Page 22 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)

LARKSPUR

T he taste of his blood was intoxicating. I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew that willingly drinking from him would only blur the already wavering line between us, but I was so tired of being strong. It was exhausting calculating out each choice, looking into each decision before I made it to determine what would be safest, when all I truly wanted to do was jump.

So, with The Prince of Darkness bleeding and on his knees before me, I leapt.

Morpheus pressed his wrist to my lips, the warm liquid spilling across my tongue as my fangs reopened the shallow gash. He tasted like a vintage port—the richness of spices cut with a delicious undercurrent of sweetness.

A burst of energy shot through me, spilling into my veins. It felt like I was just waking up, like there had been a sheen of fog all around me, obscuring the crispness of life, and now it had been lifted. The sound of his beating heart, strong and true, was clearer. The smell of eucalyptus and honey rising in steaming swirls from the pool was sharper. The taste— gods, the fucking taste of him.

“Are you ready, little monster?” Morpheus’s lips caressed my ear, pressing gentle, teasing kisses.

I moaned my agreement against his skin, unwilling to relinquish his wrist. I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I didn’t care. This was all I’d ever needed. Him. His blood. This feeling of power—of spending a lifetime on the verge of starvation only to experience what it meant to be sated.

“I wish I could keep you like this always, Larkspur. But you showed me yours, willing or otherwise. It’s only fair I show you mine. And for you, I want to do what’s right, even if you hate me.”

The small, rational part of my mind begged me to listen to Morpheus, to heed his warning, but each beat of his heart sent another wash of blood rolling over my tongue—another hit of the most potent drug I’d ever tasted.

Something changed.

A prick of fear, or was that shame, spiked through the air, the bitter tang of it altering the sweetness of Morpheus’s blood. I blinked away the haze of feeding, coming to my senses enough to look up into Morpheus’s piercing gaze.

He was staring down at me with longing, pride, and hunger, but there was an overwhelming pulse of sadness, too. My lips were still wrapped around his wrist, the wash of blood only now starting to slow. I meant to pull away, to ask why he looked dejected, so unlike the frivolous prince that I knew him to be, but his other hand gripped the back of my neck, forcing my fangs deeper.

There was a shifting of our minds as the fresh rush of blood came, our consciousness reaching for one another like electric currents connecting in a flash of lightning. I leaned into him, wanting more even as I drank deeply, yearning to consume every drop.

“See me, little monster,” Morpheus commanded, and then the world as I knew it fell away.

Morpheus

O bsidian floors stretched before me as I swayed, one hand grasped around a bottle as I left Thanatos's room. Old emotions crashed into me. I felt miserable. Worthless and guilty, like I’d never find another person who’d ever see me the way he had.

I knew Larkspur would be able to sense everything that occurred here. I was purposely keeping myself connected to her consciousness. Any other time I’d considered opening myself up, it’d felt like an invasion, but with her, it felt right. She may not get all the details, but she could sense what I had. Understand the way my fucked-up mind worked.

The scene shifted as more of my blood flowed into her, the rush causing memories to flicker by. Hypnos smashing the first violin I’d ever owned because playing it would make me appear soft. Then, I was a boy, hiding in my father’s study and playing spy when a woman burst through the doors carrying a child. A thick, black cloak covered her body, the emblem of a belladonna blossom set before the night sky embodied across it in silver stitching. There was a flash of dark, umber curls before the memory shifted.

I was soaring over Mount Ruin, shame and regret churning in my gut as the mist parted, revealing a shimmering door on the side of the mountain. There was a shriek as I dove for the ledge, blonde hair flying up.

Then I was standing at the foot of a bed in one of the back rooms at The Playground, my body rocking as I slammed into the woman bent over the edge. Music was booming, and other couples in the room were moaning and writhing with pleasure. My partner for the night was no different, but I was numb. Staring off into space as my fingers gripped the meat of her ass, wishing that one day fucking would be more than just a release with a faceless stranger.

Something like a growl rumbled in Lark’s throat as she sank her fangs deeper, the scene shifting again.

I laughed as I tore through the group of dark ones, my voice pitching with a manic ring. The women and children yelled, calling me a beast, a villain, a nightmare from the darkest recesses of their minds.

And I was. I stabbed and sliced anyone who came toward me, my speed keeping my injuries to a minimum. When the men started to run, I chased them, hunting them down like the monster I was.

Another slight tug from Larkspur pulled us back to a time when I was young and not yet crafted into The Prince of Darkness.

I sat on the banks of The Lethe, throwing citrine stones into the gently flowing waters, wishing there was a way I could cross them and leave this place. I’d only just turned thirteen. My wings were finally maturing, but it would still be another ten years before I could fly rather than flutter around like a child.

“Rough day?”

The deep voice sounded from my right, the stones crunching as his thick boots brought him closer. Drawing my knees into my chest, I glanced up, finding piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

I shrugged as he drew nearer, knowing he’d seen all he needed to today. His dark skin and clothes were still splattered with red, the metallic scent causing my fangs to throb despite the revulsion twisting my stomach.

So many families… dead. They’d been furies, a group aligned with The Dark Faction who bowed to Lord Hades before acknowledging my father. That was their only crime—respecting The Lord of The Underworld more than Lord Hypnos, and my father had them slaughtered for it. As if their lives meant nothing.

Egerius was one of my father’s longest friends and most trusted allies, but I secretly thought he liked me more. He was the one who spent hours training with me. The one who’d showed me how to stitch up a cut when healers weren’t near, and which herbs and fruits were safe to eat in the forest of the north. But more than anything—especially in times like these—I thought this was how having a father should feel.

Maybe the fates had gotten things mixed up. I wasn’t cut out for war, for slaughtering creatures of The Underworld. Sure, learning how to sword fight was fun, and I liked seeing different parts of our kingdom, but Father wanted me to be feared… and all I wanted was for someone to be my friend because they wanted to, not because of who I would one day become.

Egerius knew that. He understood I’d rather be learning new songs on my violin than memorizing where to throw a dagger for a killing blow, and still, he’d done nothing to stop what had happened this morning.

With a long, heavy sigh, Egerius sat next to me, looking out at the water as he spoke. “Sometimes, being a leader means you have to do things you don’t like. It can feel wrong, and your gut can tell you to turn away, but the peace must be kept.”

I shook my head, unable to speak with the level of anger and grief racing through my veins. Father had thrown the girl at my feet. She cried out in agony as the white of her splintered bone sticking through the flesh of her thigh shifted on impact. Blood was pouring from the wound, her skin pale and clammy, but she raised her head, meeting my gaze.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I need to find my little brother. He’s all alone.”

‘Finish her,’ Hypnos yelled, his lip curling as the blade in my hand shook.

’She’s younger than me,’ I breathed, unable to look away from the green eyes silently pleading with me to let her live. She had orange freckles across her skin and bright hair that reflected the fires burning around us. Fierce, and yet she couldn’t conceal the terror seeping from her veins. ‘Surely, she’s not a threat.’

The back of my father’s hand smacked me across the cheek, sending me sprawling to the ground next to her. Blood coated my tongue as my ears rang. Good, I’d thought. Maybe if he strikes me hard enough, I can forget this. But Hypnos leaned in, yanking up my head until I could see the trembling girl.

‘She is a traitor to your throne, boy. And we have no mercy for traitors.’ Father quickly jerked his chin, holding mine in place as Egerius stepped forward with his blade drawn.

‘No!’ I yelled, lunging forward. But the blade had already found purchase in the girl’s chest. And the thrumming beat of her heart had stopped.