Page 39 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
LARKSPUR
A fter the first five songs of standing around, Camilla finally convinced Artemis nothing would happen.
“Morpheus is sure to retrieve the key that is rightfully his by birth, and we’ll be out of here by the end of the night,” Camilla said, linking her arm to Artemis’s.
“We could sleep in beds tonight and leave in the morning,” Megara suggested, but after glancing at the disgusted faces of the huntresses, she quickly changed her mind. “Or not.”
“We prefer sleeping beneath the stars,” Cyrene said in her sing-song voice.
“And away from men,” Hebe added, her nose wrinkling as she met my gaze. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I said with a sigh, and I meant it. There’d been so much hurt over my life at the hands of men. Most had a level of entitlement that went unchecked their entire lives. I supposed men in The Underworld were no different. “For most, I’d agree with you.”
“But not all,” Arete asked, her head tilting to the side as she studied me. “Is Morpheus really that great in bed?”
A surprised laugh tumbled from my lips, echoed by Megara and Camilla, but the Hebe, Cyrene, and even Artemis were looking as if they were waiting for an answer.
“No, I mean, yes, he is, but that’s not why I feel comfortable around him. I trust him.”
Scanning the room, I looked for my Dark Prince. The dance floor had filled, and wine was flowing freely. Even more guests arrived as the night went on. Finally, I found Morpheus seated on the opposite wall on a cobalt cushioned chair, his great wings tucked in close behind the back of it. One arm was propped up as he sat across from Egerius, who was draped over an emerald green lounge and waving toward a group of women.
Three sauntered over, their fair features and scantily clad bodies surrounding Morpheus. He brushed their attention off, declining kindly, but I couldn’t help but wish he’d been more direct. Two of them drifted over to Egerius, joining him on the lounge, but the one with long blonde curls and a tight two-piece dress helped herself to a seat on the arm of Morpheus’s chair.
“What were you saying about trust?” Arete asked. The look of pity etched across her face was mimicked in Hebe’s, and a frown had formed across Cyrene’s soft features, but Camilla waved me over, one arm still linked with Artemis.
“I’m sure Morpheus is doing what he must,” she said as I slinked toward them.
“That doesn’t mean I want to see it,” I muttered, thinking that he’d better understand there was a line he couldn’t cross. Regardless of this key's importance, I wasn’t okay with him touching anyone else.
“Let’s dance,” Megara said, dragging our mopey group toward the center of the room. “We’re supposed to be blending in, and who knows. Maybe it will help move things along.”
When a servant in a red cloak passed carrying a silver tray, Megara snagged two tall flutes filled with bubbly liquid and pressed one into my hand.
“To finding light in the darkness,” Megara said.
“And dancing in the flames as the world burns,” Hebe finished with a grin, holding a glass that looked to be filled with cider.
Megara rolled her eyes but lifted her glass. I spared a last glance over my shoulder, hating that I found Morpheus still seated and the blonde still flirting. With narrowed eyes, I turned back around, feeling the fizz of the bubbles against my lips as I met Hebe’s stare.
“To dancing in the flames.”
O ne song blended into the next as the night went on, each of us taking turns leading. Surprisingly, Hebe and Arete were light on their feet and familiar with nearly all of the dances. Hebe twirled me through the last of the fast tempo, dipping me just as Arete dipped Cyrene. Megara and I giggled. The wine was stronger than we’d anticipated. Thank the gods, I’d only had one glass.
“I need a drink,” Megara breathed, her chest heaving.
“Me too,” Artemis said, her words muffled with Camilla’s lips on hers. With a grin, she pulled back. “I’m going to find something to lessen the headache you two will feel tomorrow.”
Camilla stared at her, her eyes darkening as her hands slipped down the goddess’s back. “Should I help you look?”
Artemis grinned before pressing a chaste kiss to Camilla’s cheek. “No, my huntress. Stay here.”
“We’ll be back as soon as we find water,” Cyrene said, cutting through the moment as she and Hebe stalked forward.
Camilla was still staring after her, eyes hooded and face flushed. There’d been charged tension between them throughout our journey, but I’d heard long ago that Artemis was a virgin goddess.
“Are you two…” I wasn’t sure how to finish that question and quickly realized it was none of my business. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”
Arete laughed, her arm looped around a wobbly Megara who’d not only finished her glass but helped herself to a second.
“Her father tried to marry her off,” Camilla said, finally tearing her gaze away from Artemis as she disappeared into the crowd. “Unwilling to anchor herself to a man, Artemis swore an oath to Zeus to never bed a man and remain virginal in all ways of men for the rest of her existence. He accepted her vow.” Mischief danced in Camilla’s warm, brown eyes. “But she never promised to stay away from women.”
I laugh, grinning at the goddess’s cleverness.
“Am I interrupting?” a deep voice from behind me asked.
I turned, finding a pair of sapphire eyes ringed in red staring back at me. Dark wings flexed as he grinned, revealing the tips of sharp fangs. His dark hair had been recently cut, the edges clean and close along his scalp. It was obvious he took pride in his appearance and expected most would find him irresistible—most, but not all.
“Lucius, is it?” I asked, wishing the lingering effects of the wine would dissipate quicker.
His cocky grin widened. “Morpheus has been talking about me.”
“No,” I countered, my voice icy. “But I pay attention.”
A thick and perfectly manicured brow lifted. “Is that so, princess?”
My eyes narrowed at the pet name.
“Is there something you wanted?” Arete asked, her voice reverberating with all the annoyance I felt.
Lucius’s gaze flicked to her before settling on Megara with a tsk. “Gluttony is never pretty.”
“Says the man with red rings around his irises depicting just how gluttons he is,” I snapped, positioning my body in front of Megara.
“Don’t be jealous, princess,” Lucius grinned, leaning in like we were conspirators. “I’m happy to indulge in some of her baser desires. As you can see, I have a huge appetite.”
My palms tingled as magic swelled beneath my fingertips, but I clenched my fists before I could do anything stupid. I was supposed to blend in. I was supposed to blend?—
“Don’t worry about your boyfriend,” Lucius said, his large black wings obstructing nearly all the ballroom behind us.
There was a groan of the large wooden doors opening, followed by footsteps across the tiled floors. I stepped to the side, done with whatever power play this was, but Lucius was there the next moment, blocking my path.
“He’s not thinking about you, Larkspur,” Lucius cooed, lifting a hand toward my face as if he meant to brush my cheek. One look at my narrowed gaze brimming with fury had him lowering it.
Other sounds were adding to the array of music and conversations around us—gasps and sucking and moans. I needed to get to Morpheus, to get away from Lucius and whatever was happening.
“Get out of my way,” I growled through clenched teeth, only just managing to hold back persuasion from leaching into my words.
Lucius’s grin softened, his eyes boring into mine as he dared to lean closer. “Morpheus and I always did have the same taste in women,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath fanning my ear. “But I would never leave you alone in a crowded room.”
My nostrils flared, mouth opening with a magic poised on my tongue as I decided I’d rather watch Lucius squirm than blend in, but he pulled back a moment before I breathed the curse into life.
Taking large steps back, Lucius tucked his wings in. “Find me tonight if you change your mind.”
Before I could tell him to fuck off, he flitted away, exposing the entirety of the ballroom.
Everything had changed.
Music still played, and people still danced, but the metallic scent of blood doused the room. Red was everywhere. Servants in scarlet cloaks woven among guests, the women and men beneath them being claimed randomly. Apart from the heavy cloaks, they were entirely naked, their exposed bodies laid out on lounges and chairs throughout the ballroom for all to see.
Dark ones fed, fangs ripping into flesh. Cries of pain shifted into ones of pleasure as guests shed their garments.
“Oh my gods,” Megara breathed, clinging to a horror-stricken Arete.
“We need to get out of here,” I breathed, searching the space for Morpheus, only to find him standing with a red-cloaked woman in his arms.