Page 6 of Summer’s Seduction (Sinful Seasons #2)
MORPHEUS
I reached for Larkspur, intending to toss her to Hades, counting on his love for Persephone to keep her longest friend alive despite his blatant hatred, but paused as the curved dagger withdrew. A smug smirk appeared through the sliced section of Hades’s shadows. Light magic reflected a stream of rainbow prisms through our dark cocoon.
“Dammit it, Hermes,” Hades cursed, releasing his control on the shadows to shield his eyes.
“Opps,” she grinned as the brightness faded, her dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. Her ink-black hair was swept back into a thick braid, the planes of her high cheekbones sharp in the flash of distant lightning.
Rain and wind seemed to pause, hovering just beyond our small group as the faint light of the night sky filtered down around us. Hermes’s silhouette came into view, faint traces of her ancient magic illuminating thick boots and a long cloak. I could see half a dozen daggers and blades strapped to her person and had little doubt there were half a dozen more hidden beneath. Hermes gave off the impression of being rash, but she was formidable and calculated when she wanted to be.
“Pardon me, Uncle. I didn’t see you there.”
Hades fixed her with a glare as Persephone looked between them. “Uncle?”
Hermes' attention shifted to our new queen, the avian tilting of her head causing Larkspur to step back. I opened my wings a little wider, something in my chest lurching as Larkspur drew closer to my side. I doubted she was even aware of it, but my little monster gravitated to me for protection, even in the presence of her closest friend.
Faint traces of eucalyptus and honey swirled in the air as Larkspur glanced up at me, her innocent gaze shifting to a glare as I allowed the tip of my fangs to show. But she didn’t pull away.
We were the same, her and I, whether she realized it or not. Two creatures both revered and despised for our power. I was the heir to not only The Kingdom of Slumber as Hypnos’s only son, but I was also the bastard heir to The Nightmare Kingdom. My mother’s family had usurped the official ruling family, claiming the title as their own, only for their line to end after producing me. My stepmother ensured everyone in The Underworld knew I was the unwanted product of an affair between two bored royals. Nothing more than a mistake.
It was such a pity she took a tumble into The Lithe. I hadn’t been the one to push her, but I’d shed no tears after hearing of her passing.
Growing up, I realized I was left with the burden of caring for two great kingdoms, neither of which particularly wanted me as their king. It wasn’t until I was older that I learned to play their games. I couldn’t beat them, couldn’t force them to approve of the blood running in my veins, but I sure as fuck could make them want me.
Seduction was simple. It was all about understanding your target, and for me, that was a quick glance inside their minds while they slept. Dreams were pure instinct—unbridled fear, wild, primal desires, unchecked by society’s expectations. I studied my enemies, decoding their greatest desires. Who they wished they could be or who they wanted to fuck. And then I became it.
I was the easygoing prince, the charismatic jokester—until I wasn’t.
It was subtle, that shift from perceived friend to feared prince, but I’d done it. And I’d done it well. Of course, I still maintained the roguish son while Father and those loyal to him were around. Despite how much Thanatos had seen of my soul, I’d even maintained most of the spoiled prince persona around Lord Hades.
But those away from the glamour of court, the citizens of the northern kingdoms, the backbone of this realm—they knew I wasn’t someone to fuck with.
I sensed much of the same struggles in Larkspur. She was rough and not just around the edges. My little monster had taken each piece of her shattered heart, set the sharp tips pointing outward, and reformed them into impenetrable armor. She’d been hurt, of that, I was sure. You couldn’t be forged into the lethal weapons we were without trauma. Judging by the guarded glances she held even for Persephone, I’d wager my little monster had suffered in spades.
I wondered what lurked in her mind. When the moon was high, and the day's chaos had quieted, when she was alone with her thoughts, what did she think of? What dreams haunted her? Were her thoughts as dark as my own, as tormented as mine? Did her anger burn as brightly as mine did?
“Lady Persephone,” Hermes said, dropping into a dramatic bow. “What an honor it is to meet you.”
“Why are you here?” Hecate cut in, her palms flickering with light as her own magic pricked.
“Ah-Ah,” Hermes warned, shaking her head as she lifted a finger toward the storm overhead. The worst of the wind and rain had stopped the moment she’d arrived, but Hermes rarely appeared of her own volition despite being able to wield portals. She was the goddess of thieves and merchants, of roads and travelers, but most importantly, she was a messenger to the gods. “Zeus is already in a pissy mood. Banishing me would only worsen things.”
“Then, spit it out already,” Larkspur practically growled, her voice reverberating with the faint echo of persuasion. “Why are you here?”
Hermes’s brown eyes flashed with violence as her head snapped toward Larkspur. Her features seemed to shift, the darkness of her eyes lightening and changing into a bright hazel, the undertones of her hair growing more vibrant, warping into a bluish-black. That was one reason Hermes was so skilled at collecting information: she could alter her appearance. Nothing extreme, but the subtle changes made all the difference when one was thieving or spying.
Larkspur’s spine stiffened as Hermes cocked her head to the side, the mannerism akin to a hawk. Hermes was sizing Larkspur up as if seeing a hare among the mice and debating if it were clever enough to avoid her talons. Hermes’s dusty-red lips split into an unnerving smile that had me standing straighter, but my little monster only lifted her chin.
“You must be the blood witch. The one who nearly caused Lady Persephone’s death and, in turn, the downfall of the realms.”
“Lark saved me,” Persephone protested, but Hades was determinately silent. “She’s already opened her mind to Hecate and proven her innocence. If your only goal is to condemn her for a crime she’s cleared of, then you may go.”
Hermes glanced between them, the blaze of indignation in her swirling gaze easing into disbelief. I knew what she scented, what everyone in this cursed grove did: Two witches, one smelling like a dark one who’d recently fed on a cheap meal. A bloodwhore. A freak. And the other was the Queen of The Underworld. It made my blood boil.
The messenger for the gods looked upon them and laughed. The harsh sound was more alarming than any threat she could’ve issued. Judging by the way Hades gathered shadows around himself and how Hecate’s palms flared with primed magic, it was clear I wasn’t the only one who was preparing for a fight.
After a moment, Hermes straightened, her eyes now a cold, pitch black. “Such surprising company you keep, Lord Hades. Zeus looks forward to meeting the witches. I do hope Father finds them just as entertaining as I have.”
Persephone and Lark shared a glance as Hermes turned, both having realized they’d unintentionally entered a game neither wanted to be part of.
Light shimmered above Hermes as her fingers whirled. She withdrew a slim, silver staff with a pair of snakes coiling up it. They were arched toward each other with a great pair of wings extending from the silver ball at the center: The Caduceus.
Lifting her chin toward the condensing clouds, Hermes closed her eyes as her staff started to glow. The air pricked with electricity, raising the fine hairs along Larkspur’s arms. A chill raced down her spine, causing her to shiver as my own fists clenched at the threatening display of power. Lord Hades appeared just as tense as I was, his posture rigid as Hermes turned to face him.
“Zeus is arriving shortly Uncle, and he’s eager for answers.”