Page 10 of Summer's Seduction
“What was the point of that?” Hecate seethed, her voice dropping as fire blazed in her deep, green eyes.
“He’s an entitled bastard,” Larkspur chimed in, gesturing toward me. “Bastards do shitty things.”
The barb of that word rang through me, but there was a lightness to my little monster’s gaze. She didn’t know of my past, at least not the vulnerabilities of how that word pricked. Good. Because she’d already seen far too much of me from our brief encounters.
Allowing my grin to stretch until I was sure my fangs were on display, I shrugged and put my hands in my pockets. Myappearance clearly confirmed my parent’s affair—the fangs from my mother and the golden hue of my eyes from my father’s lineage. It had haunted me all my life, but I’d learned how to take their scorn and use it to my advantage. “It takes one to know one, little monster.”
“You son of a?—”
“Ah-Ah,” I cut in, flitting the few steps between us and lifting my finger to her lips. They were plump and soft, the dusty rose color stark against my pale skin. I wondered if she tasted just as delicious as she looked—wondered how fucking perfect she would look with those lips swollen and used, tears glistening down her cheeks. “There’s no need to speak ill of the dead.”
Larkspur batted my hand away. “Bastard.”
“Yes, I think we’ve established that.” Her brows furrowed at the tinge of bitterness that bled through my voice, her anger giving way to something worse. Something that felt much too close to pity.
“Really,” Hecate cut in, exacerbation dripping from the words as she stepped between us, her back to me as she faced Larkspur. “You’re going to need to find a way to work with him if you want any chance of finding your sister. I’d like to help, but with the covens in disarray and Hypnos on the loose, I’m needed here. Morpheus might be insufferable?—”
“Hey,” I protested playfully. Hecate was immune to my antics, but I was rewarded with Larkspur’s smoldering glare. I wondered if she knew how close hatred was to love. If she thought about how fucking explosive we could be.
“And entitled,” Hecate continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “But he’s your only shot at Hades trusting you enough to leave The Asphodel Plains.”
Lark nodded, a lock of her umber hair tumbling forward to brush the dark skin of her cheek. There was a faint splashof freckles there I hadn’t noticed before. Another touch of unrivaled beauty.
“We’ll get through whatever threat Zeus is issuing tonight,” Hecate reassured her. “Then we’ll find Hypnos and be done with this once and for all.”
“All of this is,” Lark breathed, glancing at the organized chaos swirling through the room as the massive table was dressed in golden cloths and vases filled with freshly cut wildflowers. “Allof thisis so Zeus can complain about Hypnos?”
Hecate started shaking her head, trying to find a way to explain the threat in a way Larkspur could understand, but I doubted even she knew the extremes my father could go to. “Hypnos is cunning and far more skilled at evasion than the gods realize.”
Larkspur turned those green doe-eyes up at me, her hatred radiating through the small distance between us. The air grew charged and electricity raised the hair on the back of my arms even with my leather trench coat in place.
Everyone stopped. Hecate was frozen to the spot, eyes wide, and all sounds of chatter had silenced. But my little monster had all her focus on me, oblivious to the serpent appearing in the garden. I knew what the single of electricity in the air meant. I realized who had manifested at the head of the table behind her.
The God of Gods had forgone his over-the-top announcement and accustomed entourage he loved so much, choosing instead to appear without warning. He must have wanted to catch Hades off guard, to have us scrambling on our knees for him. But I wouldn’t entertain his games. If Zeus wanted to come in like a nobody, I’d act like he was.
“Hypnos let Demeter think she was in control,” I said, talking only to my little monster and ignoring the god at Larkspur’s back. “He let the realms believe he was weak when he was strong, defenseless when there were layers of protection inplace. You think he’s fled?” A low, bitter laugh escaped me, causing Larkspur’s pulse to flutter. “He’s just getting started.”
Lightning cracked through the room, reflected by the thousands of jewels overhead. Larkspur gasped as she spun, finding Zeus's smoldering eyes fading to their usual icy blue. I saw her body tremble, the small, reflexive movement igniting a wave of protective rage I’d only ever felt once before.
“You will tell me everything you know about Hypnos, boy,” Zeus boomed, waiting for me to coward like the rest of them, but I refused.
With my hands in my pockets and an infuriatingly arrogant smirk set in place, I approached the head of the long, adorned table with slow, measured strides. Each small delay caused the electricity humming in the air to grow, revealing more of Zeus’s true nature.
He was everything a god should never be: egotistical and entitled, but his paranoia made him unpredictable. After centuries of Hades slowly withdrawing his influence in The Above, it was time to remind them that Hades was, first and foremost, an Olympian—one of the three founding brothers. Once Zeus realized his brother was not only capable but ready for battle, I would have both of them hunting for my father while I rebuilt all that had been lost and neglected in the north. The crown and titles meant nothing to me, but my people deserved peace.
It wasn’t until Hades’s shadows opened and a chilly breeze of darkness billowed through the room surrounding him and his golden queen that I acknowledged The God of Lightning.
“Lord Zeus,” I bowed, far too shallow for his liking. “Welcome to The Underworld.”
LARKSPUR
Morpheus was insane. He must have lost his fucking mind because it looked like he was not only toying with the King of the Gods but doing so in front of The Lord of The Underworld. And fuck if I didn’t want to watch the fallout.
“Perhaps we should settle in for dinner?” Morpheus suggested as he strolled toward the head of the table with his hands in his pockets. “After all, Lord Hades has gone through an awful lot of trouble to welcome you.”
Hades’s jaw clenched, but the flickering bolts of lightning had him holding his tongue, waiting to see if Morpheus would build a bridge or dig a grave.
Morpheus’s black trench coat hung low, grazing the tops of his leather boots. The edge of his collarbones was visible through the low vee-neck of his top, and long strands of his silky hair were half pulled back. His full lips were tilted into a I-don’t-give-a-fuck smirk, which I’d realized was his default expression. But I couldn’t help thinking there might be more to him.