Page 16 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)

LARKSPUR

T he air was warmer underneath the surface. We’d been brought to Morpheus’s suite and offered refreshments before the rest of the day unfolded. And gods, was the food and drinks wonderful.

“She’ll need something to drink tonight,” Morpheus told Megara. I was only half listening to their conversation as I helped myself to the small plate of lemon scones. Gods below they were delicious.

She raised a brow, looking between the two of us as Morpheus’s shoulders tensed.

“Are you talking about me?” I asked, but Megara turned back to Morpheus before she spoke again.

“I thought you would’ve taken care of those needs.”

“She’s made it clear I’m not to her taste.”

Megara’s eyes flew wide as mine narrowed. Popping the last bite of lemon deliciousness into my mouth, I stalked closer to the pair. I’d been prepared for a fight, as I always was, but Morpheus appeared more uncomfortable than anything as I drew near. I held my tongue, watching as he swallowed, looking as if the next words were ripped from his throat. He didn’t meet my eyes once.

“Be sure she has her choice of the group.”

“What choice?”

“But I don’t want her preyed upon.”

“If the ‘her’ in this scenario is me, then I can speak for myself. And defend myself,” I added after they shared a loaded look. I opened my mouth to tell them I’d rather crawl through Tartarus barefoot than get tangled up in a feeding frenzy at The Dark Ones’ Playground but was interrupted by a soft rapping.

Megara opened the door, murmuring her thanks as she took a small bundle of golden clothes. Crossing my arms over my chest, I planted my feet in the boots and looked at the scraps with disdain.

“I’m not wearing those.”

The cocky smirk Morpheus shot my way as he headed for the door had my blood boiling. “I’ll see you out there, little monster. And remember, there’s a dress code here.”

And then he was gone, leaving me to battle it out with Megara.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a safety precaution. Gold signifies one who prefers to bite, and silver is for those who wish to be bitten.”

She handed me a narrow strip of golden material. Reluctantly, I took it, holding it up to my chest to find it somehow fitted to my breasts perfectly, though the skirt she’d laid out looked barely long enough to cover my ass.

“Isn’t there a golden set of pants I could wear?”

“There are armbands,” she grinned. “Made from the same light metal fabric as the rest of the ensemble, and a mask that must be worn at all times. Those who come to The Playground do so to lose themselves.”

My fingers trailed over the thin fabric mask covered in dozens of citrine jewels, the spiked edges intricate, beautiful in a deadly sort of way.

“Fine,” I breathed. “But I’m keeping my boots,” I added, realizing just how much skin I’d be displaying in this ridiculous outfit.

“Agreed,” Megara said, facing away to grant me a moment of privacy as I turned.

“The Playground seems like a popular place,” I hedged, the faint traces of music audible from here. Knowing I wouldn’t get another chance alone with Megara to ask questions, I wanted to tread carefully.

“It is,” she agreed, not bothering to elaborate.

“Popular enough for gods to visit?” I pushed, slipping into the skirt. The chill grazing the underside of my ass confirmed I’d been right about the length.

“Sometimes,” Megara confirmed, again content with a minimal answer. Gritting my teeth, I decided to go for it.

“Do you ever have mortals here?”

She shrugged, folding my cloak and setting it on the cushion of the tall-backed chair set before a low table. “Mortal souls are welcome once they’ve been reborn into Elysium or The Asphodel Plains, as per Lord Hades’ rule.”

“Right, but those souls are already dead,” I said, glancing in the mirror. The fabric felt like silk but looked like the finest metal, hugging my curves perfectly. I was so entranced that I hadn’t noticed Megara’s approach.

“That’s what you smell of,” she breathed, inches away from my face. Her eyes rolled back as she inhaled deeply. “Life.”

Heart hammering, I stumbled back. Reaching instinctually for my dagger but finding it tucked within my now neatly folded cloak.

“Don’t bother,” Megara laughed, waving me off as if the notion of stabbing her was hilarious. “I’m already dead, remember?”

“Souls can die again,” I threatened. “If the death is gruesome enough, it can earn you another trip to The Lethe.”

A spark flashed in Megara’s eyes, one born of longing and fear, but it had vanished in the next moment. “Lucky for me, I’m not a Child of the Night, but I advise you to keep that knowledge to yourself. You smell different, but I doubt anyone will realize why. After all, they’ve never met a mortal. And you can’t crave what you don’t know.”

I blinked as she turned, waiting for me at the door. Taking my time lacing up my boots, I mulled over what she said. “You can’t crave what you don’t know .”

“I’m the first living soul you’ve met in The Underworld?” I asked, reaching for the armbands, knowing they could be used as a weapon.

“No weapons,” Megara chided, seeming to read my thoughts as I reached for my dagger. “You can wear the cloak, but this is where we step away from battle and wars. I won’t have you jeopardizing the fragile peace we’ve managed to cultivate.”

Muttering a half-hearted protest, I abandoned my blade and started down the hall after her.

“And yes, you are the first mortal I’ve seen in over a century.”

A weight dropped into my stomach. That meant she hadn’t seen Psyche, but maybe Megara could provide ideas on where to search for her.

“Hypnos seems to be causing quite the problem in The Realm of The Living,” I said, watching for her reaction as I tried again to learn what she might have heard.

“Is that so?” Nothing. Megara kept walking as if I’d remarked on the muddy red-brown color of the floors.

“That’s what I heard,” I continued, trying for an off-handed tone. I could’ve tried persuasion, but something told me this woman wouldn’t take kindly to bewitchment. “Rumor has it he’s also the reason for much suffering in The Underworld. That he may have taken souls hostage in the last few years while planning this war.”

“This is The Darklands.” Megara shrugged. “Lord Hades did what he could, but before death magic was balanced, we were left to The Slumber King’s rule. Souls were often collected.”

“Collected?” I asked, keeping pace with her. Steam swirled up from dozens of small hot springs as we passed, the pools giving way to large caves coated in shimmering gems. Small clusters of dark ones spotted the edges, the crowds growing thicker as we continued.

“Some for war, some for leverage.” Megara’s voice dipped as the sounds of bodies and music rose, seeming to grow heavier as a weariness settled over her. “I like to think he granted some the release of The Lethe, though most were said to travel to the west.”

Candles flickered as we delved deeper until we reached an expansive cavern where the sounds of bodies and instruments hummed. Music thundered through the vast space—violins and pianos creating a symphony for The Dark Ones to dance to. Everywhere bodies were swaying, golden attire glinting in the dim light. The sweet, coaxing scent of blood was everywhere, nearly as powerful as the smell of sex.

Couples were fucking openly on the dance floor, one partner bending, exposing their ass for one, and their mouth used by another. Some were grouped, one collection of feeders and dark ones so tangled it looked like a web of blood and bodies gasping in pleasure.

“West where?” I asked, having to shout over the noise.

“Welcome to The Playground,” Megara said, ignoring my question as she held out a golden necklace for me to take.

A few of The Night Children closest to us noted her voice. Hungry eyes snapped toward us as I clutched my cloak tighter despite the heat emanating from the writhing bodies. Where the fuck was Morpheus?

“I know you stated you didn’t want anyone to feed from you,” Megara said, stepping closer to keep the conversation between us despite the prying eyes. “But, as you can see, things can get a little hazy here.”

My fists clenched as a lecture rose to my lips about consent, but she shook her head before I could start.

“Consent is of the utmost importance.” Something in her eyes turned sad. “At least, it is as long as I’m here. But by entering, you’re granting permission to join the feeding. You’ll get approached unless you’re claimed.”

I lifted a brow, glancing toward the necklace. She held it up, asking for permission to fasten it around my throat. It was a small circle of gold with a jewel obsidian dangling from the center.

“A collar?” I huffed incredulously. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I won’t force this on you,” Megara said. “But every soul in this place has reviewed and agreed to certain experiences. Based on your previous comment, I assumed you would like to refrain from participation, but I’m happy to review terms if?—”

“No,” I cut in, watching as a female feeder was shared between five men—one for each arm and leg, and the other looking as if he were feeding from between her legs, lapping at her pussy as the blood from his bite mingled with her slickness. “I won’t be participating tonight.”

The words were harsher than I intended, sounding like I was trying to convince myself of their truth. I wasn’t a bashful person, but the moans escaping her, the way her body collapsed from her first orgasm and then started heating from the next one already building as the men cradled her—worshiped her—gods below, did it look intoxicating.

“None will bother you while you wear Morpheus’s collar. You retain the right to refuse any contact without it, of course, but it does make it easier for those here to spot. Dark Ones are in place along the periphery to ensure everyone’s safety, should you need help.” I followed her gestures, attempting to concentrate on the beings dressed in all black along the room's edges. “I won’t be here personally to oversee things as I have matters I must attend to.”

“And I have no dagger or weapon at my disposal should I need it,” I muttered, realizing just how out of control a place like this could get.

“The collar?” she asked.

“I’m not his dog,” I said, not liking the idea of being tagged.

She rolled her eyes, placing the collar in an outside pocket of my cloak. “It’s seen as an honor. Take it, just in case. The cavern splits off into smaller rooms if that is preferred. Some can be rented if privacy is a concern, though most prefer the open stage.”

“I can see that,” I muttered, watching as a man worked his cock into a woman’s pussy, her legs spread wide as her ass rocked on the lap of another.

“Wait, where is Morpheus?” I called when Megara turned to go. She glanced back but didn’t slow.

“He’ll find you after the meeting. Enjoy the evening as you see fit, Lady Larkspur.” She smiled. “Remember the collar.”

Meeting? But Megara had already been swept into the sea of bodies, leaving me alone and feeling like a doe in a den of vipers.