Page 53 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
MORPHEUS
“ N o.”
No. No. No. No. No.
The word played over and over again in my mind, telling me this wasn’t real, begging my mind to wake from this nightmare. Because surely—surely—the fates wouldn’t be this cruel.
“Larkspur.” Her name was a broken, agonized sound ripping from the depths of my soul.
My little monster’s eyes widened as the sword clattered to the floor. Scarlet gushed from the clean slit across her neck, her body collapsing as the scent of her blood filled the air.
Flitting to her side, I dropped to my knees, gathering her in my arms. My fangs ripped into my wrist, tearing flesh and vessels. She choked on her own blood, her chest heaving as a sick, gurgling sound rattled through her body. But her heart was still beating.
I poured my blood into her mouth, willing her to drink. To heal. To survive.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed, feeling dampness coat my cheeks as her bright green eyes dimmed. “I’m so sorry.”
A harsh laugh sounded among the screams of war, and I knew without taking my eyes from my little monster that it was Aphrodite.
If Larkspur didn’t survive this, I would skin that bitch of a goddess alive, let her heal and then start anew. Once I was tired of that, I would carve her up, removing bits and pieces until she was writhing in agony, until she felt the smallest hint of the pain I felt right now.
“Come back to me, little monster. We’ve only just begun.”
Larkspur’s pulse was fluttering, her breaths growing softer with each second.
“She needs to remember,” Psyche said, stepping barefoot through the battlefield, uncaring of the way her toes pressed through bodies. “Nothing you do will matter until she does.”
She crouched beside us, pressing her shimmering palms to Larkspur’s chest. Her brilliant eyes focused on something I couldn’t see as her magic searched, willing Larkspur to live.
“Please,” I begged, holding her in my arms as more of Psyche’s magic poured into her. The blood was slowing, the gash across her neck growing smaller. It was working. She was healing.
Thank the fates.
“There,” Psyche breathed. “More Larkspur. You need to see.”
“Morpheus!” Lucius’s voice was shrill, dripping with terror. I found him standing among The Dark Ones, our army severely depleted and barely standing. Persephone and the others had fallen back, pressed up by the gorgons to the south while the plague of humans guided by a smirking Aphrodite continued from the north. Hades was holding Ares at bay, the two at a shaky standstill. But Lucius wasn’t looking at any of that.
His gaze was fixed on the dark spot along The Echoing Mountains. I followed his line of sight as Larkspur’s body heated under Psyche’s touch. Unbridled fury ignited within me as I spotted Hypnos.
His golden hair and silver robes acted like a beacon among the writhing mass at his back. Focusing on the creatures at his back, I saw the black wings weren’t leathery like The Night Children but covered in obsidian feathers. If they were closer, I knew I’d see dark veins around their eyes, representing the vengeance they feed off of: Furies. And not just any furies, they were The Allecto. They were the furies unceasing in anger, those who would fight regardless of pain or injury as long as their bodies could move.
And there, poised in his right arm, was The Cornucopia. Poppies were carved into the wooden structure, coiling toward the opening filled with The Sands of Slumber.
Aphrodite joined Hypnos’s side with a golden quiver slung across her back and bow in her hands. Egerius and Ares positioned themselves on Hypnos’s other side with a small collection of dark ones among them.
The ravaged souls of Cocytus continued to clash with heroes from Elysium in the space set between us. Their fight was brutal and surprisingly balanced. As soon as Elysium started to press forward, the desperate souls of Cocytus would beat them back, fighting as if this was their one opportunity to escape eternal suffering—which it was.
Hades mirrored Ares in pulling back from the clashing souls. The God of The Underworld returned to Persephone’s side. The Goddess of Spring was now positioned on Hades’s chariot, tucked within the shield of his mighty wings as she leaned on him for support. He wielded death magic against the gorgons at our backs, keeping them from pressing forward as we prepared for whatever my father had planned.
“I’m going to need you at my side, brother.” Lucius’s voice was grim, the expression across his face resignation as what remained of our army got in formation.
“I can’t leave Larkspur,” I said, clutching her tighter. Sweat beaded across her brow, her eyes still closed, but the deep gash across her neck had sealed, and her heart was still beating. So, why wasn’t she waking?
And why was she still getting warmer? Her skin started to steam, searing my hands.
“Egerius will have told Hypnos of her true identity,” Lucius said, adjusting the grip on his sword as our enemies formed a line. “Regardless of her motives, Demeter was the one keeping Larkspur from him. Hypnos will kill her because of who she is and the threat she poses to his throne.”
“I’d never let that happen,” I gritted through clenched teeth, watching as Ares ran the line in his fiery bronze chariot. He thrust his spear in the air as he bellowed vicious war cries, stoking the already crazy furies into a self-righteous frenzy.
“Then join me,” Lucius said. “And prove you’re more than a spoiled prince. Show them—your father, your people, but most importantly yourself—that you are capable of greatness. That you will be the king The Dark Ones need.”
“Almost there, sister,” Psyche breathed.
Larkspur’s temperature escalated, the torn skin between her shoulders leaving red burns along my hand.
“Set her down on her side and step away,” Psyche said, pushing back. “She’s right where she needs to be.”
Blisters formed on my palms as I eased her to the ground, trusting Psyche and Larkspur’s thundering heartbeat that she would be okay.
I gathered my sword, knowing Lucius was correct. The worst had passed. Larkspur would live, and I needed to ensure there was a world for her to rejoin when she woke.
“Go,” Psyche said once more, hovering near her sister. “She’s working through the last of it.”
Sending a prayer to the fates, I joined Lucius at the center of our troops. Ares turned, the flames along his chariot and horses flickering in the lightning sky a moment before he raised his spear and screamed.
Furies, dark ones, the spelled humans, even the gorgons at our back mimicked the cry. The horde was unleashed as Ares raced toward us.
We were strong and far better at war tactics than them, but they outnumbered us three to one. And with Hermes leaving the portal open, I feared the odds weren’t in our favor.
There were no great speeches, no words of comfort as the wash of enemies swelled—only our beating hearts, our steady breathing grounding us to this moment.
“Elysium awaits,” I said knowing this was our end. Tension rolled through The Dark Ones. If we were lucky, we’d be called to serve Lord Hades in the afterlife once our souls had mended, but I wasn’t for that honor just yet.
“Eternal Paradise is ours,” Lucius yelled, wings bristling as we readied to launch into the skies. “Let’s earn our place among the heroes!”
“And make the gods wait a little longer to claim our souls,” I added, launching into the sky as Aphrodite shot her first arrow. I slashed it in two as Lucius and the others followed my lead, heading straight for The God of War and his soldiers.
I flitted through the early morning mist, slashing down each arrow The Goddess of love shot, allowing myself a moment of joy at the furious glare twisting her features.
It wasn’t until the pouch of sand was falling that I realized Hypnos had remained back, hidden in the shadows with a smug grin on his face. He looked as if he’d already won. Like nothing we could do at this point would stop him.
I dove as the first rays of dawn stretched across the sky, wings tucked in tight as I fought to reach the pouch before it struck the ground. But it was falling too quickly.
I was vaguely aware of Larkspur twisting in the distance, of her rolling onto her hands and knees as the first sounds of steel and bodies clashed. The screaming souls were muffled, drowned out by the pounding of my heartbeat as I watched the pouch containing The Sands of Slumber hit the ground in the center of our warriors… and burst open.