Chapter 12: Signs of Cupidity: Chapter 12

When I open my eyes, it takes several moments for my sight to adjust and take in my surroundings. I’m in a small room and lying on a low pallet made of soft brush and grasses and covered in fur pelts. The walls are plain and unadorned, but there’s a small window covered with vines that lets in lines of sunlight that streak across the floor.

So I’m in one of the guys’ bedrooms. Obviously not Ronak’s. But I wonder if it’s Evert or Sylred’s?

I sit up and stretch as I look around. My muscles are still sore, including my strained wings, but I ruffle my feathers a bit to work out the kinks.

A couple of my red feathers shed off and pepper the bed. I tentatively stand up, careful to keep a hand on the wall so I don’t fall. I have no idea how long I slept. My legs are wobbly, but I manage to walk to the door and I pull it open.

I peek out, but there’s no one in the main room. Maybe I can walk right out the front door and keep going without any of them noticing? Ha. Fat chance of that. I have no doubt that they’d find me in minutes, considering how I can barely walk and that this island is pretty small. I might as well stick around until I’m stronger.

I walk out quietly and take my time looking around the main room. I trace my fingers along the different-styled chairs that sit around the table. I wonder which of the men each one belongs to. The styles are so different. There’s one with carvings, one with inlaid rocks, and one that looks like it was made out of a solid tree trunk. I’m guessing that one, based on its massive size, is Ronak’s.

The front door opens and I turn around to see Sylred walk in with an armful of chopped wood. He stops when he sees me. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Was that your room?”

He shakes his head. “Evert’s.” He walks toward the fireplace to throw down the stack of wood beside it.

“You’re still not wearing a shirt,” I blurt out.

He raises a blonde brow. “You have my only one.”

I look down. “Oh. Right. I’m sorry about that…” I frown. “Do you want it back?”

A look of dismay crosses his face. “You don’t…You’re…” he clears his throat. “No. You keep it.”

I try to stifle my smile. Poor guy thinks I was just going to strip down right here and now. I look down at my borrowed pants and then his. Mine are made of soft linen, while his are made of leathers. “But you had extra pants?”

He shrugs. “I wear the leathers over the linen ones.”

“Oh,” I say looking at his leather pants again. “Doesn’t that make things real sweaty and sticky?” I ask. “That’s gotta be uncomfortable, huh? Not that I really . I’ve never worn leather before. But I’ve watched enough bikers and BDSM members to know that things can get muggy down south real quick. Oh, and latex. Like one of those full bodysuits. I went to a party once where everyone wore one. Things got real squeaky.”

Sylred just blinks at me for a moment. “…I don’t know how to reply to that.”

I wave him off. “No need to reply. I’m used to talking to myself. Anyway, I’ll give you your pants back soon. I can try and fix my dress, maybe. I don’t want to be responsible for sticky balls.”

Poor guy blushes. It’s really cute the way I can see the tops of his tan cheeks turn darker. His blonde beard covers most of it, but it’s there.

We’re still standing in uncomfortable silence when a noise growls from the pit of my stomach, startling me. I clench a hand across my belly and look up at him in surprise. “What the hell? Am I dying?”

He blinks at me a few times. “I expect you’re hungry.”

A slow, wide smile spreads across my lips. “Hungry. I’m hungry?”

He nods cagily, like I’m a crazy person, but my smile only gets brighter.

“I can actually eat food!” I say breathlessly.

I can’t contain my excitement. I can eat. All those foods and drinks that I’ve fantasized over and looked at longingly over the years rushes into my mind, and my mouth salivates. I suddenly can’t wait a second longer.

“Can I eat now? Please?” I ask desperately.

Because even though they’re holding me prisoner and think I’m a demon, I have manners. I’m a lady like that.

“Whatever you have, I don’t care. I’ll eat literally anything edible.”

“Of course. Sit,” he orders, motioning toward the table.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I choose the chair with the carvings, but my wings get in the way. They’re too big for me to sit. I try the other two chairs next, but even the largest of the three doesn’t quite accommodate my wings.

I decide to give up and sit on the floor instead, settling on top of the fur rug. Sylred doesn’t comment on my movements or my choice of seat, but after digging through some wooden boxes and drawers, he plunks down a wooden plate piled high with food and a full cup in front of me.

There are fruits and vegetables I’ve never seen before, plus a large slab of meat. It smells delicious, and my stomach lets out another growling sound, making me laugh.

I dig into the food immediately, and moan out loud when I take my first bite of meat. The taste is smoky and spicy, and it practically melts in my mouth. I devour it within minutes. I eat it all the way to the bone, and then move on to the vegetables. They’re green and long, with yellow dots on the side. They taste like earth, but I love them because, hello, food!

I move on to the fruit last, and I’m so surprised when I bite into it and taste the flood of sweet nectar, that I can’t help but moan and laugh again.

Gods, food is delicious. I want to eat more. I want to eat everything. Gimme all the foods. From now on, it’s food everywhere, all the time, every kind. I want to constantly stuff my face. Screw relationships, I’ll make food my new love. I’ve clearly been misplacing all my fantasies on love and sex. I should’ve just focused my pining on food this whole time.

When everything edible is gone, I barely stop myself from licking the plate clean. Barely. I pick up the wooden cup and tip it back, draining every last drop of water. It tastes so pure and cool that it makes my whole mouth crave more. I sigh in pleasure because I feel so full and good. My taste buds are going berserk at all the new flavors.

“Second, can I have some more wa—” I stop mid-sentence when I look up.

All three guys are standing by the door, staring at me. I didn’t hear any of them come in, but I was so engrossed in my meal that I probably wouldn’t have heard a stampede run through the cabin. What I also didn’t notice, but which is now blatantly obvious, is the thick scent of arousal in the air, and I know I’m new to this and all, but I’m pretty sure it’s coming from all three of them.

“Oh. Hey,” I say. I wipe my mouth with my hands, because they continue to stare. Maybe I have a piece of food stuck to my chin or something? When they still don’t say anything, I snap, “What?”

Evert shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says with a growing smirk, bringing his dimples into the room. “You just…you really enjoyed your meal. You were very…vocal about it.”

Sylred coughs.

“Oh, well I’ve never eaten before,” my mouth says before I can stop it. Ronak narrows his eyes at me.

Oops.

“I mean…I’ve never eaten something so yummy before,” I say quickly, trying to amend my statement to sound less suspicious. “Everything tasted….well, everything . It was amazing. All the flavors…I never knew there could be so many.” I’m just going to shut up now.

“I just wonder if she makes those noises during other activities,” Evert quips.

Sylred laughs, even as his cheeks turn red again. Not-First just glowers. I narrow my eyes on them all at the implication. “None of you will be lucky enough to find out. You’re holding me prisoner, remember? I don’t have sex with my jailors.”

Ronak crosses his arms. “Someone want to tell me what she’s still doing inside?”

Sylred loses his patience and huffs. “She was hurt and starving, Ronak.”

“You’re an idiot. She’s supposed to be our prisoner, not our guest.”

Sylred shrugs, like being the recipient of Ronak’s anger doesn’t faze him at all. It’s pretty sexy to see him going toe-to-toe with Not-First. “Even so. We aren’t barbaric. We don’t treat females that way.”

Ronak looks so angry that I’m afraid he might pull back one of those massive fists and deck Sylred right there. His black eyes flick to me and I flinch at the hatred I see boiling in them. “Covey meeting. Now.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, standing up.

“It means get out,” Not-First snaps at me.

Gods what an asshole. I bite my tongue to keep from telling him off, because it’s no use, anyway. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him. I shoot him a glare, pretending not to be scared of him one bit, even though I definitely afraid of him. I mean, he could probably snap me in half like a twig.

I stomp towards the door so I can give a nice dramatic exit. Well, I try to stomp. I end up tripping over my feet and nearly bowl right into Sylred. He catches me and sets me back on my feet.

“See? You’re the nice one,” I tell him, patting him on his chest. His bare chest. I might rub it a little, too. What? I can’t help it. He actually has to pry my hand off of him to get me to stop. Whoops.

When I’m steady again, I walk out the front door. I try to slam it shut behind me, but since it’s only made of branches, it doesn’t give the right effect, and I hear some chuckling for my peevish effort.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“I heard that,” Evert says from behind the door.

“Good!” I snap. I hear him laugh again as I stalk away.

“Stay in the garden,” Not-First hollers. “If I have to chase you, it won’t end well for you.”

“Maybe I’ll just fly away!”

“Just fucking try it!” Not-First barks back.

“She won’t,” Sylred says. “She can barely stand. She’s not strong enough to fly or run anywhere.”

I hate that he’s right. I walk to the back of the cabin so that they see me pass by through the windows. I have absolutely no intention of really staying in the garden, though. A secret covey meeting? You can bet your dinner plate that I’ll be eavesdropping.

When I’m in the garden, I creep back along the house from the other side. I’m good at spying. I’ve been doing it for fifty years. I keep my back to the wall of the house as I slink forward, only stopping when I make it to the front, right under the window. I crouch down to listen.

“—and that can’t happen,” Ronak says.

“One of us was always here to keep an eye on her. I understand your concerns, but you’re getting worked up about nothing,” Sylred replies.

“Nothing?” Ronak retorts. “You think it’s a coincidence that she’s here right now? She was sent by someone to sabotage us, and we have no idea what she is or what she’s capable of.”

“I’m not so sure she really is here to sabotage us, though,” Sylred says. “All the others that have come here were clearly sent by the high fae. They came actively trying to kill us. She hasn’t done anything hostile.”

“Then she’s trying to trick us. Get us to lower our defenses.”

“The timing suspicious,” Sylred concedes with a sigh.

“Exactly,” Ronak agrees. “She won’t admit what she is, even as she keeps denying me when I call her a demon. Plus, she just happens to fall from the sky onto our island—passing through an barrier, mind you—right before our the royal culling trials begin? No, the timing is fishy. I don’t believe in coincidences. She’s either a distraction or a spy. Or both. And you heard her. She’s seen us before—watched us. She even rated us. She to spying.”

“If she was sent here by the high fae, then what was with the barrier?” Sylred asks.

I don’t hear the mumbled answer.

“—to distract us, right when it’s imperative that we are focused,” Ronak says. “We’ve been banished here for five years, and now the culling is weeks away. We need our minds on the goal, which is to return home. We can’t do that if we’re distracted. And we don’t know if she can negatively affect our covey link, either. It could sabotage everything we are, everything we want. We can’t risk it. We need to watch her very carefully. So keep your dicks in your pants and your minds on our goal so that we can get off this gods-forsaken island, or I’ll tie her up where none of you can find her and leave her for the birds.”

I see red. And not in the hell-fire-demon red kind of way, because I am definitely a demon. But in the I’m-so-pissed-I-can’t-see-other-colors way. But beneath my anger is also a pit of churning sadness.

Gods, it’s like I just can’t catch a break. Just when I think they’re starting to lighten up around me, Ronak comes back and casts me in the shadows again.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Sylred asks. “Then we’d be treating her this way for nothing.”

“It’s my duty to protect our covey. If it’s between hurting her feelings or saving our lives, the choice is easy. Everyone needs to reign it in. We only have a few more weeks to get through. Is the little demon worth risking our future over?”

“Then it’s agreed. We watch her and we take her down if we need to. No distractions, no falling for her tricks or her charms. Now go tie her back up.”

I quickly leave my spying spot and run to the back of the cabin and into the garden. I might as well try to stash some food if I’m going to be tied up again. Who knows if Not-First will feed me again? Now that I’ve had a taste of food, I don’t want to miss any meals.

I pluck off the first fruit I see. It’s growing on some kind of bush, and the fruit is light purple and about the size and shape of an eye. I stuff a handful into my pants pocket and then turn and grab at another plant, where some orange fruit grows and stuff that in as well.

I turn around to see what else I can get my hands on when Sylred rounds the corner and spots me. I see him look down at my dirty hands, and then his blue eyes travel to my bulky pockets. Just when I think he’s about to make me empty them, he jerks his head and says, “Come on.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

He narrows his eyes at me and stares, so I narrow my eyes and stare right back. I can play this narrow-eye challenge game all day, buddy. Oops, I blinked. Dammit.

I briefly consider taking off in the other direction, just to piss him off. Hmm. Nah. I’ve only run once, but I was not a fan.

Okay, so maybe I can just stubbornly stay where I’m standing? Make him physically have to force me back to the tree?

As fun as that seems since he’s shirtless, I don’t want to crush my precious fruit that I have stockpiled in my pockets. Priorities, you know? Also, he is the nice one, and I don’t want to push my luck. I’d rather he keep being nice to me.

I also still want to get them to trust me, and the only way to do that is to show them that I’m not the bad guy here. Sighing, I go to him. “I could’ve won that eye stare, just so you know.”

He smiles and shakes his head at me as he leads me to my tree and motions for me to sit down. My butt is going to be sore sitting on the hard ground, so I pout a little.

“Can’t I get something to sit on? Pretty please?” I bat my eyelashes at him.

At first I think he’s going to call me out on my blatant manipulation, but he just sighs and heads back toward the cabin to get something. Huh. Who knew the eyelash trick actually works?

When he comes back out, he folds a fur pelt and sets it on the ground for me. I sit down on it and smile sweetly. “You can be in first place now.”

“Well, since you still haven’t told us what first place means, I guess I can’t get too excited.”

“Oh, it’s a good thing. Trust me.”

“Maybe I could, if you’d tell me who you are.”

“Nice try.”

He shrugs as he starts to tie the handmade ropes around me. I watch him as he checks that the bindings are secure before standing up again. “Are you here to spy on us?”

“Nope. I swear on my very pretty, very un-demonic wings that I am not a spy.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Without saying anything more, he turns and leaves. When I’m left alone, I test my bindings. They’re secure, but they aren’t nearly as tight as when Not-First tied me up. I have a fair amount of movement allowed, so I can easily reach the fruit that’s stuffed in my pockets.

With more room to move around, I reach my arm around to the tree bark and start trying to break off another piece. Might as well. It’s not like I have anything else to do. I’m not sure where my old piece went since Evert confiscated it. Which is a downer, because I worked hard on that piece, dammit. I really liked holding it. Being able to hold and touch things really rocks my world.

I doze off in between sitting against the tree…and sitting against the tree. What can I say? It’s boring.

When I come to, it’s dark out. Someone has left me a pile of nuts and some more fruit, along with a waterskin. I look over at the cabin and see the soft glow of the fireplace coming through the windows and smoke drifting up from the chimney. I can also smell meat cooking, and my stomach growls. I guess prisoners don’t get freshly cooked meat.

I scratch at my arm absently. I don’t like to go too long without scratching that spot. It’s a tricky, conniving little itch and I won’t let it win again.

I can hear the guys inside, probably eating around the table. I’m sure they’re enjoying that nice meat and having a good time, warm by the fire. I really wish I were inside with them. I’m dying to talk to someone. It’s a serious addiction.

Besides, it’s kind of freaky out here alone at night. What if a bear comes around and decides to eat me? I’m sure I look tasty. Or maybe there’s some crazy, giant insect in this realm that can paralyze me with its stinger and then drag me away to its nest.

I jump when I hear something rustling behind me. I stare into the dark forest and see a squirrel running away. I let out a relieved sigh. Maybe it’s best not to let my imagination run away with me. But my imagination and running commentary are the only things I’ve had to entertain myself with, so it’s my first go-to.

I sing some songs from the human realm to pass the time. Those humans have some catchy tunes. And yeah, okay, most of the songs I sing are from nineties boy bands. Don’t judge. It was super cool at the time.

I consume all of the food and water in a few short minutes. Being held captive against a tree is hungry work. Luckily, before I dozed off, I’d managed to not only get a new piece of bark off the tree, but I also loosened my ties some more. A lot more. Like, I’m technically free, but I’m still sitting here because I have plans for tonight, and I don’t want to get caught.

I wait until I see the firelight die down and the cabin goes quiet. I watch the stars through my little opening in the trees and I listen to the sounds of the forest. It’s peaceful here, and the air is sweet, with a calm breeze that tickles the hair around my face.

When I’m satisfied that I’ve waited long enough that everyone is asleep, I carefully extract myself from the ropes and stand up, stretching my arms and wings with a satisfying sigh. I have to be careful with my shoulder because it’s still tender, but I feel much better already. Maybe I heal faster than normal.

I walk to the cabin and peek in through the window. The main room is dark and empty. All the guys are in their rooms. Their covey meeting revealed a lot, and Ronak’s words circle in my mind over and over again.

Sabotage. Spy. Demon.

know that I’m not any of those things, but that doesn’t help me. As much as I hate them distrusting me, I don’t want to ruin anything for them. It isn’t their fault that I fell on this island. I don’t know anything about their covey link or the culling they mentioned, but I don’t want to mess up their lives.

What I want is what I’ve longed to have for so many years: connection. I want to connect with other people and be wanted. I want to feel and smell and see and hear and taste . But I’m not going to get what I want here. That much is blindingly clear.

Which is why I had an epiphany when I was loosening my bindings. I simply need to get off this island. I need to leave and find someplace I can live with some people who don’t look at me as an enemy.

Who knows, maybe there’s another hot covey out there that will actually earn my kiss-rankings and become completely devoted to me.

A girl can dream.

I’m going to find my own true love if it kills me. And I’m going to have sex. A lot of hot, steamy sex. Because orgasms. Orgasms seem super great. I want in on that.

The problem is, I can’t leave this island until I can properly fly. Which brings me to my plan now. I’ll just wait every night until they’re all asleep, and then I’ll work my ass off until flying is as simple as breathing.

I walk away from the cabin and head to a slight clearing in the forest where some moonlight shows through, careful to keep the cabin still in view. Just in case one of the guys wakes up, I’ll use the shadows to my advantage and hurry back to my tree.

In the canopy of the trees, I’m surrounded by the secret noises of night. Animals running, insects chirping, leaves rustling. The forest smelled nice, too.

I always wondered what was so special about smells. People seemed to talk about them a lot. They came up with all sorts of ways to describe smells, and honestly, I thought they were exaggerating, but they were right. There are so many different smells that cause so many different reactions. Some smells, like the cooked meat, is enough to make my mouth water. Others, like the scent of the grass, has a calming effect. And some, like the way Sylred smelled when I’d been pressed up against his chest—no. Nope. Not going there. Stop thinking about how he smelled. No more sniffing the captors, Emelle.

Emelle.

At least out of this entire situation, I finally have a name. That’s something.

I spread my wings a few more times to get the feel of them. Who knew they’d be so heavy? I ruffle my red feathers and look down at my feet when I step on a sharp stick. Too bad my cupid attire didn’t come with shoes.

My legs clench together instinctively and I realize that this physical body also requires me to take care of some private business. I quickly dart behind a bush to pee. Ahhh. That’s better. Who knew peeing could bring such relief?

Now that that’s taken care of, I can practice flying. Because I master my new physical wings and get out of here as soon as possible. There is no other option. I can’t stay here. If anything goes wrong for the guys, they’ll blame me, and then Ronak will come after me.

“Okay, Emelle,” I say quietly to myself. “You can do this.”

I smooth my red feathers out and look side to side. My wingspan is longer than my body, maybe about six feet. It was so easy to fly when I was invisible. The instinct is there, I just need to build up the muscles to match it.

With a running start, I leap into the air, forcing my wings out. I flap a few times and then touch back down. I do this over and over and over again. Back and forth in my small clearing. Run, leap, flap, land, repeat. My muscles start to burn and a layer of sweat breaks out over my forehead and my back, but I keep going.

I practice like this until I can’t lift my wings anymore. I let them drag on the ground behind me when I walk back to my tree. I’m sure it’s terrible wing etiquette, but I’m just that exhausted.

Sweat is soaked through my shirt and my light pink hair is plastered to my neck. I nearly collapse against the tree, and by the time I slip back into the bindings and down the entire contents of the waterskin, the sky has turned a soft shade of gray.

When the last of the night fades away to concede to morning, I drift away.

I dream of the stars.

I dream of being one; of dancing alone in the sky, of glittering beside the moon. Being a star is not so different from being a cupid. People wish and the stars try to grant, but even as the stars sacrifice themselves and fall, so many wishes are wasted, just as so much love is lost.