Page 56 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
MORPHEUS
I flitted through the sky, keeping to the light as I dodged golden arrows. That bitch would have to be dealt with soon, but Aphrodite would have to wait for now. It was time I stopped my father the only way I knew how: through death. Ironic that he was the one who’d demanded I be more ruthless, who’d insisted I learned when I was still a boy that there was no room for mercy on the battlefield.
“Leave him,” Hypnos called as Aphrodite notched another arrow, her cheeks flushed with anger. “This mistake is mine to fix.”
Those words stung more than any arrow could. Some small, naive part of me had hoped for a different outcome. And maybe that was why I’d resisted my title for so long. Because I knew it would always end this way—with either my blade ending his life or his ending mine.
As much as I wished we’d diverted from this path, I knew this moment was much larger than myself. Slaying Hypnos and claiming my throne was the only way to save my people. To save Larkspur.
Chimera’s roared in the distance, their howls growing closer. They worshiped Larkspur almost as much as I did. My little monster had been so brave—so fucking selfless to give her life for mine. She would be a beautiful, fearsome queen, and it was time I gave her a kingdom worth fighting for.
He set The Cornucopia down, The white poppies along the rim looking faded and nearly empty.
“You’ve been abusing your power,” I said, raising my sword, not surprised as he withdrew his blade.
His greatest weakness was arrogance. He still thought of me as the vapid little boy, the spoiled prince. He’d forgotten the monster he’d forged me into. I was quicker than him, stronger, and though I had no doubt his thirst for power and recognition that fueled this war was endless, my love for Larkspur was greater.
Hypnos shrugged as we circled each other. “It’s mine to abuse, boy. I’ve earned the right to use it as I please, not that you would know anything about what it takes to run a kingdom.”
He lashed out, a quick jab that would’ve left me gutted had I not parried the blow.
“I would do things differently,” I said in earnest. I would listen to our people.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he sneered, feigning left and striking right. He kept coming, his words punctuated by each swipe of his blade. I deflected each one as I held on hope that he would see the change that needed to happen. “You wouldn’t be able to handle this type of power. You’ve never been responsible for a single thing in your entire life. I should have known that whore would only breed filth.”
The back of my sword connected with his face. The sick, satisfying crunch of shattered bones sounded as blood poured from his nose. “You do not get to speak of her like that.”
He stepped back as my wings flexed, my fangs lengthening in anticipation of the kill. It was the first time anything resembling fear flickered across his face.
“You used her, taking advantage of her weakness for the effects of the poppy, and then left her to rot once you got what you wanted.”
I lashed out. Hypnos sidestepped the first and narrowly avoided the second, but I drew blood with the third strike. Blood welled along his shoulder, staining his silver tunic in red.
His eyes widened, recognizing for the first time that I wasn’t the same terrified boy he’d forced to murder for him. Somewhere along the way, I’d found myself—I’d given myself permission to become the person I was meant to be, even if that was the opposite of what Hypnos had wanted.
“A new dawn is here, Father.” I stood before him. The sound of wings stirred behind me, the light brightening, but I focused on my father, watching how his stunned gaze turned inward—grew calculative. “Will you stand aside and help me bring further a new age?”
I lifted a palm for The Cornucopia, keeping my sword poised in the other.
He bent down to pick it up, looking as if he might hand it over. “You’ll have to pry this from my dead body?—”
Thunk.
His head hit the floor before his mouth stopped moving. I’d once heard men whisper of seeing a decapitated head blinking before, some claiming there were seconds where the brain functioned off of the blood a little longer. I wondered if my father was aware of what the tilting of the world meant. If enough consciousness was left for him to know it was his head rolling.
His body fell, joining the hundreds of others lost to this war. It was only fair he stayed there, among the dead. Nestled in the gore and destruction of his own making.
I turned away from the pieces of my father, noting the chimeras surrounding me. Their snake tails hissed, scenting the fresh blood, but their lions’ heads were calm and respectful even as I lifted The Cornucopia. The white poppies engraved on the edges shimmered, the petals darkening into a deep ruby as the horn filled.
Magic swelled within, latching onto my bones and weaving through my body. Pricks of energy danced along the top of my head, linking to form a matching ruby crown reflected at me in the eyes of the surrounding beasts.
And there, walking toward me as the chimeras and remaining dark ones of my army parted for her, was Larkspur. Ebony wings edged in violet fanned out behind her, and her fingers, now tipped in black, looked more akin to talons than nails. Her umber curls had pulled free from the braid at some point, loose and framing her green eyes ringed in a red so dark it was nearly black. An aura of night seemed to cling to her, like wisps of dark dreams swirling around her.
I recalled the tales of the lost princess and The Strix family being descended from gods. Looking upon the amethyst crown set upon her head, it all made sense. The persuasion, the powers that must have manifested very strongly and at a young age for her to escape The Glass Palace unscathed, the reason why there was no other path forward if she held on to her memories—if she was allowed to grow into all she was meant to be before we were here, at this moment—Larkspur, my brave, beautiful, powerful little monster wasn’t only a newly crowned queen… but the chosen descent. The one who would inherit the magic and title long since left vacant.
Larkspur was the Goddess of Nightmares.