Page 28 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
MORPHEUS
L arkspur’s eyes brighten as they landed on the herd of mythical beasts. Their pristine coats glimmered in the rising moon's light, silver tails swaying happily as they lapped at the gently rolling waters. Pegasi were rare and beautiful to behold, but they were nothing compared to the glow radiating from my little monster.
She was fucking incredible. I feasted on her sweet little pussy so many times last night and was always left wanting more. I craved her even now, yearning to spread her thighs and part her flesh with my tongue. My cock twitched at the thought of the delicious sounds she made when she was riding my face, of the way her grip on my hair tightened, her body coiling just before an orgasm ripped through her.
My little monster joined the huntresses by the pegasi, shooting me a beaming smile full of disbelief and unencumbered happiness. Just like that, my desperation for her shifted into something more precious. It felt like Larkspur was burrowing her way beneath my bones and taking root in the fibers of my soul without even trying.
“Thanatos and I only just returned from The Realm of the Living,” Hecate said. I’d been too focused on Larkspur to hear her approach to listen, and the look of disapproval etched across Hecate’s face showed that she knew it. “Things are unraveling quickly up there.”
“You know my father,” I replied, inhaling deeply and releasing the rest in a sigh. “He’s been reaching for power for the last few centuries. After coming so close with Lord Hades nearly failing to find Lady Persephone in time, he thinks he’s owed sovereignty.”
“Sovereignty,” Artemis scoffed, coming over to us as the others carried on. “Lord Hades allowed him to reign over the northern kingdoms, as he has done for eons with Lady Melinoe’s descendants.”
I fought the urge to cringe at the mention of The Goddess of Nightmares. The Strix family were her kin, her chosen ruling line, and my mother’s greedy, power-hungry family had destroyed it. With the parents I had, was it any wonder that I didn’t want the pressures of a crown?
Artemis was right. If my father had only been content to pay respect to Lord Hades, he could have maintained order in the north. We could have focused on improving the lives of all those in The Kingdom of Slumber and even The Dark Ones still clinging to the misted ruins of The Kingdom of Nightmares. But Hypnos had to start a war instead.
Power had only corrupted. My people—those in the northern kingdoms of The Underworld—deserved peace.
“Hypnos is wielding The Sands of Slumber, but it’s too far-reaching to be a solo attack,” Hecate continued, her brows pulling together as if working through an equation only for the answer to evade her.
“My father can cause quite a lot of damage when he wants to,” I countered.
Hecate shook her head. “There are no patterns to the afflicted—at least there wasn’t.”
“What’s changed?” Artemis asked, her silver eyes boring into Hecate.
The Goddess of Witchcraft tilted her head, mind still half occupied with whatever she’d seen. “At first, humans and witches alike were driven mad from lack of sleep, which we now know has to be from The Sands of Slumber. We were hoping the attacks would stop, or at least ease while Hypnos was forced to return to The Underworld to retrieve more sand… but if anything, attacks have increased.”
Worried eyes glanced my way. I lifted my chin at their waiting stares, already understanding where she was going. “You’re worried how much sand my father has taken?”
“Yes,” Hecate nodded. “But because of the sheer number of mortals afflicted, we’re beginning to wonder if The Cornucopia—the source of the sands—could have passed through the realms without us knowing.”
“Impossible.” Artemis dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. “One of The Olympians must be aiding him. I bet it’s that pigheaded coward Ares pulling the strings.”
Hecate’s piercing stare didn’t waver from mine as I forced a nonchalant shrug. “Ares is The God of War. Destroying peace would be on point.”
After what felt like ages, Hecate finally looked away from me and focused her attention on Artemis. “Would you be able to speak with your brother to see if Ares or any other Olympians might be aiding Hypnos? Zeus made it clear he didn’t want anything that could bolster Hades’s realm, but the others might see this as a chance to offset the three brothers.”
Artemis nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ll see what Apollo knows and report back.” The goddess’s silver-eyed stare turned toward me. “Camilla and Megara informed me you are tasked with helping Larkspur find her sister.”
“Yes,” I said, unable to hold back the bite of frustration. “Along with searching for Hypnos and stopping him before he triggers a war among the gods.”
Larkspur and I had barely stepped foot into the north, and she’d already been placed in danger. I wanted more for her—more for The Dark Ones and The Kingdom of Slumber. I just wasn’t sure how to do it.
“We must travel to The Glass Palace,” Artemis nodded, more to herself than to us. “I’ll be able to feel the power of The Cornucopia, even from the outside. If it’s there, the huntresses and I will join you in The Realm of the Living in stopping Hypnos where he stands.”
Hecate nodded her thanks, the two launching into a strategy for the possible war in the world above. But all I could think about was The Glass Palace.
The prison. It had been contrasted by my ancestors who once possessed the power to harvest The Sands of Slumber and shape them with the fires of Tartarus to craft magnificent towers and gleaming buildings that stretched into the sky.
At some point, the fates deemed this ability too great for my kind. Perhaps they foresaw Hypnos’s plan for control, or maybe the knowledge of how to wield such magic was simply lost to time.
During the war of the Titans, when the fires of Tartarus were stoked, the land of The Underworld shifted. Monstrous volcanoes rose from the floors of our forest. The once thriving habitat had been coated in plumes of ash and lava. Great flows covered the palace, building layer upon layer until only the tips of the uppermost spires could be seen amid the newly born mountain.
Since then, it had become a prison for father’s most hated enemies. I’d considered it a possible location for Larkspur’s sister, but I knew of only one girl trapped within those horrid walls, and there was no way she was who my little monster was after.
“You’re welcome to join us, Hecate,” Artemis continued, oblivious to where my thoughts had gone.
“I must return to aid the witches from The Realm of The Living, but thank you for the offer.”
Artemis nodded before setting her sights on Camilla. She was standing between Megara and Larkspur with a smile on her face as they took turns throwing stars. “We leave in five minutes, Morpheus.”
I stayed where I was, sensing Hecate wasn’t yet finished with me.
Once the others were out of earshot, she lowered her voice and spoke. “If there is any chance The Cornucopia may have crossed into The Realm of The Living, I need to know about it.”
“The Cornucopia isn’t a typical artifact of the gods.” I spoke softly, being careful to keep my voice low. Artemis may be trustworthy, but not all secrets were meant to be shared. “It would need to be persuaded and coaxed into leaving its place in The Glass Palace. But the power of an Olympia with the aid of my father’s blood…”
I let my voice trail off, hating the idea of this war compounding. If my father did have the aid of an Olympian, we needed to travel to The Glass Palace. Sensing the magic wouldn’t be enough. I needed to enter that fucking place and ensure The Cornucopia was safe, which would be difficult since Hypnos had determined I’d lost my right to hold the key seven years ago when I decided I’d had enough of following his orders.
Artemis lifted a brow, studying me, but I had nothing left to offer. My family was horrible, but that didn’t mean I shared their desires. Letting the silence stretch, I watched Larkspur mingle with the huntress. The group was exchanging daggers and small weapons that looked as if they’d been carved from obsidian stone and some from the whitest bones.
“You are not your father, Morpheus.” The softness of Hecate’s voice caused me to meet her gaze. It wasn’t gentle—I didn’t think The Goddess of Witchcraft was ever really gentle —but there was something almost like approval swirling deep within her gaze. “From what the huntresses have told me, you honored Larkspur today. That is not something she’ll forget.”
“I will worship her until the realms fall. Even then, when our souls are returned to the void and the cosmos accepts our essences back into the primal chaos that spawns us all, I will find her.”
That was the one truth I knew. The one unfailing, infinite thing in a world doomed to crumble—Larkspur was the comfort in the dark.I realized I would do anything to make her happy. Not just safe, but surrounded by good, living in a realm of safety where she would never have to worry about being preyed upon again.
Hecate held my gaze a moment longer; her lips pressed thin as if she were weighing the truth in my eyes. When she found no deception, she placed a hand on my forearm, her strong fingers searing against my skin.
“Your love will be tested, young prince. She needs you now, your strength, your influence in the north, but when all of that fades… when the two of you are placed on an even scale, will you be confident enough in your love—in yourself—to let her fly?”
Her grip tightened on my forearm, a hiss escaping my lips as the pads of her fingers seemed to glow, burning into me.
My chest heaved as a nameless feeling of foreboding coiled in my gut. I felt like the ax was about to fall, and I’d only just realized it was my head upon the block. Flashes of memories flitted through my mind, blurry and coming much too fast to process.
My stomach twisted, nausea mounting as I forced my breathing to steady, willing the thoughts to slow.
“Morpheus,” Hecate’s voice cut through the clamor of my mind, silencing the world. “When everything is darkest and hope is lost, keep going. The most resilient metals are forged under the highest points of stress. You’re not breaking. Only being reforged into what you were always meant to be.”