Bonds of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 2)
Bonds of Cupidity: Chapter 17

“I’m so nervous I’m gonna pee my pants.”

Okot strides next to me, my arm looped through his. He eyes my dress up and down. “You’re not wearing pants,” he points out.

“Fine, my ball gown, then. I’m gonna pee in my ball gown, Okot.”

“That would be a shame, as it’s a very nice ball gown,” he says, looking at me appreciatively.

“It is, isn’t it?” I reply, looking down at the gossamer material.

It’s pale blue, and even though I should look like a ridiculous swirl of cotton candy, the dress against my skin and hair somehow looks elegant.

Okot hums in approval. “You look stunning, my beloved.”

I smile over at him. His usual floppy red mohawk is slicked back, giving off a polished yet still kickass vibe. His nose ring helps with that, too. As this is a royal event, he’s wearing his full armor and cloak, which doesn’t look at all comfortable but is sexy as hell. I don’t know what it is about chestplates. They just do it for me.

“You look pretty scrumptious yourself, bull boy.”

Like hundreds of other noble fae, we’re making our way up the hill under the night sky. There are torches lit along the path to guide the way. As if we’d somehow miss the freaking castle up ahead.

Once we get through the main gates, I see that the party has spilled out from the main hall and into the courtyard. It seems that the little temporary castle can’t fit everyone.

Still, the courtyard isn’t exactly the kid’s table. There are fountains spewing fairy wine, ice sculptures, musicians, acrobats, and food everywhere. Okot leads me past the courtyard and into the main hall where the rest of the nobles are.

As soon as we’re inside the opulent space of crystal, flowering vines, and shining marble, I grimace. “It looked more fun outside.”

Okot glances around at the noble fae, all dressed to the nines, mingling politely and dancing like they all have sticks up their butts. Seriously, how do their backs even stay up that straight?

I should totally start an orgy right now. At least it would make me feel better.

The grand hall is set up with a dining area, a dance floor, and a platform with entertainment. Music fills the air, and if I weren’t so on edge, I might even enjoy listening to it.

I try my best to look calm and collected as we pass through the archway toward the dining area, but my head is swiveling in all directions. “I don’t see the guys.”

“They’ll be here. The royals have not yet arrived, either.”

That doesn’t surprise me. Prince Elphar likes to make an entrance. As if on cue, an announcer calls for a halt in the music. Everyone stops moving and talking as King Beluar, Prince Elphar, and Princess Soora walk down from the grand staircase and head to the royal table.

They take their places on the raised dais, and the king wastes no time calling for everyone to find a table and sit. Okot guides me to a table in the middle of the room, where we have a good view of the royals but not too close that they’ll pay us any attention.

Princess Soora plays her part as usual, always the graceful and composed fae to sit alongside her pig of a husband. When her husband isn’t looking, her eyes dart to me and she gives a nearly indiscernible nod before turning to pay attention to the all-important nobles chosen to dine at their table.

When all the fae inside have found their seats, Prince Elphar stands. “We are here to celebrate the coming conclusion of the culling trials,” he announces to the room. He’s dressed all in his regal opulence, including a golden crown that looks so heavy I’m surprised his neck doesn’t buckle under the weight.

“As is custom, the contestants will now enter to observe the feast.”

Observe the feast? Well I don’t like the sound of that.

With a signal of his hand, a fae comes forward and steps to the side of the raised dais, where a space has been left empty of any tables. With a slap of realization across my face, my eyes widen in recognition of the green-colored high fae who is now working to create a portal.

“Chaucel.”

Okot bends his head closer to me. “What?”

I gulp. “That fae opening the portal. That’s Chaucel.”

Okot follows my gaze. “Yes. He is the prince’s personal assistant.”

“He was there that day. When I…he saw me when the prince’s magic turned me physical. Then later, when I was on the banishment island with the guys, he came there searching for me. I hid from him.”

In a pile of shit, I almost add, but I manage to stop myself. Wouldn’t want to spoil supper.

“You think he will recognize you, even as you are now?”

I look down at my fuchsia-dyed skin. “I don’t know. My skin is pink, my hair is darker, and my wings are hidden. “It’s possible he won’t. He didn’t have that long to look at me. But it’s fair to assume he knows what I look like, since he’s been the one searching, and it’s also fair to assume that he can see through some of my changes.” Maybe I should have asked Duru to dye me blue instead.

Okot reaches under the table to squeeze my hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The thought of being caught does not give me the warm and fuzzies. I look over at Okot, worrying my lip. “I need a sniff.”

With a quirk of his lips, he bends closer to me. I lean my nose into his neck and take a nice, long inhale. The warmth of his smell immediately comforts me. A little contented sigh escapes my lips.

When I lean back again, my eyes slowly open, and Okot rubs the nape of my neck with his thumb. “Better?”

I nod. “Totally.”

I don’t know what it is about this mate smell stuff, but it’s the best anxiety remedy ever.

Chaucel, finished with making the portal, steps back and with a nod from the prince, the portal suddenly expands. A light emits from it, so bright that everyone inside the room exclaims in surprise and covers their eyes, including me.

When the light fades and I’m able to blink enough to regain my spotted eyesight, I see that the portal has disappeared, and in its place is a cage.

A. Fucking. Cage.

Inside are all six contestants, including my guys. They’re wearing the same black armor as they were during the culling, and it’s clear that none of them have been given any water to clean with or had their injuries tended to.

Most of them are still streaked with blood, though none as much as Ronak. Their dirty and beaten appearance is much more noticeable now that they’re only a couple hundred feet away and surrounded by the castle’s showy lavishness.

I don’t even realize I’m on my feet before I feel Okot tugging me back down to my seat. It takes everything in me to stay where I am and not go to them.

I crane my neck to get a better look, but when I do, I realize that all three of them are staring, not at me, but at the royal table. When I follow their gazes, I hone in on one female fae in particular.

Unlike the rest of the pastel-colored high fae at the table, this female has sun-bronzed skin and dark eyes. Her wings are different, too. Instead of butterfly-like wings, hers are covered in fur that matches her hair color and they’re folded up in heavy creases behind her back.

I sit up a little straighter. My wings are totally better than hers.

Still, I can’t deny how beautiful she is. Except there’s an unkind smirk on her face that immediately sets me on edge. I realize that she’s looking right back at my guys now, so that cruel little smirk is directed at them.

Looking back and forth, my brow furrows. “Gods, if it weren’t for those hairy wings sticking out of her back, I’d say she looked—”

“Genfin,” Okot says with a nod. “She’s a genfin.”

I whip my head around to look at him. “What? But she has wings.”

“Yes. Once genfins form their mate-bond, their wings emerge.”

I can’t help but gape. I was not informed of this very important fact. I look back at the fae woman and suddenly, I know who it is that they’re glaring daggers at. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Delsheen. The female they were originally going to mate with.

Except Ronak caught her having sex with the prince before the final ceremony could happen. Caught up in the betrayal of the worst kind, Ronak attacked them, and, well…that’s what led to them being banished in the first place.

She’s the whole reason that they’re here now, in a cage, fighting for their lives in the culling, and now she’s parading herself in front of them while sitting next to the prince.

Yeah, I hate her so hard.

If she has wings, then maybe she ended up mating with a different covey. That probably irks the guys even more. I try to gauge Ronak’s expression. Is that pure hate on his face? Or is there a shade of lust there, too? I can’t help but bristle.

“Delsheen. Why?” I don’t hear him say it, but the words are easy to read on Ronak’s lips.

My eyes ping pong between them. I was wrong before. It’s not just hate or lust that I’m seeing on his face. It’s hurt. That’s what I’m also seeing. Some part of Ronak still cares about her and she’s using it against him in the most humiliating of ways.

To answer him, Delsheen lifts a shoulder in a bored shrug. The prince leans down to say something in her ear, raking his lips over her neck, and Delsheen tips her head back and laughs throatily.

Oh, this bitch. I’m gonna end up in an embarrassing catfight for sure.

As the two of them flaunt this display of familiarity in perfect view of the cage, I know that this move was completely purposeful. Prince Elphar brought her here to throw the guys off their game.

He wants them distracted, but more than that, he wants them to turn on each other again by bringing them face-to-face with Delsheen’s betrayal by flaunting her in their faces. It’s a brilliant move, actually.

“He’s good. I’ll give him that,” I mutter to myself.

I suppose the royals are pleased with the spectacle, because King Beluar calls for the feast to begin. While all the fae in the hall point at and talk about the contestants like circus animals, servants start walking in and piling food on the tables.

Soon, the entire room is filled with mouth-watering smells and the sounds of silverware against dishes, but my appetite is gone. Not one single piece of food or cup of drink is passed to the contestants. Platter after platter of lavish food is set out; more food than any of us could possibly eat, and the contestants are forced to watch this garish display of over-indulgence while they sit behind their bars, dirty, beaten, starving, and thirsty.

I’m pissed.

No, not just pissed. I’m fucking livid. I want to leap onto the prince and bludgeon him to death with my dinner plate.

“This is bullshit.”

Okot’s grim expression matches my own. “Yes. But not here. Not now,” he says quietly but firmly.

He indicates the other fae sitting at our table, and like my glance is some open invitation, the fae male to my left smiles at me. “Is the food not to your liking?” he asks, indicating my empty plate.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” I say flatly.

When he sees me glance away, he follows my gaze to the cage. “Ah, yes,” he says primly. “Ghastly view. I’m sure the sight of the traitors in their present condition would turn many a stomach, but it is tradition. It’s good for them to be forced to observe as outsiders, since they wronged the realm. Best to ignore them, my sweet. They probably won’t live past tomorrow, anyway. I’ve bet a pallet of gold that they’ll all be killed, so let’s hope I’m right! Right now, they’re worthless in the sight of the court.”

I tense, staring at this idiot high fae who for some reason, doesn’t think I’ll stab him in the eye with the bread knife I’m currently clutching in my fist. Maybe it’s the pink hair that’s throwing him an, I’m harmless vibe.

I prop my elbow up on the table, holding up the knife in my grasp. He uneasily eyes the blade that’s now pointing at his face. “What’s your name?” I ask.

His eyes flick from the knife to me. “Quorred.”

“Ever have a knife stabbed into your pupil, Quorred?”

He blinks, his mouth parting in shock. “I beg your pardon?” he sputters.

I feel Okot’s fingers close around my jaw, probably trying to staunch the crazy that’s leaking out. He very deliberately turns my face away from Quorred, while simultaneously peeling my fingers apart to take the knife away.

When my face meets his, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. “As much as I love watching you threaten to stab a man in the eye, now is not the time,” he murmurs into my ear.

“It was just gonna be a little stab.” He gives me a pointed look and I sigh. “Fine.”

He distracts me enough that I miss most of the conversation as it continues on around our table, until I catch the tail end of it, when a female high fae says, “—and no wings, either! Look at them. They’re positively filthy. They probably never bathed during their entire banishment. But then, they’re genfins. I wouldn’t expect much more from their kind anyway,” the female jokes, making the others laugh.

Rage washes over me.

I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand to be a part of whatever this is. I won’t sit by while these fae openly ridicule the occupants of that cage, flaunting their food in front of them like it’s some big joke.

Leaning forward, I grab an entire loaf of untouched bread and toss it onto my plate with a clang. Then I reach across the table and slap a female fae’s hand away when she tries to reach for the meat. She gasps at me all indignant-like, cupping her hand like I just burned her. The look on her face makes me snort.

I snatch the huge hunk of perfectly cooked meat before she or anyone else can get their greedy hands on it. The entire table is now quiet and gawking at my admittedly terrible table manners as I stack the meat on top of the bread.

I give the members of my table a fake smile before standing and snatching up a pitcher of fizzing blue liquid. Before Okot can stop me, I’m on my feet, pitcher in one hand, the plate of bread and meat balanced in the other.

I feel eyes on me as I stride straight for the cage. I don’t give a shit. I’m done.

Noise in the hall dulls with every step I take. By the time I make it to the cage, you could hear a pin drop in this place.

Reaching through the bars, I hand the pitcher over to the contestant to my left, and then pass along the bread and meat to the two others. I don’t dare hand anything to my guys.

The contestants take the offering, staring at me with surprised yet wary eyes. When I chance a look to my right, I see my genfins staring at me like they want to wrap their hands around my throat and strangle me.

Even Sylred. He doesn’t look so nice right about now. Oh, well.

I refuse to stuff my face while they starve. I refuse to take part in this ruthless display of public humiliation.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Evert hisses.

I quirk an eyebrow at him and then turn on my heel. Chin raised, shoulders back, I give the haughtiest fuck-off look imaginable to the rest of the dining room.

“What?” I snap. “They were distracting me with their drool.”

With that, I stride back across the dining room and sit down at my table next to Okot as if nothing is amiss. Hushed voices and pointed looks lock onto me, but I pretend not to care or notice.

Knowing all eyes are still on me, I start serving myself portions of food, sans bread and meat, obviously. Only when I skewer a piece of fruit with my fork and take a bite do the voices go back up to normal levels and movement seems to resume.

Okot leans over to me. “That was a very brash move, my beloved.”

“I know,” I whisper, keeping my eyes on my plate.

I can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Okot lets it drop, not once lecturing me or making me feel like an idiot. I’m immensely grateful. And surprised as hell that I got away with it. I don’t dare look back at the cage.

“Did they all get some to eat?”

Okot looks over at the cage from the corner of his eye. After watching for a few moments, he nods his head. “Yes.”

I breathe out my relief. My heart is still beating way too quickly. “Good.” Knowing that my guys have something in their stomachs, even if it’s not nearly enough, makes me feel a little better.

That good feeling is quickly stripped away from me when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around and come face-to-face with Chaucel staring down at me.

Well, sex on a horse. This reverse cowgirl’s ride is about to get bumpy.

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