Sheer Cupidity: A Standalone Cupidity Romance (Heart Hassle Book 5)
Sheer Cupidity: Chapter 27

LEX

I have a headache. And a chest…ache? The soles of my feet are oddly sore too, which perplexes me, because I usually wear the most comfortable flats I can find. Wearing sensible shoes is important.

I ebb in this perplexed state, eyes closed, flowing in my half-awake thoughts. My bodily pains, along with a dragging tiredness, make me not want to come back to full consciousness. Yet when strange bursts of memories come springing up, there’s no stopping it.

I frown as I try to open my eyes and figure out what happened, but nausea slams into me like a freight train. Jolting, my body lurches to the side, and I barely manage to pivot far enough as my stomach heaves up its contents. It’s very unladylike. There are some wet burping noises that accompany the spewing, and I just… This is not ideal. Not ideal at all. There’s even spit.

Goodness.

I feel a hand come down to hold back my ponytail, and my cheeks flame with embarrassment that someone is observing this. There’s nothing I can do about it though until my stomach decides to stop its rude awakening.

A hand with dark curly finger hair shoves in front of my face, holding out a handkerchief. I quickly take it and wipe my lips and then discreetly wipe my tongue as well, because yuck. There is a film layer on it that I do not want to think about.

Looking over, I see the male from Miur’s house crouching in front of me. “Don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal,” he tells me before he leaps back up and runs off. In the distance, I hear him calling, “Tiom! The cupid’s awake!”

I groan from my pounding headache, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the dizziness to subside. I take slow, steadying breaths, but as my world stops tipping, my memories swirl just as sickeningly, and I remember everything all at once.

Miur’s house. The fae attacking me with power, and me blacking out right after. They took me…

I try to jerk upright in my panic, but that move makes me yank against the grip that’s still on my hair that I hadn’t even noticed. I hiss out a breath, stopping immediately. “Ouch!”

The hand immediately releases me. “Fuck, sorry. You alright?”

Flinching, I turn to find Belren sitting at my side on the grassy ground with me, the other fae nowhere in sight. For a second, all I can do is stare at him, my eyes running over him in the darkness of the moonlight. Mussed white hair, silvery skin, curling horns, everything seems to be in place, right down to his outfit.

“You’re here,” I say, breathing out shaky relief.

“As if I’d be anywhere else but by your side, Pinky. Death couldn’t keep me away,” he says with a lopsided grin.

I melt a little. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and my world seems to settle back on its axis as I let out a shaky breath. I was mad at him and utterly disappointed, but all of that has seemed to dissolve into thin air. I’m just glad nothing bad happened and that he’s still here.

“What… How…” I shake my head, trying to clear it enough to come up with words that are more comprehensible, but I’m just too relieved.

In answer, Belren holds up his hand. His other hand…which I’m currently clutching onto for dear life. I didn’t even notice.

I stare down at the way my fingers are gripping him so hard that my knuckles look strained. “What’s…what’s going on there?” I ask. I don’t let go, though.

Belren’s silvery eyes flick up to my face, a proud smile pulling at the corners of his eyes. “You grabbed me. Even unconscious, you grabbed me and pulled me through the portal with you.”

A portal? I blink. Gods, that could’ve gone badly. “I…I did?”

He nods, turning serious. “I’m so fucking sorry about what I said before, Lex.”

“It’s okay. I know you are, and I am too.”

Belren shakes his head as if he doesn’t want me to let him off the hook that easily. “I’ve been trying to take the easy way out, to ignore everything that’s going on. It feels like if I ignore it, the inevitable won’t happen,” he says with a dejected sigh, making a kernel of guilt for pushing him roll around in my stomach. “But I should tell you something.”

I eye him curiously. “What?”

Belren shifts closer, thumb rubbing over the back of my hand that sends chills down my arms. “If I knew then what I know now, if I knew that leaping in front of you that day meant that I would die—that I would end up right here as a ghost, with you—then I would do it all over again. Gladly.”

Tears fill my eyes, and I try to snag every single word out of his mouth and hold it inside of me.

I clear my throat, trying to get a hold of myself before I start blubbering like a baby. He already saw me vomit. I can only stand so much involuntary erupting. “Well. You should at least make a pros and cons list beforehand, if the situation arises. It’s the responsible thing to do.”

I’m rewarded with a beaming smile. It catches my breath and makes him seem almost alive. As if I could reach forward and feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart.

“I don’t need a list, Pinky. I’d rather haunt you in death than not be with you in life.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just rock my entire world. “Even before you grabbed hold of me, I knew you were mine. That just confirmed it.”

My heart fills up with something until it feels like bursting, but my mouth won’t work to say anything in return.

Belren gently lifts a hand and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I hope you’re good with me haunting you, Pinky, because I’m going to do it for as long as I can.”

“I’m good with it,” I blurt out so fast that it makes him chuckle.

“Good girl.”

I’m probably staring at him with huge puppy dog eyes, but I don’t care. My entire body is buzzing with something I’ve felt thousands of times—felt for other people and learned to nurture it for them. But I never, not in a million years, ever thought I’d feel it for myself. It wasn’t meant for me, I was sure of that. Instead, it was simply my job to give it.

Yet here I am…fallen head over bow in love with a ghost.

It scares me to no end, to be honest. It feels irresponsible, even, like I’m not going to be as good of a cupid giving out love stories if I’m too caught up in my own. But maybe…maybe it’s okay to let myself feel something for him.

“You doing alright over there?” Belren teases, and I realize I’ve been quiet for way too long. “Do you need your seven-foot think-radius? Because I have to tell you, you’re going to have to let go of my hand in order to do that, and you don’t seem to want to.”

My cheeks flame and I look down at my fingers that are still wrapped around his like a constrictor snake. “Sorry,” I mumble with a bit of embarrassment as I slowly release him. My fingers ache in protest at the movement, smarting at how firmly and how long I was holding him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Pinky. If I had it my way, I’d never stop holding your hand.”

Those butterflies in my stomach must fly all the way up to my throat, because I have to clear it in order to speak. “That would be very problematic when I need to shoot a Love Arrow,” I point out.

He chuckles.

“Are you still puking?”

I startle at the fae’s voice as two of the hearth hobs come ambling over, their silhouettes just shadows and their feet crunching in the grass. Belren made me forget all about the two of them, but now that they’re walking up toward me, my anger comes surging up. I scramble to my feet, paying for the too-quick movement when my headache pounds with a vengeance. “You,” I accuse. “You attacked me.”

The brown-headed one scratches the back of his head with a guilty look on his face, but the redhead just lifts a shoulder. “Had to. Orders.”

“Want me to try to shove them again?” Belren asks behind me, making my lips twitch.

I turn in a circle, my gaze bounces around at the empty landscape as I try to take stock of where we are. It’s so dark out that it’s hard to see anything at all, but I don’t see any buildings around.

“Yeah, and like I said before, things get messy when you get hit with that much of our cleaning power. It’s perfectly normal to puke up your guts,” Tiom tells me.

I swing my eyes back to him with a glare. “I didn’t puke my guts up. It was just a small retch,” I argue, feeling embarrassed all over again. In fact…yep. There’s my vomit in a little puddle right beside me in the grass.

Yuck.

I can’t believe Belren and I just had a beautiful, touching moment next to that.

“I can clean it up!”

I jump as the other male hurries closer, pulling something that looks like a handheld mop from his cloak pocket with a glint in his eye.

Of course they carry mini-mops on their person.

I leap in front of him, barring his way. “Don’t you dare go near my sick,” I warn him. I can only take so much. Watching someone else get power from cleaning my vomit is a hard line.

“Yeah, Irrit. Don’t touch the cupid’s puke,” Tiom gloats.

“You either,” I scold, making the redhead frown.

They both grumble, but Irrit thankfully puts away his cleaning utensil, stowing it back in his brown cloak.

“Do you want me to take that?” Tiom asks, nodding toward the wadded up handkerchief in my hand. I forgot I was holding it, but I bunch it up harder in my hand.

“It’s—no. No, I don’t.” I don’t have any pockets—typical—so I shove it into my waistband instead.

The disappointment wafting off him just makes this whole thing even more uncomfortable.

Sighing, I take a moment to look around, though I’m still careful to not stray away. I don’t trust these fae not to start cleaning behind my back. Belren must have the same thought, because I hear him say, “Eyes up, you bastard. Look at her face, not at her vomit.”

Who said chivalry is dead? I mean, he is, but still.

“Where are we?” I ask, because something about this place seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. I’ve been to so many islands in this realm it’s hard to say, especially when it’s so dark out.

“This is where the princess stays,” Irrit tells me.

Uh oh.

I share a panicked look with Belren. “I have to go back. I can’t be here.”

“It’s done,” Tiom says, somewhat smugly. “We’ve already alerted the princess of your presence.”

I’m ready to pop myself into the Veil and get the heck out of here, but when I ruffle my wings, I suddenly realize that a particular strap around my shoulders is missing, and I whirl around. “Where’s my bow and quiver?” I demand.

Tiom waves his hands. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ve got your cupid weapons here. We’ll return them to you soon as you leave. D’you know, I was sure all your arrows fell out back at Miur’s house, but it was full as a flask when you got here. That a cupid thing? Your weapons refill?”

They took them?

My eyebrows slam together. “They’re tools not weapons, and of course they refill, we’re not amateurs,” I snap.

I drag a hand down my shoulder where the comforting weight of the strap usually rests. I don’t like not having it there. I…I don’t even remember a time when I didn’t have them with me. This feels weird. Like I’m naked, and I can’t help but start to fidget.

Belren points. “They stashed them over there, under that pile of branches.”

Smiling, I give Tiom a victorious smile and then saunter over to where Belren directed. Tiom rushes over with me and tries to go for the bush, but I shoulder past him. I find my poor quiver buried under scratchy, overgrown boughs, and I yank it out, quickly strapping it around me and positioning it just right.

“That’s better,” I say with a sigh, looking over my shoulder at my feathered arrows. But then I frown.

Belren doesn’t even need me to say anything, because he points to Tiom.

The fae is backing up sheepishly, but I hold my hand out impatiently. He grumbles, and then his fingers dig beneath his cloak, and he pulls out the arrow he just tried to steal.

“Thank you,” I say curtly before putting it back with a breath of contentment. The Veil would replace it, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Irrit glances at Tiom and whispers rather loudly. “Is she allowed to do that?”

“Shut up, Irrit,” he says, glaring at me, cheeks going as red as his hair. “We can’t take you to the princess armed.”

“Great,” I chirp. “Then I guess I can’t see her right now. I’ll just have to come back another time.” I turn toward Belren so we can get out of here, but I stop in my tracks when I see him.

His body has gone rigid, back ramrod straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I just told you!” Tiom cries with exasperation. “We can’t take you like this!”

I ignore him, watching Belren struggle through the pull that wants to take him away.

“How can I help? What do you want me to do?”

“It’s like she’s not even listening,” Tiom complains behind me.

“Nothing,” Belren gasps, hands going down to his abdomen. “It’s not… Something is different.”

“Different how?”

Instead of answering me, he reaches for my hand. I immediately give it, and his eyes close in relief when our fingers intertwine. He grips me firmly, like I’m the tether keeping him from floating away. “That’s better. Feels like I’m being pulled in two different directions otherwise,” he says hoarsely. “Don’t let go.”

I squeeze his hand. “I won’t.”

“Well, you’d better listen to the princess,” Tiom snaps, clearly still thinking I’m talking to him. “Because here she comes.”

Brows drawn together, I spin on my heel, watching as the dark air seems to ripple in front of us. It’s like sheer curtains being pulled back, changing the landscape, until it morphs completely. What was nothing but an empty grass field is now a threadbare forest.

“What…”

“The princess just lifted the glamour she put over this spot,” Tiom says, an edge of proud awe in his voice.

The hair on my arms rises at the charge of magic, so thick I can almost taste it. I squint at the sparse trees before my gaze zeroes in on a figure walking toward us, flanked by two guards.

Irrit and Tiom step around me and bow low. “Princess Soora.”

Gaping, I watch as the shadowy figure stops in front of me, the pale moonlight illuminating her lavender skin. Her ears are pointed, eyes large, purple hair swept up in a fancy coif that matches her regal yet simple high-necked gown.

When I look back up at her face, I catch the tail end of a smile fading away, her large eyes narrowing on me. “You’re not Emelle.”

I cast a look at Tiom smugly so that he gets the full effect of an “I told you so” look. I’m quite good at them.

Red-faced and sputtering, he and Irrit straighten up. “Apologies, Princess. She’s a cupid, and we thought…” His words trail off. “Are you sure this isn’t her?”

Soora casts the males a gentle smile. “I’m sure, and it’s alright. Thank you for bringing her. She is indeed a cupid.”

A pair of relieved sighs come out of the males. “We’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yes, thank you,” Soora says.

“She has weapons we couldn’t relieve her of!” Irrit calls, tattling on me.

I twist my head around. “They’re tools!” Honestly, it’s like no one understands the nuances of cupidity. When we hit you with Love, it’s supposed to hurt a bit. That’s how you know it’s real.

Irrit and Tiom both disappear from sight, as they probably step outside the bounds of the princess’s glamour.

My nerves jump to life at being left alone with the princess and her two guards. Belren is still stiff and shaking beside me, but his firm hold gives me comfort as the princess stares me down. My heart is beating so hard I feel it in my temples, and all I can think is, what if this triggers him? What if this really is his unfinished business?

Yet I can’t risk going into the Veil, not now when he clearly needs me touching him. If holding my hand helps to ground him in some way, then I can’t go incorporeal and risk losing him.

Soora continues to stare at me, expression giving nothing away.

Nothing about this current situation is ideal, but I can handle it. I have to.

“Oh!” Irrit calls, his disembodied voice startling me. “And she mentioned something about a murder spree! Might want to watch out for that!”

Of course. Of course he would say that right now, the jerk.

Belren would probably think it’s hilarious if he weren’t in his current state.

Soora’s amethyst eyes narrow on me, and a bald-headed hearth hob guard steps forward. “Let’s go,” he says gruffly, tight black ringlets wobbling on his chin.

He grips my arm roughly and then starts pulling me into the creepy, meager forest. To be honest, I probably had the manhandling coming.

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