18. “…why don’t we mix business with a little punishing pleasure?”

Chapter 18

"…why don't we mix business with a little punishing pleasure?"

MORPHEUS

"Enter Sandman" by Metallica

A fter I've dealt with the storm and the astral beasts, I follow Zenya's essence trail. It's like black, glittery breadcrumbs.

Once the storm hit, my first priority was harnessing and subduing it. As long as she returned to the House of Mirrors, Zenya would be safe.

Her trail led from my castle to a portal in the wall and into this dark forest with the fusion of lost dreams. Pride in her triggers heated desire and surges blood right for my cock. I recognize this new dreamscape is where her duality merges. She has found the balance, coupling her light and darkness into a mesmerizing blend of radiance and shadow.

Much like my world, but while anyone can dream darkness into being or light, the essence of my alchemy and cell matter is neutral—neither good nor evil. I like to think of myself as morally gray —spanning far beyond the fifty shades nature.

Approaching the clearing, I conceal myself behind the trees. Smoke from the bonfire curls toward me, but the air is laced with the perfume of incense and cinnamon.

When I notice the familiar figure of Hecate lounging upon a bed of moss with her hounds surrounding her, I knead my brow and cage a groan. My wing muscles tighten.

For fuck's sake! I recognize Nyxion's hand in this. No coincidence that the Goddess of Crossroads and Magic has paid a visit to my realm. A secret visit since she masked her essence, permitting me to follow Zenya's alone. She's certainly not trying to hide now.

The primal look of hunger in her eyes as she fixes her eyes on Zenya is not lost on me. Or how her body is free from any manner of tension.

One flick of my eyes to glance at Zenya. She forges fire right to my core—in more ways than one.

Gods, the mark upon her brow is unmistakable. A surreal but simplistic torchlight tattoo—so much like a wisp but with a black outline and soft purple filling to mirror Zenya's hair. As if we didn't have enough problems with our war. Now, Hecate has thrown her hat in the ring. She has placed a claim upon Zenya with such a mark.

For a moment, I observe my little wonder.

Of course, Hecate is practically drooling over the sight of the mortal dancing in nothing but her skin. The firelight gilds her fair skin and seems to outline her tattoos. They pulse upon her skin, timed to the rhythm of her bare feet as she twirls and spins, her pretty breasts jiggling deliciously. The nipples are hard and flushed raw from a recent sucking.

I roll my eyes when noticing the dogs around Hecate—how their eyes gleam upon Zenya, but they are also devoid of tension. Hecate may pass her magic to these extensions of herself, so it's little surprise she set her hounds upon the girl's lovely form.

I'm sure my dreamer loved every moment.

With her long lean legs, Zenya is built for backpacking and climbing. She's a decent dancer but not a graceful one. Little does it matter given the state of her emotions. The freedom she exhibits in her dance—as if she's wearing her very soul so loosely on her skin, might as well be a wet dream to someone like Hecate. And myself.

Eyeing Hecate, Zenya raises her hands in a tempting curl, thrusts her hips out, and does a sweet little twirl, swinging her hair around in a beguiling circle. Locks flick at her cheeks, but she sweeps them back and blows Hecate a kiss.

The Goddess smirks and conjures a gold tray laden with sweet grapes. A goblet of wine next to her.

A heavy sigh releases from my throat. I recognize the balance at work. Her dark left is for Nyxion. Her bright right is for me.

And Hecate? She is the place where Zenya's dual natures coalesce. Little wonder the Goddess was drawn to her and Zenya to Hecate.

Ahh, there is our little hellcat. I shake my head with an internal laugh as Zenya grips some low-lying branches and climbs the tree, careless of the bark scraping her exposed skin. She doesn't stop until she reaches the top, arches her back, and belts out a soprano howl at the moon.

Hecate's dogs return the howl.

Now, that was far more impressive than dancing around the fire, and the carnal glint in Hecate's eye confirms.

Once Zenya climbs back down and twirls, presenting her ass with its crow and dove wing tattoos, Hecate's eyes narrow with hunger.

No more waiting.

Wings curving, I emerge into the clearing, advance right for my little wonder, and seize her by the waist from behind. My shadows storm around her. She stiffens, and the fire ebbs, but I slide my fingers along her collarbone, taking more power in the hyoid bone I've fused there. Once I've extended my claws around her throat, it doesn't take long for Zenya to melt against me.

"Morpheus!" she gasps before a whimper escapes.

Firmly gripping her throat, I scrape my teeth along her jaw and purr, "Having a bit of magical fun tonight, aren't you, my wonder?"

"Oh, don't worry, Morpheus, I still love your magical touch," she soothes my frustrated ego needlessly while coiling her hands up and behind my head, clutching at my hair.

"Perhaps I'll need to punish you for running away, little weaver." I bring my hand down to strike her pretty pussy, targeting her pierced clit, thrilling in her yelp. Her fingers dig into my hair while her back arches. She presses her wet cunt against my palm. I start to move my wings around her.

"Now, now, Morpheus…" Hecate coos, her voice needling into my spine while her dogs prowl around the three of us. "Zenya may be a glutton for punishment, and as much as I would love to watch your finesse, we have business to discuss." She rounds my side and drapes her covetous knuckles along my mortal's arm.

"I know your business ," I growl without releasing what is mine. My shadows possessively spiral around every inch of Zenya. I cup one luscious breast and pinch her pierced nipple, eliciting a delicious moan.

"Well, then…why don't we mix business with a little punishing pleasure?" She grins and bares her teeth, eyes gleaming upon Zenya before they flick to me.

I arch a brow. She tilts her head and licks her lips. I read between the lines. And smirk.

"I don't know who is worse. Nyxion or you and Hecate when you team up," Zenya mutters from where we've spread her upon my supper table as our buffet platter.

"If you're so uncomfortable,"—Hecate says and trails her chopsticks along Zenya's rib cage tattoo,—"you may always weave yourself an exit door."

The mortal darts her eyes to each side, glancing at each of us before offering a soft smile and chirping, "I'm fine."

"Good. Because…in the art of nyotaimori, the platter for the food must be silent and still. We will be watching, dream weaver," warns Hecate, waving her chopsticks before turning to me.

With a chuckle, I lean back in my seat, relaxing my wings, and take a moment to admire our platter. Red silk ropes bind her to the table, coiling around her knees like crimson serpents, keeping her open and on display. Zenya's arms remain crossed in the small of her back. It lures her into a delicate arch, thrusting her breasts out for us.

She is like a lovely little moth pinned to our table.

Colorful sashimi, like a rainbow, lies across her belly—salmon, tuna, yellowtail, mackerel. Sushi adorns her ribs. Cuts of eel between her breasts, drizzled with rich, erotic sauce. Salmon roe, these tiny morsels of eggs spiral around her nipples. Royal purple orchids frame her sex. A flask of sake lies between her thighs.

As Hecate and I prepare to conduct business, Zenya does her best to breathe shallowly so she doesn't disturb the delicacies. For now, she serves as a decoration. And since the subject matter will revolve around her, it will be interesting to see how she responds.

I lift the flask of sake, smirking at how Zenya's body heat has warmed the wine. My shadows brush her skin as I fill my cup and offer it to Hecate, who nods gratefully and fills hers, too. When we are done, I lightly grind the flask against the mortal's folds, pleased by how she remains perfectly still.

Hints of jasmine perfume the air along with the oily aroma of the salty fish.

After Hecate takes a cut of eel with her chopsticks, and I help myself to a slice of yellowtail from our platter's belly, the Goddess commences the discussion. "What have you told her, Morpheus?"

I wave my chopsticks in the air and shrug. "Not much. We've been far too busy enjoying our time together, haven't we, Zenya?" I savor the yellowtail, then select one of the sushi rolls, prodding her ribs with my chopsticks.

Zenya remains stoic, but I detect a slight tug of one corner of her mouth as if to say, Nice try, Morpheus. Smug-ass little dreamer.

"As enjoyable as she is, Lord of Dreams, there has never been a war between the Oneiroi as intense as this one," Hecate points out and chooses a dragon roll from Zenya's side.

Gooseflesh sprouts on our little mortal's skin. Her arousal glistens on her labia. The torch tattoo along her brow seems to glow with an inner light. Goddess light.

"I am aware."

One by one, the sushi rolls disappear from Zenya's flesh. An oily sheen is left behind, coating her skin with a shine. She is a treasure we are unearthing with every bite.

"The world of mortals will be impacted." Hecate tilts her head and examines a salmon egg, the size of a pea.

The Goddess lowers it to Zenya's lips, tempting her, but our dreamer does not move. Utterly motionless. Her lips are lightly parted but still, even as Hecate tantalizes her with the rosy jewel, rubbing it along her lower lip. Still, Zenya does not respond. Such a good little platter.

"Dreams and nightmares will grow aggressive and more frequent," continues Hecate. "Hypnos will sense the impact and the withering of his power."

"Oh, Daddy likes me best. I'm sure he will love Zenya once I introduce her."

Hecate sighs and traces her chopsticks around Zenya's nipple. "Morpheus, you could stand to take things a little more seriously."

"What's the fun in that?" I fold my hands behind my back and wink at Zenya. That slight tug of the corner of her lips. But she doesn't so much as blink.

Hecate rolls her eyes. "I should have known not to have an adult conversation with a man who still acts like a child on his playground of dreams."

"What can I say?" I open my palms. "The subconscious world is my oyster. And I have pearls to harvest." Flexing my wings, I select a flushed pink one from Zenya's right nipple, touching my chopstick to the stiff bud, lingering. A quick intake of breath, but she otherwise stays calm.

"You know why I am here…"

Tension tightens my wings. "Obviously. Nyxion sent you."

"I agreed to open the border for him."

I curl my upper lip in a silent snarl, possessively curving my wings toward my little wonder. Zenya's breath heaves and cleaves with her anxiety. Righteously so. I can only imagine the punishment Nyxion has in store for her. But it's not lost on me how the heat between her legs grows at such a notion. Or how her heart rate kicked up a notch.

Thankfully, she is in my realm tonight, and if my dastardly older brother comes to reclaim what we've both rightfully stolen, I will ensure he never sees the light of day again. He will perform his nightmares in a never-ending prison of dreams for eternity.

Hecate swirls her wine. "Provided he grants me access to all mortal nightmares…as you will allow me to do the same with dreams."

"Why would I do that?" I curl my shadows casually between my fingers despite the thickening tension.

"Because my magic will be mutually beneficial for us all. It will bring a sense of peace and inspiration to the subconscious world to compensate for the loss of deeper periods of sleep. If it should incite urges for women to embrace their dark femininity, so be it."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. "Far be it from me to deny the great Queen of Witches the igniting of her pagan princesses."

"Indeed."

With a wave of her hand, Hecate replaces the food arrangements, but a few salmon roe slip from Zenya's breasts due to her heavier breaths. Her pulse is thready, but I also sense her stirring desire perfuming her pussy with her sweet arousal. Whether she will admit it or not, she still desires my brother as she does me.

I curl my shadows along her skin, granting her more of my presence before lowering my head and claiming her mouth. Her lips part for mine, and the whimper escaping is like a musical note resonating into my chest.

The doors of my court thunder open with a great crash, causing Zenya to startle. A low growl rumbles in my chest as I register that Hecate used the nyotaimori as a little diversion to bring the border down.

I give Zenya more of my shadows along the sides of her body, a clear sign of how I will protect her as Nyxion storms into my Court, sweeps his robe back to show his rotting corpse, and growls within our collective bond, Look who's still standing, little brother.

With a wry smirk, I lift my goblet to my lips and muse, "More like rattling."

Nyxion waltzes up to the table, eyeing the three of us before settling on me. I see the table is set for betrayal. How charming. Let's add a dash of dread, shall we? He sweeps away the chair at the other end of the table, the one closer to Zenya's feet, and conjures a throne of bones for himself. With a proud fury, he rests each bony hand on the femur armrests. Consider this my RSVP for my hyoid bone…and my little killer.

Zenya doesn't have time to respond when another familiar figure enters the court, garbed in a regal red gown. Fortunately, Ivy is not here this time.

"Forgive the Crimson Queen for being fashionably late," Phantasos proclaims and helps herself to the seat next to Hecate. Nyxion sneers as usual.

"Oh, Mistress of Magic, how lovely to see you again." Crimson Queen extends a hand with scarlet-tipped nails, and Hecate takes her hand and kisses her knuckles with a flourish.

"Now…" Crimson Queen glances at each of us, folding her hands on the table. "I see the table is set." She flashes Zenya a dazzling smile, and Zenya beams back, far more at ease from our middle sibling's presence. Crimson Queen lifts her goblet in an opening toast. "Here's hoping for a dinner that's more feast than folly!"