Crimes of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 3)
Crimes of Cupidity: Chapter 47

Prince Elphar’s blue skin is unmarred, his clothes pristine, his handsome face pleased. Flanking him is his right-hand advisor, Chaucel, and on the other side is the guard, Gammon. The two of them oversaw my beating when I was captured. My eyes automatically flick down to Gammon’s arm, to the place where his hand should be. But there’s only a stump from where Okot cut it off. Sick satisfaction washes over me at the sight.

Like my mind conjured him up, suddenly Okot is there, and all of that satisfaction whooshes out of me.

The four of them stand twenty feet away from me, their eyes watching me, and me alone. The prince has a playing card in his hand, and he flicks it between his graceful fingers as he toys with it, like he doesn’t have a care in the world—like he isn’t standing amidst hundreds of dead bodies, nearly walking right on top of them.

His soldiers wait, their faces expressionless, their bodies relaxed, even as they hold back the rebels. Just like when I saw them on the genfin island, I’m struck with how very odd they look. When I send my cupid senses out, I confirm Lex’s declaration. I feel nothing from any of the soldiers. No love, no longing, no worry over loved ones, no heartbreak, no desire…nothing.

“There she is,” Prince Elphar says, and my eyes snap back to focus on him. “The famous cupid,” he spits the last word like it’s a curse.

I don’t dare blink or look away from him, not even when I hear Ronak struggling again to get away.

“You have a choice to make,” the prince tells me.

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, my hands itching to grab my bow. If I could just get it…

“Your pathetic rebels are beaten. The fight is over.” He raises his hands and turns around, gloating over his victory, and I follow his gaze, seeing the rest of the rebels held at sword point, their lives a breath away from being ended. “I can see you don’t want to give up,” Prince Elphar says, facing me once again. “I admire that fight, I do. So here’s your choice,” he says, taking another predatory step closer to me. “You can try to notch that arrow that you’re gripping in your hand. You can try to shoot me faster than Chaucel here can throw up a shield. It would be a gamble, but oh, what a gamble! Imagine if you won,” he exclaims, looking positively giddy at the thought. “But be warned, if you miss, I will give the order and kill every single other rebel on this island. Including your genfin mates. They will all die. Because of you.”

I swallow hard, trying not to show the fear on my expression, even though I can feel the blood draining from my face. “And the other choice?” I ask, glad when my voice sounds steady.

“Choice number two is much less entertaining,” he explains. “You simply surrender. We take you, and we let the rest of the rebels live. The choice is yours.”

“No!”

My eyes dart to Ronak, where he strains against the giant. Evert and Sylred are trying to fight off their captors too, but it’s no use. They’re already wrapped in iron chains.

“Don’t you dare,” Ronak growls at me, his eyes locked on me.

I turn back to the prince, only to get caught on Okot’s eyes. Just like the rest of the prince’s soldiers, there’s just…nothing there. No expression whatsoever. The emptiness of it makes me shudder.

“What are you doing? I’m your brother!” I hear a fae shouting, and I look over to replace a rebel struggling under the hold of a soldier. It’s clear by their similar appearance that they’re related. “You’ve fought against the prince all your bloody life! How could you side with him?”

The soldier doesn’t even look at him. Doesn’t react whatsoever. Just continues to hold the blade at his brother’s throat.

My eyes move past them to the genfin from before. The one who blamed me for the attack on his island—the one who threatened me. He stares stonily back at me, and I can see the challenge in his eyes, like he’s already expecting me not to surrender to the prince to spare their lives.

“Well?” Prince Elphar says, regaining my attention. “What will it be? Shall I give the order to end everyone so that you can try your little arrow trick? Will you be that selfish to try? Or are you going to use what little intelligence you have and come with me now?”

The arrow in my hand suddenly feels heavier than any weight in all the worlds, and I sag under the heavy burden of choice. It would be so gratifying to send it flying at the prince’s face, but I can’t. This is a game I can’t win, and we both know it.

The prince’s eyes dance with amusement when he sees the defeat in my expression.

I don’t look back at my guys. I can’t. Not even when they start screaming my name. Not even when Chaucel opens a portal. Not even as the prince reaches forward and grabs hold of my arm.

I just let the arrow drop, and I fall into the portal.