seen as an object to be used and discarded when done.

“Little monster,” Morpheus whispered, more breath than words as we landed. “Look at me.”

Smooth rocks along the lake shifted under his boots. He held me still, his arms feeling soft and strong all at once. It was too nice. Too gentle. I knew how to handle pain and fear. How to deal with lust and greed… but kindness? That was far too disconcerting.

Not daring to meet his gaze, I shoved from his arms, barely catching myself on wobbly legs. Morpheus’s hands were at my waist, the warmth of his touch searing despite the brisk, overcast day.

Inhaling deeply, I tilted my head to the side, finding a woman along the edge of the trees. The sweet scent of blood was cut by the sharpness of sweat and sex. I sucked in a breath, realizing where he’d taken me.

“You are strong, little monster.” I glanced up, unable to resist the silky smoothness of his voice. His golden eyes blazed through me, seeing far more than I wanted them to. “You know The Night Children are vicious, and the place we are about to enter is no different.”

“It’s The Playground for Dark Ones?” I swallowed, biting out the question even though I knew the answer.

“That’s right,” Morpheus nodded, leaning down as his breath caressed my ear. His hands were still on my waist, the gentle pressure holding me up.

Gods, I needed to eat. My magic had healed me as much as possible, but I needed blood.

“While we are here, you are mine.”

I narrowed my eyes, pulling back as I stared up at him. “Why would I agree to that?”

His lips twitched, his body shifting until he guided me across the stones toward the woman on the forest's edge. She was beautiful. Her auburn hair was woven in a long braid down her back, and the thin fabric wrapped across the curves of her body left little to the imagination, but there was a vast sadness in her deep, blue eyes.

“It’s nice to see you again, Lord Morpheus.” She dipped her head in a show of respect as we neared. “I’m Megara,” she said, offering me a small smile before returning to Morpheus. “We’ve been expecting you for some time.”

Morpheus stiffened, and when I dared a glance up, I found nothing but cold fury burning in his golden eyes. He managed to smile somehow, the tilt of his lips more menacing than inviting, like a cobra poised to strike.

“Yes,” Morpheus said, voice laced with venom. “My visit to The Southern Faction has been long since overdue. Thanatos briefed me on the state of things, and I must admit I was horrified to hear the details.”

Megara flinched, squeezing her hands as she dropped her gaze. “Yes, we have much to catch up on. Am I correct in assuming you will not require a source tonight?”

“Correct,” Morpheus replied, his hand wrapping around my waist. “Larkspur will be accompanying me tonight.”

“Exclusive?” Megara asked him before her gaze flicked to mine. “Or would you prefer to be open?”

Morpheus's body went rigid as she waited for my answer. His hand tightened around my waist, and I could practically taste the retort poised on his tongue, but Megara’s gaze never wavered from mine. She must have realized I didn’t know what they were talking about because after a moment, she added, “If you remain exclusive to Lord Morpheus, others won’t be allowed to feed from you.”

“No one will be feeding from me,” I snapped, looking between them and then toward the winding path behind her that no doubt led to The Playground.

Megara glanced toward Morpheus but decided not to press the matter after another look at the scowl brimming on my face.

“Right. I can see you have matters to discuss. I’ll have your outfits prepared and waiting in your suite, Lord Morpheus. Golden armor is our theme tonight.” With one last curious glance my way, she turned and disappeared into the forest.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I rounded on Morpheus, using all my remaining strength to put as much bite into my words as possible. “I am not going into The Dark Ones’ Playground with you, and I sure as shit am not putting on some outfit for you to parade me around in. Unless you think there’s a remote possibility of my sister being here, I insist we leave.”

His lips twitched as if everything I said was amusing. “Megara is an esteemed leader among The Southern Faction. The Playground is the perfect place for gossip to spread.

“ Gossip ?” I snapped. “You’re wasting our time on ideal chatter?”

“Yes, dear Larkspur. Many truths can be found in passing. If anyone has heard of a collection of warriors being offered positions, or say, a living soul wandering The Underworld in The Darklands, this is the place they would share such information.”

Psyche. This could be the first real lead.

“Besides,” Morpheus continued, his entire demeanor shifting as he rolled his neck. When he stared ahead once more, the charismatic prince who never took anything seriously was gone, replaced by a cold, calculated predator. “I have matters to attend to.”