Page 52 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)

MORPHEUS

T he pain in my gut twisted as if a hook had latched onto my flesh, and I was nothing more than a fish being dragged to my death. I turned, heeding that poisonous command, searching the throng of raging humans until I found her.

Golden hair flowed freely, drifting past her petite waist, the tips of curls just brushing the top of her ass. Her skin was smooth, reminiscent of a doll, and her light brown eyes had flecks of hazel in them. She should be beautiful, the classic definition of what most would consider irresistible. I could feel her magic weaving through my body, seeping out from where the arrow pierced, coaxing me to drop to my knees for her.

“Resist her,” Lucius said, his voice harsh as he tried to turn me away. “If you go to her, you’re dead.”

“Come to me, my dear Morpheus,” Aphrodite whispered in my head. “Pledge your life to me, and I’ll reward you.”

“I’ve already bound my life to another’s.” My fists clenched as I bared my teeth. “And for her, for my queen—my goddess—I would see you sent to Tartarus to burn for eternity.”

Lucius huffed out a disbelieving laugh, a body crumbling to the ground, and he drew back his sword. “I can’t believe it. No one has been able to resist…”

His words fell away as Aphrodite’s beautiful smile topped in a halo of gold twisted into a fearsome snarl. She raised her hand, palm outstretched as she held my gaze.

“I can’t have you obsessed with someone more than me, now can I?”

Her fingers curled into a fist, and I swear I felt her magic tighten around my soul before she jerked her hand back. There was a cracking sound in my mind followed by a hollowness as everything went silent.

“I am your one true love, Morpheus.” Aphrodite’s voice spoke into the quiet, the sound splitting and vibrating in multiple octaves simultaneously. She repeated it again and again until I knew no other name. Until my only desire was to make her happy.

My one true love.

“Yes,” I said, my unblinking gaze fixed on her. I was vaguely aware of the dark-haired man with cerulean eyes shouting in front of me, shaking my body, but I couldn’t feel anything beside her warmth. Her love.

“Prove your love to me, Morpheus,” Aphrodite sang, her words burning through me. “Kill the imposter called ‘Larkspur.’”

“Yes,” I said. I’d do anything— anything —for her. It felt like my veins were about to burst, like acid was rushing through my body, and the only way to quiet the pain, the torment, was to make my one true love happy.

“Find her, Morpheus. And bring me her head.”

Larkspur

“ W e need to retreat,” Persephone called, brow slick with sweat as she called forth another tangled of vines, but the gorgons smelled through them without a second thought.

I understood the frantic, devastated look flashing across her face as she looked at me. Every part of my body ached from wielding spell after spell. We’d killed dozens of them, but there always seemed to be more.

The gorgons’ skin was composed of scales impenetrable to everything we’d tried. Their bronzed talons in place of fingers cut through shields, wings, and muscle as if they were nothing. And their rage—their unending need for blood had to have been glorified by Ares.

“Hades?” I asked as I called forth another wave of magic, knowing Persephone would understand my question.

She shook her head, dropping back as dark ones surged forward to kill the gorgons she’d snared with roots. “He’s using all the death magic he can to keep Ares and the cursed souls of Cocytus from surging forward. Any more, and he could lose himself.”

My first instinct was to remind her that Hades consumed by death magic was a small price to pay to save The Underworld and finish this war, but then I thought of Morpheus… and knew there was nothing in this realm or any other that could make me forfeit his life.

Persephone looked my way, anticipating a retort. It hurt, but I knew it would be a long road and earning back her trust.

“We’ll find another way,” I breathed, waiting for her and The Dark Ones to get behind me before I faced the fresh rush of gorgons stepping over their fallen for the chance to kill me. “Stop!”

The magic left me in a wave. I stumbled back from the loss, my vision spotting as I fought to keep on my feet. Soft hands caught me as I swayed. I looked up, finding Psyche’s violet eyes looking down.

“Careful, sister. The battle has only just started.” Her hands began to shimmer, the faint light along her fingers feeling like a comforting warmth sweeping through my mind. Her magic pushed. It was gentle but searching, the pressure growing before withdrawing completely. “You need to remember who you are before it’s too late.”

My brows furrowed as my lungs worked to pull in enough air. Psyche looked beyond me, seeing things nobody else could on this bloody field set in the shadow of the castle that was once my home. The sky had started to lighten, the moon near set and still there was no sign of Artemis.

“You must remember before Hypnos reaches us.” Psyche grabbed my hands, shooting bursts of warmth through her touch. This time, it stung, pricking quiet places in my mind.

I jerked back, my heart beating against my chest as I searched my sister’s face for answers. But she only shook her head, gasping as she focused on something past me.

Following her line of sight, I turned, watching as Lucius rolled over human remains, narrowly avoiding the sharp end of a blade. I looked up, expecting to find one of Ares’s followers or perhaps a gorgon that had broken through our ranks, but it was neither. Standing over Lucius with his golden eyes ringed in red was Morpheus.

It made no sense. Lucius pledged himself and offered his army to aid us. What could’ve changed since the battle had started?

“Morpheus?” I said, starting forward.

His head snapped up, tilting at an unnatural angle as he studied me. A chill slid down my spine as I slowed, unaccustomed to the crazed glare staring back at me. This was the ruthless prince from his memories, the one that maimed and killed without thought—only that wasn’t true. Not exactly.

Morpheus had always cared. He managed to disassociate from his actions and give into the madness of war for a time, but he always returned to himself. But this Morpheus, this Prince of Darkness, looked as if he wanted to murder me.

He took a calculated step forward, sword gripped firmly in his hand. I had to fight the urge not to flee and instead lifted my empty hands, my blade sheathed at my hip.

“It’s me, Larkspur.”

My name was a trigger, unleashing the beast hidden within my dark prince. He sprung forward as I retreated with a shriek. My boot squished, sliding among the entrails of the dead, closing the already precarious distance between us.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I ran as fast as I could, ignoring the dizziness of my fatiguing body as I raced back toward Persephone. I skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with the wall of dark ones actively battling gorgons. Their forked tongues lashed out, scenting the thick cloud of fear, relishing in their impending victory.

There was a snapping of wings behind me, the gust of wind tinged with leather and spice. Closing my eyes against what was to come, I withdrew my sword and turned.

Steel clashed as I swiped aside Morpheus’s thrust, the force of which caused me to stumble back. Before I had time to recover properly, he was there again and again , pressing me back.

I screamed as a gorgon’s talons raked across my back, splitting the skin between my shoulder blades. Morpheus withdrew a slim, silver dagger, flitting toward the gorgon whose talons were still scented with my blood, and sliced through its eyes, embedding the blade in its skull.

With my heart pounding in my ears, I searched his face for any sign of recognition. There was none.

“I will be the one to kill you,” he seethed, spitting the words.

I flinched as I scrambled back, knowing he was much better with a blade than I was. My legs shook, exhaustion catching up to me despite the surge of adrenaline.

Screams filled the air of the dying. I had no idea if it was us or them, but in my heart, I knew there would be no winning against Morpheus. Not if I didn’t change the rules of the game. If I could break whatever this was, he would return to me. He had to.

“Morpheus, stop!” I shouted the command, lacing every syllable with magic.

He slowed, his movements looking as if he were wading through tar. A snarl broke across his face as he bared his teeth, veins bulging under the strain it took to fight against my magic. And then it broke. Morpheus continued his slow prowl toward me, devoid of everything that made him the man I fell in love with.

My chest heaved as I felt the pieces of my newly mended heart wither under the loathing stare Morpheus pinned me with. I swayed, staggering back as I realized there would be no happy ending for us.

He was going to kill me. I wasn't afraid of death. Not for myself, but my dark prince would never forgive himself. The thought of him plagued by endless torment and self-loathing had bile burning the back of my throat.

“Stop,” I tried again, putting all the magic I had left into the command. He slowed, giving me a few more seconds to reach him.

“Please, Morpheus,” I bit out, tears streaking down my face. “I love you. You love me. This—all of this—isn't you.”

An animalistic scream tore from his throat as the last dregs of my magic failed.

“No,” I breathed, stumbling back, my blade scraping the ground. This was it. This was how I died.

“You spent the last of your magic on a failed curse, witch,” Morpheus growled, stalking toward me with his sword held firmly in his grasp. “There is nothing to stop me from claiming your blood.”

“You want my blood?” I whispered. Grasping on to the unfairness of it all, I met his hate-filled glare with my own stubborn wrath. “You’ve already had it. It runs in your veins.”

His eyes narrowed, but he took another menacing step forward.

“I gave it to you freely, just as I’ve given you everything else. My blood, my body, the battered remains of my soul.” My voice cracked as I blinked away the tears, clinging to anger, to how incredibly fucked up it was for the fates to show me a glimpse of love only to have it be my downfall.

“All of me is yours.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I stood my ground, holding my head up high. “If you demand my life… I will relinquish that as well.”

I searched for a flicker of confusion in his golden eyes, for a break in the flowery scent of magic that I smelled slithering all over him, but there was nothing.

The whole thing had started out so fucked, but for the first time in my miserable life, I’d finally found someone who understood me. Someone who saw the jagged, broken bits and didn’t flinch from the sharp edges. Who didn’t mind the way being with me sometimes left them bleeding. And now, he was lost.

“I love you.”

He tensed against the broken vow, still not understanding, as I raised my sword. Summing all the strength I had left, I lifted the blade to my neck.

“Whatever comes, my dark prince,” I breathed, feeling an unnatural calmness stealing through my body. I offered him one last smile, one small gesture that would let him know not to blame himself. And then I dragged the edge of the blade across my throat.