Sheer Cupidity: A Standalone Cupidity Romance (Heart Hassle Book 5)

LEX

Belren and I went to the other hearth hob islands on the seer’s list, but found nothing. The second one was so small we could walk from one end of the island to the other in about a hundred steps, so it was clear no one was hiding there. The third had a close-knit collection of fae who probably only said a handful of words in the entire two days we were there, and there was a strict no visitors policy, so we struck out there too.

We doubled back to the first island again, and we’ve been searching all across it for several days, but not once have we heard even a whisper of anything about Princess Soora. Nothing even remotely political has been said, nor has Emelle tried to call me for an update. I’d be doubting Chuckrey’s legitimacy if it weren’t for the fact that he saw Belren. It’s probably the only reason that keeps me hopeful and searching, no matter how fruitless it seems.

But this wild goose chase isn’t what’s truly frustrating me. Nope, my chagrin is entirely selfish. Since that night, Belren hasn’t been able to touch me. Not once.

After he’d given me pleasure, I stayed locked in his lap for a long time until I started yawning and my stomach grumbled. Together, we held hands all the way back into the town where I found an inn to get cleaned up, eat, and sleep. But when I woke up the next morning and he tried to reach for me, his hand went right through me.

It’s been like that ever since.

I wish I knew what it was that was making it possible for us to touch. But for the life of me, I can’t figure it out. Even though it shouldn’t be possible, I still worry that our lack of touch now means something bad. I also worry that this unfinished business has hit a lull, and that’s what has him in a rut. Will the fates take him away if I can’t keep my end of the deal?

He won’t talk about it, but Belren is troubled. I don’t know if it’s only the touch thing that’s bothering him or if there’s something else, but sometimes, I catch him looking off into the distance. I might be bad with my sense of direction, but I have a gut feeling that he’s always looking back toward his deathplace.

Right now, we’re sitting outside on a polished stone fence, watching hearth hobs walk by on the clean cobbled street. There are a few other types of fae around too, but not very many. Considering their very strict rules on cleanliness here, I’m not that surprised. There are framed notices in very neat handwriting hung up on most public posts that say if you should soil or sully anything, you’ll be imprisoned for an indeterminate amount of time.

I mean…I’m sure their jail is very well tended, but still.

“Should we try to fly around and see if there’s another town on this island?” I offer, eyes idly following the people who pass us.

Belren is staring straight ahead, scowling. That scowl has evolved slowly over the past few days. First, when he couldn’t touch me again, it started off as the tiniest pucker of his brow. Then it accompanied a slight downturn of his mouth. Now, it’s a full blown glare, as if he’s angry at the world.

“We tried that. We didn’t see any.”

“True, but maybe we should look harder?”

“No.”

At his short answer, I look over at him from the corner of my eyes. “Alright…” I concede. “Do you want to try going through some of their houses? Maybe they’re more likely to gossip in the privacy of their homes.”

He snorts, still looking forward. “Doubt it.”

Irritation niggles up my spine, and my wings flare a bit before snapping against my back. “Fine,” I say, blowing out a breath as I try to keep my polite, positive tone. “Then what about—”

Belren cuts me off. “Don’t you get it?” he demands, tone pissed off. “It’s useless. Nothing is going to work.”

“Don’t snap at me,” I admonish, my shoulders as prickly as my thinning patience. “I’m just trying to come up with ways that can help.”

He finally moves his head to scowl in my direction instead of the air. “You ever think there is no help?” he retorts.

I know he has every reason to be frustrated, but that still doesn’t give him the right to be rude to me. “No, I don’t. Because unlike you, I’m not just going to give up and sit here all sullen and pouting. I said I’d find Princess Soora, so that’s what I’m going to do.” I jerk a finger toward his face. “And if you’re just going to pout, then I’ll do it without you!”

Belren jumps down off the fence and spins around to face me like an angry god. His silvery skin is darker, like a storm is brewing right there on his face. Even his eyes flash like impending lightning. He slaps his hands down on the wall on either side of me, leaning in until we’re face to face, and I suck in a useless breath, frozen as he cages me in.

“You sure as hell won’t be doing it without me,” he snarls. “But I’ll let you in on a secret—I don’t even care about the damned traitor princess! What I really want to know is why the fuck can’t we touch?”

There it is.

His fury is like a boom of thunder, rattling my emotions. “I don’t know!” I yell back, thankful that I’m in the Veil and no one can hear me. “But regardless of that, we are finding Soora, because this is your unfinished business in the first place!”

Belren shakes his head. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do,” I blurt out and then immediately slap a hand over my mouth, eyes going wide.

He goes still. “Excuse me?”

It takes a few blinks before I can drop my hand and shake my head. “Nothing.” I try to look away, but he moves his head to stay in my line of sight.

“Don’t even think about it, Pinky. Tell me what you meant. Now.”

I’m frozen on the fence, inwardly kicking myself. Why did I have to go and open my mouth?

His jaw tenses. “I’m waiting.”

When I realize he’s not going to let this go, my shoulders slump. “Fine,” I say with a huff. “But if this gets you yanked back to your deathplace, don’t even think about blaming me.”

“Just tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”

“You were right, okay? I am someone to you. Kind of,” I amend.

An indiscernible expression crosses his face. “Explain.”

My throat tightens, my eyes blurring with moisture. If this makes him disappear and forget…

“You died for me,” I blurt out.

For a few long seconds, he says nothing. Just stares.

“I…died for you.”

“Yes. That battle that everyone talks about? The one Soora was involved in right before she left, leaving the rebellion to fend for itself? That’s when you died.”

There’s a long pause.

“How?”

I swallow hard. “The prince was trying to attack Emelle. I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not…but we sort of look alike. He threw power at me instead, and you…you jumped in front of me.” My words get slower and thicker, emotion clogging me up. I hate that this is how he’s finding out. That an argument has led to this. All my guilt for that day is rising right alongside the sadness. “You told me to stay in the Veil, but I didn’t because I wanted to help…” I have to choke off a sob, push out every cracked word. “You jumped in front of me, took the blast that was aimed for me, and you died in my place.”

I wish I could read his mind, because his expression goes completely unreadable, which only makes me panic even more. I’m waiting for him to get pulled—to disappear right in front of my eyes, but he doesn’t.

Finally, he says, “Right before I…reappeared, or whatever the fuck I did at Ghost Island, I thought you were calling something.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Belren.”

He mouths it silently, his brows pulling together as if he’s frustrated that it doesn’t feel familiar. “So we were…” He gestures between us. “You and I were something.”

My chest constricts as I have to admit this part. “No,” I reply. “We weren’t anything. I don’t know why you did it. Why you did it for me. You barely knew me.”

He watches me steadily, unblinking, unmoving, and I’m just waiting for him to start yelling at me. Once it sinks in, he’s going to be angry. I mean, who wouldn’t be? I’m the reason he died. He’s going to hate me, and he’ll probably—

A giant laugh suddenly booms out of him, making me flinch in surprise. The laugh goes on and on, and I’m just left gaping at him with my mouth open like a fish.

This is even worse than him getting yanked. He’s finally lost it. He’s cracked. His ghostly deficiencies have claimed what was left of his mind, and now he’s just going to be known as the laughing ghost of hob island, where he will forever haunt the pristine streets with his inappropriate cackling.

Goodness, I’ve really done it now.

“Alright, it’s okay. I’ll help you through this,” I quickly say. He’s bowing at the waist, hands on his knees, still laughing like a madman, not even stopping to take in air. “Just take a deep breath before you pass out.”

At that, he looks over at me and just starts laughing harder.

Oh, right. Dead. It’s strange how I keep forgetting.

Burying my head in my hands, I take a moment to lament. It seems like the right timing for it, seeing as how I’ve messed things up so colossally. “I’ve ruined your life and now your afterlife. I deserve for you to laugh-haunt me forever,” I say into my palms.

I peek through my hands to get a handle on his mental state, but I’m also already wincing in preparation. But he’s not looking dazed or daft. In fact, he’s looking at me like I’m crazy, which is a bit insulting, to be honest.

“I find it hilarious that you think we weren’t anything,” he says, his laughter abating.

My hands drop and I stare at him in shock. “Are you…are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?”

I sit up straighter, eyeing him warily because I don’t quite believe him. Is he dimmer than he was before? I immediately pop out of the Veil, as if my corporeal senses can take him in better. He definitely looks a little dimmer, but he’s not disappearing.

“The last time I tried to talk to you about the past, I made you get yanked twenty feet away to your deathplace.”

Belren looks down at himself. “I’m still here.”

I frown. “Hmm. Strange.”

He leans into my ear. “Probably because you’ve been a very good cupid, keeping my muck on you all across the islands,” he murmurs, his playful demeanor bouncing back, the low tone of voice making me nearly swallow my own tongue.

When he pulls away, he chuckles at the look on my face, which just makes me scowl and then lift my hands to his chest so I can shove him away.

It takes me a second to realize it worked.

Belren is even so shocked himself that he staggers back a few steps from my push and then stands there gaping at me.

I look down at my hands and then back up to him. “Huh.”

He’s back in front of me in the blink of an eye, lifting his hand to my arm. Tensing up, I watch the descent…

Only for his hand to go right through me.

Annnnd his scowl is back. Just peachy.

“What the fuck?” he grounds out. “Why can’t I touch you back?”

I cross my arms in front of me, feeling a bit defensive, because I don’t want him back in his bad mood again. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because you have a poor attitude,” I say, glad that there aren’t any fae walking by right now.

He shoots his gaze up to mine. “What?”

I cock a brow. “Maybe if you weren’t pouting about it so much and being such a butthead about it, you’d be allowed to touch me again,” I say primly.

He has the nerve to look offended. “I have not been a butthead.”

“You definitely have,” I counter. “Moping around with a frown on your face the whole time. Maybe you need to use your manners and the Veil will reward you.”

Thundercloud eyes narrow on me. “You know what I think, Pinky?” he challenges. “I think you are the one doing it. I think you’re unintentionally blocking me.”

I scoff. “What? That makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. Every time I’ve touched you, it’s been when you least expect it. It’s been when you were…distracted.” His glance drops down my body before coming back up. “But when you knew my touch was coming…you braced yourself. You tensed up, like you’re nervous.”

Have I been doing that? I don’t know, but I certainly don’t want to prove him right.

“Touch me,” he challenges.

I roll my eyes before jumping down from the fence with a flip of my hair. “No, thank you,” I reply breezily as I start to walk away.

He’s in front of me again after just a handful of steps. “Touch me,” he says again.

“Maybe I don’t want to touch you,” I snip.

His eyes grow half angry, half heated. I have to be honest, it’s a very attractive look on him. “Don’t lie, Pinky. It’s not polite.”

Darn it.

“You’re making me want to push you again,” I reply tersely.

He laughs. “If that’s what it takes to get your hands on me again, go right ahead. I like it a little rough.”

“Oh my goodness.” I whirl around to start walking the other way.

Belren continues to laugh behind me. “Oh, come on, Pinky! You know you want to try to touch me!”

“You can just stay right there while I go try to find your unfinished business without you!” I toss back over my shoulder.

I find a shadowed spot between two buildings and start marching back down the road again, barely missing a beat.

Of course, he’s already caught up with me, looking as cheerful as ever. “You’re going to touch me sooner or later, and I’m going to prove my theory was right.”

“Go haunt an outhouse,” I grumble beneath my breath before smiling sweetly at some passing fae.

He chuckles and continues to walk beside me. “Look at that, anger makes your jokes better.”

I swear to the heavens, I am going to touch him just so I can throttle him.

Pointedly ignoring him, I spot several hobs grouped together in front of a row of houses nearest to the square. I head right for them, deciding I’m just going to go up and introduce myself to see if I can get any of them talking. It’ll be easier to ignore him that way.

But I stop short when they start arguing heatedly about whose roof is cleaner.

“My roof is the best on the whole street!” I hear one of them shout.

There’s a bit of an uproar, with several of them jumping in to deny that claim.

“Oh, please. I cleaned mine so well that I’ll have enough power for a week!”

“No, no, no. Everyone can tell that my roof is the cleanest. My shingles are gleaming, Perryl!” one of the hobs retorts, jabbing a finger in the direction of the houses.

Another hearth hob—presumably Perryl—snorts through his nose. “You call that gleaming? I got shinier shits than that!”

Half of them start laughing. The other half start arguing even louder.

“Well, they seem preoccupied,” Belren chirps up.

Changing course, I walk into the town square, where I spot some sort of stall setup near the sparkling fountain. There’s one hearth hob behind the stall who’s selling her things, with an orderly line milling around it. As I get closer, I realize it’s a soap stall, because of course it is.

When I stop in front to look at the wares, the hobs around me give me sidelong looks, gazes lingering on my wings. Luckily, they’re too enamored with the different soaps to be bothered about staring at me for long. And honestly, the soap collection is quite impressive. There are multi-layered solid bars, bottled liquid, and even something called gem soap that sparkles like diamonds in little containers. Very fancy.

Belren props himself next to me. “You think they’re hiding the princess behind the stall?” he jokes before leaning over to look.

Ignoring him, I smile at the stall owner. “Hello there.”

The female just frowns at me before looking me up and down. “You need a good washing.”

I rear back in surprise. “Oh. Umm…”

“Hey, that wasn’t fucking nice,” Belren growls.

Feeling flustered, I press a hand to my hair to make sure it’s still in its smooth bun while my other hand straightens my tunic. Looking around, I notice all the hobs in line are staring at me again, as if they too are assessing my cleanliness. Judging by their expressions, it’s not looking good.

“This is a new shirt, and I had it laundered, and I washed my hair…” I say, trailing off as I frown down at my boots. “My shoes could probably use a polish.”

Everyone in line nods in agreement.

“That hair could do with a rinse.”

“Her nails with a good soaking too.”

“It’s the feathers for me,” another one says, wrinkling his nose. “Those need constant care. How often do you groom them?”

I wring my hands together. “Umm…”

Another one starts to open his mouth, but the stall owner cuts across him. “What’s that dirty thing hanging off your back?”

I glance over my shoulder at my strap before I gently swing it around for her to see. “Oh, this? It’s just my quiver holding my arrows.” When I notice a piece of dried mud that somehow ended up on the string of my bow, I quickly pick it off. “It’s not that bad.”

“You’re right,” she agrees. “It’s worse.”

Well, that’s not polite at all.

She gestures an impatient hand at me. “Give it here.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

The female leans her arms on the counter of the wooden stall and glares at me. “Did you know we can feel when something needs cleaning?”

“Well, no, I didn’t, but—”

“I’ll test my new batch of soaps and wash it for you,” she tells me. “It’ll be shining by the time I’m done with it.”

“I think it’s time to leave now, Pinky,” Belren cautions.

I swing my bow and arrows behind my back again as I shake my head at her. “That’s nice of you to offer, but no thank you. I’m going to go now.”

I start to back up, but then someone from the line rips the quiver right off my back, making me stumble, shoving it toward the stall owner before I can do anything. “I want to see you use that new lavender gem soap!”

Lurching forward, I try to snatch it back, and I manage to snag hold of the strap, but when I tug, it jerks from both of our holds. My bow and arrows go flying, and then I watch in slow motion as my quiver careens end over top, dumping all of the mucky contents of Belren’s deathplace out, right there in the middle of the square. It lands with an audible splat.

“Is that…dirt?”

There is a collective horrified gasp.

I swear, every hob in a fifty-foot radius makes that noise, all of them stunned with shock at seeing dirt in a messy pile on their polished stone street.

Then, the split second of stillness erupts. The herd of fae pounce on it, sweepers and rags and soap bottles appearing in their hands like cowboys whipping out pistols for a shoot-out, and I get thrown back from the crowd.

I go flying backward, but just when I’m about to land hard on my butt, a pair of sturdy arms catch me from behind.

Gasping, I look up at Belren towering over me, his hands firmly under my armpits, holding me steady. To everyone else who can’t see him, my positioning probably looks very strange.

“Told you you’d want to touch me,” he says cockily before his expression morphs into a scowl as he turns his attention at the cloying crowd in front of us. “Now which one of these assholes pushed you? Because I swear to the gods, I really will haunt them in an outhouse for laying their hands on you. I’ll scare the shit out of them for the rest of their days if I have to.”

As far as ghost promises go, that’s quite romantic.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t—” I cut myself off, eyes widening in horror. “Oh my gods, your muck!”

I clumsily straighten up and then shove myself through the crowd of fighting hearth hobs.

When I manage to elbow my way through to the center, I’m too late. The hobs have finished, and they disperse, looking highly pleased with themselves now that they’ve defeated the evil dirt.

But my stomach bottoms out as I stare down in horror at my scattered arrows, my bow, and my shining quiver. My shining, empty quiver, right alongside the spot on the ground that’s now completely wiped clean of any speck of dirt from Belren’s deathplace.

For the first time in my afterlife, I say something that is really, really not polite.

“Well…fuck.”