Page 34 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)

MORPHEUS

S he didn’t remember anything. Camilla had been able to brew a quick tea for Larkspur to help with her headache before we’d left. It had been nearly an hour. Her vision had returned to normal, the throbbing behind her eyes resolved, and still, she could tell me nothing about her dream.

“I couldn’t wake you up, even with slumber magic.”

“Maybe you’re not as powerful as you think, Dark Prince,” she said with a smug smirk, not worried in the least. Letting her eyes close, she lifted her chin to the twilight sky as the pegasus she rode glided through the air. We needed to discuss so many things, but she looked so peaceful and my mind was a jumbled mess of information. Better I sort through everything first.

Umber curls fanned out behind her as she lifted her arms, looking like she was flying. I remembered the little girl trapped at the bottom of the pit, punished for not having her own wings, and wondered if Larkspur ever wished things were different. But growing up in The Underworld was harsh, particularly in the north. Any softness—any kindness—was squeezed out of us.

So many questions were ricocheting in my mind, each getting tangled in another, but I kept returning to Larkspur’s true identity as the lost princess. My mother’s family had usurped hers when I was just a child, securing my place as prince to The Slumber Kingdom and The Kingdom of Nightmares.

It had been another seven years before rumors of the young princess's survival surfaced. On the eve of my seventeenth name day, I remembered that my father had ordered anyone whispering of the true heir to have their tongues cut out.

But that would mean…

“How old are you?” I asked, my back wings pumping leisurely as I kept pace with the pegasi.

Larkspur’s gaze snapped to mine, her head tilting. “Twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven. But it’s a little late to worry about the age gap, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t help the chuckle from tilting my lips. Maybe the dream had been wrong? I let the fleeting thought hover in the realm of possibility for a moment longer before dismissing it.

No. Too many pieces fit together. Larkspur was the lost princess, the true ruler of The Kingdom of Nightmares. Somehow, she’d been taken to The Realm of The Living and made to forget—forced to believe she was a young witch… but even that might not be true.

“When did your powers awaken?” I asked, unable to contain the anxiety spiraling inside of me.

“Twenty-one, like all witches.” Her smile faded as she studied me.

“And your magic?”

“Persuasion.”

“That’s not a power among the witches, Larkspur.” My voice was soft, even as my mind raced to connect all the threads.

“It’s from my mother’s side,” she said, lifting her chin as her eyes narrowed. “A gift from The Dark Ones.”

“Not a common gift,” I countered. “Most who wielded the power of persuasion were direct descendants from the goddess Melinoe. It was particularly popular among The Strix family, though it did skip a few generations.”

I observed her carefully, but there was no recognition in her gaze. Nothing that hinted at memories from a time decades passed.

“Okay.” Larkspur drew out the word, looking as if she were trying to decipher why I decided on the history lesson.

“And your father?” I pressed as images of the towering figure cloaked in night rose to the surface. “If he was a witch, shouldn’t you have inherited some of his coven’s magic?”

She flinched. It was small, and she covered it well with a shrug, but I saw it all the same before she faced forward. “He was a green witch and only an anchor to The Realm of The Living. Maybe there was nothing for me to inherit. The power in my mother’s line was stronger.”

A plausible reason, and if she did have an awakening like every other witch, how could she be the long-lost princess? I should let the topic drop until I gathered more information. Hecate was the goddess of all witches. She’d be able to confirm Larkspur’s lineage. Then maybe—maybe—my little monster wouldn’t be dragged into the deadly game of crowns.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, catching hints of her eucalyptus and honey in the misty, pine-scented night air. Flashes of a young girl with umber curls raced through my mind too quickly for me to focus. It felt like I was spinning, my stomach clenching as bile burned the back of my throat.

“Morpheus,” Larkspur called as I dipped. The startled concern in her voice snapped me out of my thoughts, tethering me to this time. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m—” Words stalled in my throat as I glanced toward her, the image of the little girl flickering over her face. Girl and then woman. Then and now. Mist-covered pine trees and snow-capped mountains—but not just any mountain.

Glass spires jutted from thick snowbanks, the clear spikes reflecting prisms across white swaths. The once beautiful grounds were barren, rendered into a foreboding prison—The Glass Palace.

Larkspur had been there. I’d seen her the day of the invasion when my mother proclaimed herself Queen of The Kingdom of Nightmares. I couldn’t have been more than ten. Ash covered her face and hair, hiding the finery of her silk gown, but there was no mistaking the green of her eyes.

Father forbid it, but I’d snuck through the buried palace until I found her room. There were guards positioned in front of her door, forcing me to slip back into the shadows. I took a hidden passageway and stepped into the brightly lit space.

Young Larkspur lifted her chin. The same hard glint she got in her eyes now was there then, her small hands clenched into fists as if she meant to fight me. “Are you here to kill me, prince?”

I took to the skies for the rest of the journey, unable to look at her without worry gripping me. Larkspur had no recollection of her childhood. She recalled time spent with her father and sister; everything described was within the last decade, but nothing before. I’d asked once more, pushing to see if there was any chance I could be wrong, only for her to deflect my remaining questions, brushing it off to suppressed memories from a shitty upbringing.

I guess it was possible. Gods knew I wanted to believe that version of history, but I just didn’t. Too many things were not adding up, and despite her protests, I was sure Larkspur felt it too. Something was cresting on the horizon for us, still out of focus but drawing nearer. I only hoped we’d survive the crash.

“We land here,” Artemis called. I followed her gaze, spotting two huntresses flying toward us, nearly hidden as they wove through the shadows of the clouds.

“What do you think that’s about,” Larkspur asked as the pegasi touched down. The new huntresses dismounted, speaking in hushed whispers to Artemis and Camilla. It wasn’t long before the others had joined them, leaving me and my little monster out.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, noting the hard sets to their jaws and the thin press of their lips. I helped her down, holding her close as our feet touched the ground. “But it doesn’t look good.”

The entire meeting took about a minute before the huntress dipped their heads toward Artemis and returned to their Pegasi. Most launched into the sky once more, flying south as the remaining six figures turned to face us.

“Hades and Persephone have ensured all the corrupt souls have drunk from The Lethe,” Artemis said. “The threat to The Dark Palace from within The Underworld is contained, for now.”

“That’s good news,” Larkspur said, glancing toward the sky where most of the huntresses grew smaller by the minute. “So, why are they leaving?”

“My huntresses tell me the passages that connect our realm to The Realm of The Living are being sealed. Hecate and Thanatos are working on it, but Hades is worried this is part of Hypnos’s plan.”

“Cutting us off from The Realm of The Living would aid him if he managed to leave The Underworld and take The Sands of Time with him,” I countered. She nodded grimly, waiting for me to puzzle it out. “Unless you think he’s secured the passage in the north?”

Artemis nodded.

“Which would cut us off but allow him access to both worlds,” Camilla added.

“Gods below,” muttered Larkspur, echoing my thoughts as the two of us stepping aside while our pegasi crept toward Camilla.

“It’s just a theory at this point,” Megara said, glancing to where Camilla spoke softly to the Pegasi. I lifted a brow at how comfortable Megara seemed among the huntresses. Gods knew she deserved a bit of happiness, but I never thought she’d search for it here.

Camilla finished communicating with the pegasi, and then the great beasts took to the skies, returning along the same path we’d taken.“We need that key more than ever,” she added.

“My huntresses Cyrene, Arete, and Hebe will stay with us until the others return.”

She pointed to each of them in turn as she spoke. Cyrene was short with dark eyes and high cheekbones. The contrast between her pale skin and sleek, black hair gleaming with blue undertones was exaggerated under the moon’s light, causing her to look all the more stunning.

Arete stood taller, her broad shoulders and strong arms visible beneath her cloak. Wavy dark hair was tied back from her face, revealing a jagged scar cutting through her brow and continuing across the brown skin of her forehead and cheek. The pink scar was raised, looking like it had taken dozens of sutures to piece the skin back together.

Hebe was last, the curves of her body speaking to the honed strength of her legs and arms. Rows of braids were woven together, linking to form larger ones secured with golden bands. Where the other two wore the typical clothing of the huntress, Hebe wore a gilded breastplate and plated skirt set over black pants beneath her cloak—marking her as an Amazon warrior.

She met my assessing glance with a raised brow, the grip on the six-foot-spear clasped in her hand tightening as if daring me to question her right to be here.I leaned further into Larkspur, finding the edge of her lips lifted in a smug smirk.

“They are among my top warriors,” Artemis continued. “I trust them to keep you safe.

The huntress lifted their chins at the praise, the honored glints in their eyes brimming with love and undying worship. It was clear Artemis was not only their goddess but also their friend. They were one true family regardless of where they’d come from.

“Get the key, check the prison, and stop Hypnos for good,” Megara said, stepping forward to join Camilla and Artemis. There was a brightness to her gaze that I hadn’t seen in years. Even how she held herself with her back straight and chin up spoke to her hopefulness.

The huntress began their check of weapons, preparing for what was to come. Camilla demonstrated quick swipes with a dagger for Megara, but I knew it wouldn’t help. If the creatures in this forest were close enough to need a dagger, you were already dead.

“Wouldn’t that have been easier with the pegasi?” Larkspur asked, brow lifting once she’d seen to her own weapons.

Artemis shook her head as the three huntresses behind her grinned. “I won’t risk spilling their blood here for our endeavors. We’re about to enter Lycia, Lady Larkspur. Home to the Chimeras.”