Everything was sofucked. Staring at the vacant, black eyes and crispy skin as servants started sawing off hunks of meat, I realized how outmatched I was—a single sow surrounded by ravenous wolves—but I couldn’t just give up, at least not yet.
The chair screeched across the polished floors as I pushed from the table. The room swam as I stood, my body swaying from the loss of blood. Morpheus was there offering me a hand as if he hadn’t just violated me in the worst way.
“No,” I muttered, recoiling from his touch to retreat into the numbness of my mind. It was better if I didn’t feel, just for a little while.
“Come now, girl,” Poseidon said. His words were muffled as he spoke, fatty pieces of pork and spit spraying out as he chewed. He reached for the goblet in front of him as I stumbled for the door. “Let your prince tend to you. It’s one of the perks of being owned.”
My stomach twisted as shame clawed at me. Each step I took caused the mending skin along my neck to pull as the wash of blood finally started to slow. The metallic scent of my own blood coating the air, paired with the amused laughter of the gods after witnessing my mortification, caused bile to burn the back of my throat.
“Lark, wait!” Persephone’s voice trailed after me as I flew through the double doors and down the hallway, only slightly stumbling.
She nearly caught me as I rounded the corner to my room. Her cheeks were flushed, breasts heaving over the tight corset of her golden dress. My first thought was to ensure she didn’t faint from the exertion in such a garment, but the scent of her fear-tinged pity doused the air in the next breath, and I slammed the door in her face.
I’m not sure how long Persephone waited outside my door. Her muffled apologies were overshadowed by the hammering of my rapid heartbeat thrumming in my ears until I finally realized she wasn’t going to force her way in. Dizziness invaded my vision as I turned off the shower, my fingers griping on the gilded knob for purchase as I tripped over slick tiles and braced myself on the marbled counters in front of the mirror.
Steam coated every surface, a reminder that I’d turn the water as hot as I could as I scrubbed the night away. It felt oddly familiar to be surrounded by mist—no, not mist, steam. There was a prickling sensation in the back of my mind that yearned to return to the cold. Once Psyche was safe and all of this wasbehind me, maybe I could find a quiet place in the mountains, surrounded by banks of pristine white and playful snow leopards with serpents as tails.
I closed my eyes, shaking the ridiculous thought from my mind. Securing a towel across my chest, I reached up, wiping a section of the mirror clean to stare at my reflection. There was a hollowness beneath my green eyes, one I’d seen too many times in the past—the haunting look that comes after realizing they’ve taken something from you.
That was the worst part—not Morpheus or even that fucked up display of control that happened, but the spiral it sent me down from the haunted memories of my past. The wound on my neck had already healed, just like previous bruises and cuts had over the years under other unwarranted touches. But that feeling of being invaded never left.
Maybe it was a weakness on my part. Maybe others really were able to move past it. Some had tried to help me. Comfort me. They’d told me, ‘Time heals all.’ One witch among The Earth Coven even went as far as telling me the atoms of our body regenerated. She said there would be a time in the distant future when the molecules that made up my body then would be gone. And I would be untouched by the past.
Maybe that was true, but my mind—my soul—was forever marred.
What Morpheus had done wasn’t like the others, not nearly as shattering, but it felt similar in the worst type of way. He’d awakened that broken part of my past—of myself—tearing out the sutures I’d only just managed to stitch.
And Persephone expected me to stay with him through The Underworld?I didn’t fucking think so.
I allowed myself a minute—one minute of taking deep breaths—before I stared back at the hardened eyes of my reflection.
“Time to get shit done, bitch.” I forced myself to keep eye contact, wishing I could use persuasion on myself. It was a tactic I’d taken comfort in as soon as my magic manifested. “You don’t need them. You never did.”
Dropping the damp towel to the floor, I reached for the bundle of clothes and willed myself to believe the lie.
MORPHEUS
It felt like my entire existence had just been shredded by a horde of angry furies. I wanted to run after Larkspur, to explain why I had to do it, but all I could hear was the disgusting tittering of Zeus and Poseidon, making a mockery of the situation by talking about over-emotional women.
“You heard her,” Poseidon remarked to the young woman, refilling his glass for the third time. His cheeks had gone rosy from the wine, the tan to his skin taking on a shining, sweating quality. “Shelikedit.”
Everything in me wanted to flit across this table and smash that wine goblet over his head before dragging the shards across his throat. I could do it. I knew I could, but I wouldn’t have enough time to block Zeus’s retaliation. Nor Ares. At least not here.
I doubted the others would intervene, but I needed The Olympians gone as soon as possible both for Larkspur’s sake and mine.
Larkspur.Gods, my little monster was more extraordinary than I could’ve imagined. Her blood was honey-sweet with a touch of spice. It danced along my nerves, the warm liquid rolling over my tongue.
My little monster had done beautifully. The way her body coiled around mine, the thrum of her magic like gasoline poured over hot coals. And the sounds she made.Fuck, my cock was getting hard just thinking about it.
I felt her desire, her needy cunt yearning for my touch, but it was the fucking vulnerability pulsing through her that undid me. Because my little monster hadtrustedme.
But then my fangs sank deeper, control slipping out of my grasp as Larkspur’s shadows wrapped around my mind, coaxing me to take more. I’d never lost control, not in all the years of my long life. I’d fed from hundreds of dark ones. I was prepared for the rush of emotions and occasional thoughts that sometimes flowed between a source and their feeder, but it never felt like this.
Her deep, green eyes—it felt like they could stare straight through me. Larkspur was blood and darkness, peace and temptation woven together into an irresistible call that promised to satisfy my every desire, and yet still kept me wanting for more. Begging for another lick of her delicious essence.
Fuck, was she powerful. And so godsdamn beautiful. She wasn’t lying about never being fed from before. I could tell that much of the flash of betrayed surprise that flickered between us right before her magic surged. The others acted like Larkspur was a liability. Even Persephone shot her wary glances occasionally. They didn’t understand her.
It was infuriating.