Bonds of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 2)

I’m too shocked to move.

I just stare at my non-corporeal body.

And stare.

And stare.

And stare some more.

I’m back in the Veil. I lost my physical body. Which means I lost hold of my anchors. Which means they are either gone or…gone.

But they were in the arena. They weren’t far away from me. Which means…

Nope. I can’t. I can’t finish that thought.

I’m not sure how long I float, frozen in shock in the cell, but I hear footsteps and my door suddenly swings open. The guard stares inside, slack-jawed, before cursing and running back out.

“Escaped prisoner!”

Oh, yeah. He means me.

And duh, I’m not trapped in this cell anymore. That’s one thing I have going for me in this intangible body, at least. That, and the fact that I can no longer feel my injuries. That’s a giant relief because those hurt like a bitch.

Yet when I take stock of myself, I can still see the proof or my injuries. Bruised skin, crooked wing, bloodied lip, swollen eye. My body is still the way they left it, I just can’t feel it anymore.

When I look over my shoulder to check out my wing, I’m surprised to see that I’ve acquired a new quiver full of Love Arrows and my trusty cupid bow. That’s certainly a perk. Too bad I didn’t get a Veil reset on my beaten body, but having my bow and arrow back is a win.

I float through the walls, down the empty corridor, and to the entry room. The guard who saw my empty cell is now arguing with two others.

“Go inform the prince at once.”

“I’m not fucking telling him! She didn’t go missing on my watch.”

“Well, I’m not telling him, either!”

“Are you sure she wasn’t in there?”

The fae glares at him. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like she could hide in an empty cell! Besides, they beat her real good. She couldn’t have gotten out on her own.”

He must’ve been the one who held my arms back while I was getting beaten. I hope he’s the one that has to tell the prince that I’m gone. I’m pretty sure Prince Elphar is the type of monarch to shoot the messenger.

A girl can hope.

“She shouldn’t have been able to get out at all!” the other one screams back.

I leave them to it and fly up to the upper floors of the amphitheater. Fae are streaming out in droves. I fly up the stairs, passing right through them, and go all the way to the royal box.

When I get there, the only fae inside are two servant girls cleaning up. “Dammit.”

I need to find the prince or even the princess. One of them will surely talk about me? Then I can figure out what happened. I peer down at the ground of the arena, half-expecting to find bodies. Luckily, I don’t. But the dirt is littered with blood splatters, burnt craters, and deep gouges. If I were physical, I’m sure I’d already be crying.

I take a deep breath.

Well, kinda. I make the motion of breathing, anyway.

“Okay, Emelle. Get it together. Think.”

I fly over the walls of the amphitheater, watching the droves of people already standing in line at portals to be taken back to wherever they came from. I don’t spot any of the royals, but that doesn’t surprise me. I don’t spot the guards who were arguing about me empty cell, either. I do a couple of loops around the lines, but when I still don’t see anyone I recognize, I decide to fly to the castle.

As soon as I’m inside, it’s clear by the bustling servants clearing the place out that the royals have already left. I go to the lower levels, all the way to the castle’s dank bowel to check and see if there are any dungeons.

They took Okot. I need to find him to make sure he’s okay. But either the dungeons are really well hidden or it doesn’t exist, because I don’t find one. Maybe this temporary castle just doesn’t have one? I hope so, because otherwise I run the risk of leaving Okot behind to rot where no one will find him.

I float through the bottom level of the floors, just in case, but all that’s there is stone and dirt. When I get back outside of the castle, I look around at all of the floating islands on the horizon. I don’t recognize any of them.

“Great. Just freaking great.”

I have no idea where I am. I have no idea which direction I need to fly back to get to the kingdom’s island. It’s not like I can take a portal in my current condition. I try anyway.

It doesn’t work. I pass right through. “Dammit!” I glare at all the fae beside me as they pass into the portals, easy as can be. I eavesdrop, too, hoping, yet dreading, to hear how the culling ended, but nobody is going into any specifics and many of them have already moved on to other topics. Apparently, watching fae die brutally isn’t high enough on their list of importance.

My guys could be…dead. And here I am, stuck in the Veil, unable to do anything. Broken and invisible, I have the most powerful fae in the realm as a mortal enemy, and all I have in my arsenal is some love and desire.

I’m a freaking cupid. I’m not equipped to deal with this crap.

Maybe if I were smart, I’d leave right now. Fly as far away as I can and just go back to doing my job. Keep my head down, stay in the Veil where I’m safe, and be a cupid again.

There’s only one problem. Well, four to be exact. I can’t leave them. I also can’t go back to what I was before. Not now that I know. That I’ve felt.

I float up high in the sky, leaving the culling island behind. I don’t realize that I’m flying in the same exact airspace where Okot flew with me until I look down again.

Grief stabs my heart. Okot was dragged into this because of me. He did nothing wrong, but he’s probably being imprisoned, tortured, or killed because of me. The panic inside of me pushes me to hurry; to go, go, go.

I don’t care if he is the prince of the realm, I will make Elphar pay for taking my guys away from me.

I look around at the countless floating islands in the distance. The number alone is staggering. But I have to start somewhere, so I pick north. Doesn’t everyone? It seems like the right direction to go when you’re searching for something.

Except as soon as I start that way, a horde of high fae fly right through me. Jolting in surprise, I wheel around. They’re heading west, and they’re all wearing familiar uniforms.

Royal servants.

I fly after them, sticking in close to the middle. This group either isn’t permitted to use the portal, or they simply want to fly. Flying probably gives them a nice break from all their work.

There are a dozen of them, male and female, and they laugh and do tricks in the air as they zoom around. If I were in my physical form, there’d be no way I could keep up with them.

We fly for a couple of hours at least. Then finally, I see the impressive kingdom island in the distance. A giant river flows right off the side of it, the water landing somewhere far below. The sparkling city spans out against lush gardens and forest. And there, at the edge, lies the huge palace that calls me forward like a beacon.

“Thanks for the directions,” I say to the flock of servants.

They’re flying considerably slower now, as if they don’t quite want to get back. I don’t blame them. I was a servant for, like, three days, and I’m still exhausted.

I head down to the island, through the city’s town square, over the castle walls, past the stables and courtyard, and right through the front doors of the palace. I go straight to Princess Soora’s room.

When I see the familiar purple-colored noble sitting in front of her vanity, I fly right up to her. Two of her handmaidens are busy lacing her in her evening gown and fixing her hair.

“At least I found you,” I tell her.

She looks straight ahead at the mirror, but I can see that her mind is elsewhere. Her face is impassive as usual. One thing I’ve noticed about her is that she doesn’t ever fidget, even when she’s really upset or anxious. She’s too practiced for that. She probably spent her whole life making sure that none of her thoughts or emotions ever showed through unless she wanted them to. But after all the time I’ve spent watching her as her cupid, when she was alone and at her most vulnerable, I’ve learned her tell. I might be the only one who knows it.

It’s small. Barely noticeable. But if you watch closely enough, you can see it, and I’m seeing it now. She sucks in the inside of her cheeks—a tiny part—between her teeth. And she bites. Hard.

She does it so subtly, though. If anyone were to glance at her, it simply looks like her cheeks are slightly more hollowed out than usual. But the real kicker is that she spaces it out. Draw in. Bite. Release. Then she waits sixty, a hundred, maybe two hundred seconds before she does it again.

And again.

And again.

By brutalizing her own cheeks, in spots no one can see, she works out her frustrations. She’ll wash the blood out later. I have no idea how she manages to eat or drink wine after, but she never winces. Her mouth must hurt like hell.

I perch myself on the arm of her chair just like I used to do. “Gods, I wish you could hear me. I wish you could tell me what happened. I’m freaking out here.”

A knock sounds on the door and then one of her personal guards appears. The violet insignia on his armor makes my chest hurt. All I see is Okot dressed in that same armor, seeing me for the first time and looking at me like I was the bees knees. I miss him smelling me.

“Are you ready, Highness?”

Princess Soora stands and walks to the door. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” I ask. Of course, no one answers me.

When we get to the bottom of the stairs, she doesn’t go to the dining room like I thought she would. Instead, she goes past the great hall and into the ballroom, which is in full swing of a grand party.

Of course. Another party. The prince lives for them. He doesn’t know how to sit still or be alone. He’s constantly surrounding himself with fae pawns to play with. The place is packed. There are pixies dancing from platforms hanging off the ceiling, moving to the music in see-through gossamer clothing. High fae, gnomes, bogles, sprites, brownies, you name it, all types of fae are here for the celebration.

Instead of dining tables, this party is set up with chaises and pillowed floors where fae are lounging behind panels of sheer drapery. Rather than hide anything, it just highlights their silhouettes doing all sorts of debauched things.

“My cupid senses are tingling,” I murmur.

I’m practically getting high off the lust in here. There’s also a distinct haziness in the air from whatever is in those pipes that everyone’s smoking. Of course, they’d break out the fae drugs when I don’t have a body to try it.

She cuts across the room, making her way to the gold and cream-colored dais where her husband is already sitting with a pixie perched on each thigh.

Princess Soora doesn’t even acknowledge them. “Husband.”

“Wife.”

The greeting is colder than my first bath.

With that, she leaves to take up her own chaise and is immediately swarmed by fae who want her attention. I stay to watch the prince. He looks perfectly relaxed as he strokes his blue hands up and down the pixies’ bodies, but I can see the clenched jaw and the hard eyes behind the mask.

“Bet you’re pretty pissed I escaped, huh?” I say smugly. Disappearing does have some advantages.

He cuts his eyes to the entrance, and I see a group of fae walk in. Prince Elphar stands, making both pixies fall to the floor with surprised yelps. He ignores them, never taking his eyes off the approaching group.

I try to see over the crowd, but I can’t get a good look at them until they get to the bottom steps of the dais and stop, waiting on the prince. My mouth drops open, and I stagger forward. I leap into Evert’s arms.

And yeah, I go right through him and fall to the floor. My feet go through the floor a little before I can stop, but who cares? I’m so fucking relieved. I want to cry, scream, kiss them stupid, and punch them in the faces for making me so worried.

I touch all three of them, just in case some magic-anchor-mojo happens, and they can somehow pull me back into their dimension, but it doesn’t work. “Of freaking course not.”

I come around to face them again, my eyes taking in their faces with intense scrutiny. “You all look really different. You bathed. And shaved. And got haircuts.”

They look like totally different genfins. If it weren’t for their tails and eyes, I might not have recognized them. Their five-year banishment beards were really wild and scruffy but now, Evert and Sylred are clean-shaven.

It’s weird. Also super hot. But pretty weird.

Ronak opted to just trim his beard shorter. I like it. The hair on their heads is way shorter, too. Ronak’s brown hair is shortest of all. He barely has anything left up there, so I’m glad he kept some on his face, at least.

Sylred’s blonde hair is a bit longer, styled in messy spikes. Evert has left his black hair the longest. He has it sexily flopped to the side, like he’s been running his hands through it.

“You three clean up good,” I say through a choked voice. I notice that they’ve finally been healed, too.

Thank the gods that they’re not dead. They must’ve been transported through a portal, leaving the island immediately after they won the culling. That’s why I suddenly got thrown into the Veil again. My anchors were too far away from me. The chains snapped, and I drifted away.

They didn’t die. They’re okay. Those truths go on replay in my brain.

I may have lost my anchor to the physical world, but I didn’t lose them. And even if I can never talk to or touch them again, I’m grateful for that.

“I love you assholes,” I whisper.

They don’t hear me, and I hate that.

“Kneel.”

I whip my head around at the prince, sending him a glare.

My guys get to their knees, as does another fae male. He must’ve been the only other contestant to survive the culling. He’s cleaned up, too, probably dressed up by one of the palace handmaidens before being forced to stand before the prince.

The music and revelry has stopped, and everyone is watching the spectacle.

“Congratulations on your victory in the culling trials.” Prince Elphar says. He doesn’t sound congratulatory at all. “Twenty-five contestants entered. Four survived.”

The prince watches them as if he’d like to turn into a lion and rip out their throats. The four of them keep their heads down, knees against the marble floor. “You are right where you belong. On your knees. Before your prince. Ready to beg forgiveness for your transgressions and swear fealty to the crown,” he says in a quieter voice, his tone filled with evil amusement. I see Ronak’s fists clench. “The king is indisposed, so you may make your declarations to me.”

As one, they all speak. “By all the fae before whom this declaration is witnessed, I swear fealty to the crown. Through the laws of the royal culling, I have been castigated and tested. The gods of the realm have seen to absolve my offenses. The crown has thus seen to forgive in their righteous mercy. I swear now to submit myself to the will of the crown and the gods. Long live the king. Long live the prince. Long live the princess of the realm.”

They all say it perfectly in harmony, which is no simple feat. “You guys totally practiced that.”

The prince lets them sweat it out for a few more moments on their knees, in the deafening silence. He finally moves his hand and says, “Rise.”

When they do, he looks each of them in the eye. “It seems the gods have allowed you to prove yourselves worthy of this realm again. You will not get another chance. Displease the crown again, and you shall be executed, no matter your noble status.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I snap.

“Go. Celebrate your victory and your return to society.”

They bow before him and then turn away. I follow the guys like a lost puppy hoping for a scrap. The moment they step away from the dais, fae nobles swarm them. They’re congratulating them, talking about bets won and lost on their behalf like it’s not incredibly insulting to have someone bet on your life. Then there are the suicidal fae twits who start flirting with them, some even having the audacity to put their hands on my genfins.

Yeah, my genfins. There’s no doubt about that anymore, and I can’t lie to myself or to them about helping them find another mate after this. There’s no way I can do that. I’m going to have to break my word as a cupid, but eff it. I’m terrible at my job, anyway.

“I’m memorizing all of your faces right now,” I say, narrowing my eyes at the stupid females with their stupid tangible bodies. Luckily for the hussies, my genfins have the good sense to politely break away from their fair-weather fans.

You’d never guess that just the night before, these were the same dirty, beaten genfins locked in a cage that everyone scorned and ridiculed. You’d never guess that these same fae now fawning over them were the same ones that mocked and sneered at them last night.

These fae change loyalty like a stripper changes lingerie. Different for every audience but still just as put-on.