Page 35 of Summer's Seduction

I was soaring over Mount Ruin, shame and regret churning in my gut as the mist parted, revealing a shimmering door on the side of the mountain. There was a shriek as I dove for the ledge, blonde hair flying up.

Then I was standing at the foot of a bed in one of the back rooms at The Playground, my body rocking as I slammed into the woman bent over the edge. Music was booming, and other couples in the room were moaning and writhing with pleasure. My partner for the night was no different, but I was numb. Staring off into space as my fingers gripped the meat of her ass,wishing that one day fucking would be more than just a release with a faceless stranger.

Something like a growl rumbled in Lark’s throat as she sank her fangs deeper, the scene shifting again.

I laughed as I tore through the group of dark ones, my voice pitching with a manic ring. The women and children yelled, calling me a beast, a villain, a nightmare from the darkest recesses of their minds.

And I was. I stabbed and sliced anyone who came toward me, my speed keeping my injuries to a minimum. When the men started to run, I chased them, hunting them down like the monster I was.

Another slight tug from Larkspur pulled us back to a time when I was young and not yet crafted into The Prince of Darkness.

I sat on the banks of The Lethe, throwing citrine stones into the gently flowing waters, wishing there was a way I could cross them and leave this place. I’d only just turned thirteen. My wings were finally maturing, but it would still be another ten years before I could fly rather than flutter around like a child.

“Rough day?”

The deep voice sounded from my right, the stones crunching as his thick boots brought him closer. Drawing my knees into my chest, I glanced up, finding piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

I shrugged as he drew nearer, knowing he’d seen all he needed to today. His dark skin and clothes were still splattered with red, the metallic scent causing my fangs to throb despite the revulsion twisting my stomach.

So many families… dead. They’d been furies, a group aligned with The Dark Faction who bowed to Lord Hades before acknowledging my father. That was their only crime—respecting The Lord of The Underworld more than Lord Hypnos, andmy father had them slaughtered for it. As if their lives meant nothing.

Egerius was one of my father’s longest friends and most trusted allies, but I secretly thought he liked me more. He was the one who spent hours training with me. The one who’d showed me how to stitch up a cut when healers weren’t near, and which herbs and fruits were safe to eat in the forest of the north. But more than anything—especially in times like these—I thought this was how having a father should feel.

Maybe the fates had gotten things mixed up. I wasn’t cut out for war, for slaughtering creatures of The Underworld. Sure, learning how to sword fight was fun, and I liked seeing different parts of our kingdom, but Father wanted me to be feared… and all I wanted was for someone to be my friend because they wanted to, not because of who I would one day become.

Egerius knew that. He understood I’d rather be learning new songs on my violin than memorizing where to throw a dagger for a killing blow, and still, he’d done nothing to stop what had happened this morning.

With a long, heavy sigh, Egerius sat next to me, looking out at the water as he spoke. “Sometimes, being a leader means you have to do things you don’t like. It can feel wrong, and your gut can tell you to turn away, but the peace must be kept.”

I shook my head, unable to speak with the level of anger and grief racing through my veins. Father had thrown the girl at my feet. She cried out in agony as the white of her splintered bone sticking through the flesh of her thigh shifted on impact. Blood was pouring from the wound, her skin pale and clammy, but she raised her head, meeting my gaze.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I need to find my little brother. He’s all alone.”

‘Finish her,’ Hypnos yelled, his lip curling as the blade in my hand shook.

’She’s younger than me,’ I breathed, unable to look away from the green eyes silently pleading with me to let her live. She had orange freckles across her skin and bright hair that reflected the fires burning around us. Fierce, and yet she couldn’t conceal the terror seeping from her veins. ‘Surely, she’s not a threat.’

The back of my father’s hand smacked me across the cheek, sending me sprawling to the ground next to her. Blood coated my tongue as my ears rang.Good, I’d thought. Maybe if he strikes me hard enough, I can forget this.But Hypnos leaned in, yanking up my head until I could see the trembling girl.

‘She is a traitor to your throne, boy. And we have no mercy for traitors.’ Father quickly jerked his chin, holding mine in place as Egerius stepped forward with his blade drawn.

‘No!’ I yelled, lunging forward. But the blade had already found purchase in the girl’s chest. And the thrumming beat of her heart had stopped.

LARKSPUR

Morpheus pulled back, breaking the hold I’d had on his wrist as he stood from the bench and toed the line of the pool behind him. His chest was heaving, face flushed despite the blood loss, and when I glanced at the wound I’d fed from moments ago, it was only to find two faint pink marks. My brows rose at how quickly he healed. I knew he was powerful, but that… that was neargodlevel.

What was far more unnerving was the way Morpheus was looking at me. His eyes were searching my own, pulse thrumming as if he thought I would judge him. Like I could. Like the sins of my past weren’t just as terrible. Different? Maybe, but we both bore scars that were too deep to ever fully heal. He’d shown me a lot, but the feeling underlying his decisions pierced something in my armored heart.

“Say something,” Morpheus breathed, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. The dark strands fell right back to where they were, framing his face perfectly. The cocky grin of The Dark Prince was gone, replaced by a yawning rawness. How did I never see it?

Everything in his life had been an act, a mask he donned to survive, to make this existence a little less miserable—just like me.

“You used to play the violin?” My cheeks heated as soon as I asked the question. It was pointless, but that image of Morpheus, heir to the kingdoms of the north as a young boy who held such joy for the instrument, was stuck in my mind, embedded in the muscle of my tormented heart.

Morpheus blinked a moment before he broke into a disbelieving laugh. He shook his head, the tension coiling through his body a moment ago dissipating as he grinned at me. “You need a bath, little monster. And now that you’ve fed, I know you won’t drown while bathing. Everything you need is here, and I’m sure Megara has already had clothes sent over for you.”

“Wait,” I called. My brows furrowed as he turned to leave, disappointment lashing through me.

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