Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Boy with Black Wings
Shane’s POV
Love was dying.
Shane nudged a moving box with the toe of his shoe. It slid a few inches across the wooden floor before stopping with a dull, hollow thud. He sighed and peeled back the flaps. Inside were old journals—the worn notebooks crammed with crooked handwriting and colorful tabs that had lost their stickiness. He picked up the top one, smiling in a fond nostalgia. It was from secondary school. Every page was filled with names of his classmates and their personalities with their quirks beside each of them. He'd scribbled who he believed their perfect match would be, along with pages of observations explaining why.
Some pairings had been obvious. A nymph and a druid—both being creatures who belonged to the forest. A satyr and a minotaur—each stubborn enough to keep the other grounded. Brains falling in love with bronze. It was a tale as old as time itself.
Back then, he'd been convinced love was something that just needed the right push. He ran a thumb along the frayed edge of the journal. Now that felt like a lifetime ago. The last time he'd played matchmaker had been more than six years ago, when he was twelve.
Everywhere he looked, love seemed to be unraveling when the dating apps became mainstream in 2013—OkCupid and the rest. One after another, they promised to find soulmates with nothing more than an algorithm and a swipe. By the time they had taken off, his parents' work had become little more than a novelty.
A handful of creatures still came to their doorstep searching for the “one”. Most, however, weren't looking for love at all. They were looking for someone to fill the cracks in themselves. Shane had always believed love was for everyone. He also believed therapy came first…
No soulmate could fix years of trauma, loneliness, or self-loathing, no matter how perfect the match looked on paper. He never sugarcoated that truth. Whenever someone asked for guidance, he told them what they needed to hear—not what they wanted to hear.
His parents stopped inviting him into consultations after that. Apparently, opening a session with, "Respectfully, I think you need a therapist before a partner," was terrible for business. The moment Shane walked into the room, clients would ask for their money back and head for the hills.
Shane twisted the ring around his finger. It was supposed to contain his power—or at least, that was what his parents had told him his entire life. These days, he wasn't convinced it contained much of anything. Not in a world where one-night stands were glorified, situationships everywhere, and everyone seemed determined to sample a piece of everyone else before settling down—if they settled down at all.
People didn't come to his parents searching for love anymore. They came searching for a checklist: Mr. Right. Six feet tall. Wealthy. Funny. Good in bed. Or whatever the hell happened to be trending that week.
His parents had always been far more patient with those requests than Shane ever could. Love had never worked that way. It wasn't about finding someone flawless. It was about finding someone willing to grow alongside you—to stumble, to sacrifice, to compromise, and choose each other over again and again.
At least... He hoped that was what love was; he'd never actually experienced it himself. Especially not in a dating pool that seemed to demand six feet, six figures, and a body carved from marble.
He was born a little soft. He was relatively good-looking, “normal”-looking, but he didn’t carry a six-pack or eight-pack or the ten-pack some other creatures had. Just…Shane.
The ring would stay, not because it held any real power, but because it was the only piece of his old life he could carry into the new one. Packing away from college felt less like a chore and more like the loss of something he had once wished he could be. His mother wanted him to become a therapist so he could still help people. His father wanted him to become an engineer and make money off his smarts. Shane didn’t care much for money or for working with others; his presence alone seemed to scare people off, or they never gave him a second thought. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do. First year would be the basics. After that, he would figure it out.
“Sweetie, it’s time to go.” His mom—bless her—was being overly nice about the whole situation. She just wanted the best for him. What was best for him, in his opinion, was building a goddamn time machine and shutting down every dating app before OkCupid ever made its debut.
His mother’s cupid wings fluttered with excitement for him, raining down a shimmer of pink pixie dust that vanished before it touched the carpet. “Where’s your glee?” she asked.
“Dead.”
“Oh, come on. Today’s a big day for you. I bet you’re just nervous.”
“Yeah,” he lied; he wasn’t nervous at all. He’d be happy to get the day over with so he could start classes and bury himself in a mountain of books without having to look up for a while.
They trudged down the hall together. His one suitcase was packed with video game consoles and other things he probably wouldn’t even use, but he’d brought them all anyway, just in case. He’d also slipped in a couple of magical items. The school had a strict no-magic policy—any magical tools students needed were supposed to be provided by the school’s budget—but the ones he’d packed held so little power he hoped they’d slip under the radar.
One was a pen that wrote invisibly, with a light on the other end that let someone else read what he’d written. He wasn’t even sure if that counted as magic anymore or if it was just clever mechanics. Science had made such big strides in recent years that the line between the two kept getting harder to see.
The other was a Magic 8-Ball that answered questions with riddles or grand metaphors, like a fortune cookie from a Chinese restaurant, forcing him to figure out the truth himself. Over the years it had become Shane’s best friend, even if he still wanted to throw it against the wall after one too many answers that made no sense.
The other thing he took with him, well, let’s just say they wouldn’t be very accepting if they found out about it.
“Hey bud,” his dad called from the living room, getting up from his couch watching hockey on the TV. He wished he could do something like that. Cupids were far too weak for that type of sport, and he always wondered why his dad loved it so much even if he couldn’t participate in it. Cupids had niche sports involving flight racing for their swiftness or chess for their natural high intelligence. His father said, “Off to college—wow. Can’t believe today’s the day. Where did the time go? Felt like just yesterday you were sprouting wings.”
“Dad, I was eight.”
“I know, son, but once you get to my age, you’ll understand.”
Shane tried not to roll his eyes. Instead, he hugged him goodbye while his dad just slapped him on the back, pulled away, and gripped his shoulder. He didn’t give some big goodbye speech like Shane thought he would, saying, “You're going to do great, son.”
Shane didn't know what to say, so he forced a smile until he let go.
“Ready?” his mom called.
“Yeah, yeah. Coming.” He turned on his heel toward the door, a little squeak coming from his bag. He wheeled his suitcase out the door to meet their chariot. The pegasi were already tied to it, neighing and greeting them. His mother tossed them both an apple as they danced on their hooves, excited to catch it. They were white, pristine, immaculate in color, their wings upright, glistening in the morning rays. They always took good care of their livestock.
Shane bowed his head to one of them, softly saying, “hey buddy.” These two had been his best companions on the worst of days, flying in the skies together. “I won't be gone forever,” Shane started, as if they could understand him. “I’ll miss you.” The horse gave a softer neigh, putting his forehead against his.
“C'mon honey, you're going to be late,” his mother called. Couldn't she see that this moment meant a lot to him? Whatever. He threw his bags into the chariot.
As soon as Shane had climbed on the chariot, his mother gave the signal and Pegasi flew upwards with great speed. Shane leaned back against the worn leather and enjoyed the rushing wind that flowed past the edges of the chariot. It smelled of pine and distant rain. Below, familiar sights grew smaller and more distant. At first, there was a field of gardens, dotted with cottages, then, those too had become little toy buildings with tiny smoke curling from their roofs, disappearing into the clouds. Beyond them, the green hills melted into the sky.
Meep, his pet—a small sheep the size of a kitten that fit in the palm of his hand—scrambled out of the bag and hopped onto his lap. The little creature devoured stress, either regurgitating it as unbridled unease into the air or absorbing it for nourishment.
“How did you get out?” Shane whispered.
“Meep!” his mother yelled over the rush of wind. “You know you can’t take him with you.”
“He’s my best friend.”
The only friend, really, besides the Pegasi. And those he definitely couldn’t bring them. He could already picture them escaping the stable nearby, flying straight to campus in search of him. Both of them had tracked him down at high school once. His parents had spent an entire afternoon wrangling them back home after that incident.
“I know he is, sweetie, but you have to make new friends.”
“He takes my stress away. This is the most stressful thing that’s ever happened to me, and you want to take away the one thing keeping me sane?”
“You’re going to get banned and lose your tuition. We’ve put a lot on the line for you to go to this school. We’re not going to let you squander it.”
“I won’t. I promise. You also want me to pass, don’t you? I can’t do that without him. You know that.”
She gave him a teary-eyed frown; she had to have known that. Meep let out a small, flustered baa and stretched across Shane’s palm, stubby hooves dangling over the edges with its head bowed.
“I know, buddy. It’ll be alright.”
“How are you even going to get him through the front gate?” his mother pressed. “Didn’t you read the flyer? No magical items.”
“Look—he’s all white. No magic. See? I’m not stressed right now, so he isn’t eating anything. Zero magic signature.”
“Well no wonder he looks so depressed. You starved him. Jesus, Shane. How long?”
“Just a few days. If it means I get to bring him, it’s worth it.”
“You better keep him hidden,” she said.
Shane felt his wings give an involuntary gleeful flutter. His mother noticed and shook her head, eyes flicking toward the Pegasus. “You’re still my little cupid.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” His fluttering stopped cold.
“Oh, nothing. I just thought you’d gotten rid of him when you were a teenager.”
“Got rid of him? He’s not some stuffed animal. Mom, take that back.”
She let out a short laugh that quickly turned melancholy. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I… assumed the worst. You’ve been so sad lately—”
“Mom. Stop. Meep didn’t die! You really thought that?”
“I might’ve suspected it,” she admitted. “You were just so sad, and usually he ate your stress.” She released the reins for a moment and cupped his cheeks. “Honey, I didn’t want to bring it up.”
Shane pulled back, head down, and settled Meep more securely in his lap. The little sheep sat there looking defeated.
What his mother didn’t know was that Meep had been eating his stress—too much of it. The creature started putting on weight, and then Shane grew stressed about that, terrified of dying and leaving Shane all alone. So Shane had put him on a diet. Shane had been slowly dying inside since then.
After several hours, they arrived at the new college: Amoris Academy. Shane had done extensive research on the place. The campus had four distinct districts with a massive courtyard in the center. The dormitories sat behind each of the four corners as large apartment complexes. Beside them were food halls offering any and all food imaginable—pricey, of course, but that came with the territory of such a prestigious school.
Their pegasi stopped at the front gate. Shane tucked Meep into his backpack, zipping it just enough to leave a small air hole.
“Now, don’t jump out this time.”
Baa.
He was not happy about it one bit.
“Please,” Shane begged. That sometimes worked.
“This is a horrible idea,” his mother said beside him, as if he didn’t already know that.
“We discussed this. He’s coming.”
“Well, good luck, honey. You’re going to do great. Give me a hug.”
Shane did. While she was hugging him, she tried to slip Meep out of the bag. He quickly pulled back and grabbed it. Meep gave a squeak. “Shit.” He opened the bag, the zipper making a loud sound. Thankfully, Meep was fine.
She backed off. “This is still a terrible idea.”
“Well, this college is a stupid idea too. My life’s been ripped from me, and I’m forced to do this. Everything is a terrible idea. Yet here I am anyway.”
She shook her head. Shane wanted to give her one last hug goodbye, but he really didn’t trust her. “See you for the holidays,” he said, climbing down from the chariot with his bags.
“Love you!”
“Love you too, Mom,” he said sweetly with a wave. Even if he didn’t want to hug her again, that was the least he could do. She flicked the reins and flew off.
The front gate looked menacing with huge golden bars that seemed more like the gates to heaven than the entrance to a college campus. He digressed, breathing out deeply through his nose, trying to slow his heart rate enough that it would stop buzzing under his skin. The doors opened wide.
“Name?”
“Shane Hollander.”
The man handed him a campus pass on a lanyard. Shane opened his mouth to say something, then clammed up when he heard the man’s voice. “Don’t lose it.”
He just nodded and headed through the front gates. He passed the magic detector, which looked and felt like walking through a force field. Everything apparently passed with flying colors, because nobody said anything.
He headed to his dorm to drop off his belongings and see who he would be bunked with. He hoped it was someone nice, at least. That was the most he could ever hope for.
He walked toward the Polaris dorms, hoping he was in the right place. It looked like what he had seen online, but all the apartment-style dorms were brick, so it was hard to tell them apart. He opened the door to his room number, hoping for the best—only to be immediately greeted by a dude.
“A cupid. Nice. Such a fancy school. Surprise your parents could afford it.”
“Yeah,” Shane mumbled, shrugging. The guy was so fucking big, with large incisors protruding from his top row of teeth and yellow cat eyes. “Werewolf.” He glanced away, already a little keyed from his tone. “We heal people’s hearts instead of eating them.”
The man looked over at him. The glare sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh, damn, bro—kick me in the kneecaps next time, why don’t you? We haven’t eaten a single creature’s heart in centuries. Surely they taught you that in junior high. If not, you’re never going to make it here.”
Shane scoffed. “Yeah, anything “without a voice box”. That’s what you guys say. You still go after the Griffins, Pegasus, and Dragons that roam the land.”
“The magical ones taste better,” he said nonchalantly with a shrug. Shane’s blood boiled. “Don’t tell me I got roomed next to a vegan. If so, I’m getting a slip to change rooms pronto.”
“No,” Shane answered, feisty and irritated. He could handle a werewolf. Better than getting stuck next to a manipulative leprechaun or—God—a succubus who brought a new person back to the dorm every night. His heart slammed against his ribs at the thought. “No, I eat meat.” A werewolf wasn’t ideal, but far better than the alternative.
“Good, newbie.” He ran his hand through Shane’s hair, petting it like he was some dog or his new pet. Shane smacked his arm away, eyes widening at the claws that could kill him in an instant. Despite that, Shane didn’t back down.
The man shoved the arm away and took a step back, putting his hand up to his chest in surrender. “Fuck, I was just greeting you. Pissy little cupid. You’re adorable, though. So tell me—”
Shane interrupted the thought. “Let me guess, you want to know your soulmate or whatever.”
The man might have been pouting a little; Shane couldn’t tell. He understood they had different dialects and ways of doing things. He had never actually been around a werewolf before. In his town, there were mostly fae creatures—fairies, water nymphs, and cupids like himself. He had never come across anyone sinister or with ill intent. This school prided itself on forcing camaraderie, which had been a big selling point for his parents allowing him to go here.
The werewolf gave him doe eyes, and Shane couldn’t resist. He also knew the guy would bug him to death about it every day if he didn’t give him something. He scanned him with his ring. It turned bright pink, then promptly faded back to the dull red shade it always carried. The magic within it was merely a sputter compared to when he was a kid.
“So what did it say?” The dude was practically bouncing out of his skin. Shane always hated this part—telling people the truth. His parents had lied a lot in his youth, but Shane didn’t see the point in doing that.
“That you’re straight.”
“What about the person? Who are they?”
“You haven’t met them yet.”
The buzzing underneath the werewolf’s skin burst. “That’s it?” he cried.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you expected.”
“You’re a cupid. That’s literally your whole shtick…”
“No, we help people find love. Do I really have to explain everything to you?” Shane threw his stuff down on the bed, then turned back to him. “Fine,” he huffed, because he definitely was not going to leave him alone about it otherwise. “Everyone has an energy about them. When people interact with each other, their energies either collide, crash, or create. Energies that collide move together in harmony and make good friendships. Energies that crash obviously lead to fighting without compromise and a path of hatred. Energies that create are two souls that just…create. They listen without a disjointed surface. They can speak to each other without words. They move together as one consciousness when those two energies meet.”
“Listen, bro, you’re going to have to dumb that down three notches.”
Damn. He didn’t have to worry about passing if this guy could. “Whoever’s energy you’re supposed to be with, you haven’t found them yet.”
Then his eyes shifted. “Woah, dude, I just had a thought.” ADHD much?
Alright. Who cared about what he was saying, but okay, werewolf man, go on. Shane really held back from rolling his eyes at him.
“You and me and the other guys—and gals, I guess—are going to do great at this year’s hunt.”
“Hunt?”
“Yeah, dude, you haven’t heard of it? Of course not, you’re just a newbie. This will be my third year. We never have any smart people on our team. It’s just a bunch of duds.”
“…What is it?” Shane was skeptical.
“You gotta find these keys to open the chests. You get riddles that lead you to the next one. Everyone gets together on the weekends and tries to solve them throughout the semester.”
“Like a group exercise?” Shane’s face cringed. He already hated the sound of it.
“Yeah!” He said it excitedly, with far too much motion for Shane’s liking. He patted him on the shoulder like someone he’d known for a long time. Shane just stared him down, unsure how to return the touch when he didn’t want it in the first place. “Dude, you’re going to love it.”
Sure, buddy.
He patted his shoulder again. “Anyway, I’m going to try out the new gym on this side of campus. Last year I was part of the Orion side. A lot of us jumped ship to the winning team. If you get good enough grades, you’re allowed to move.”
He seriously got good enough grades to move? How easy was this college? What did they even teach here?
“This is Polaris' side, right?”
“Nah, man, this is Sirius distinct.”
Shane stayed silent, inhaling deeply through his nose. How could he fuck up this badly that he arrived at the wrong place. This had to be the right place, hadn’t it?
The man laughed hysterically. “Hold your face so I can take a picture of it.”
“Oh fuck off.”
“You got it! Glad to have you, lover boy.” He waved goodbye and shut the door behind him. Shane sighed in relief—until it opened again.
“Name’s Hayden, by the way.”
“Uh, Shane. Yeah.” Fuck, he was being so stupid, his confidence slipping.
Hayden smiled, his canines on full display, saying, “You want to come with?”
“No, I’m good. I'm going to unpack.”
“Suit yourself.” He shut the door again with a click. Shane didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until the shadow underneath the door walked away.
Meep jumped out of his jacket, scaring him half to death for not being in the bag where he left him. He was always the calm before the storm, then tried to help him through it. Shane picked him up, the stress magically gone. His heart slowed. He set Meep on his stomach as he stretched out on his new twin-size bed, which was half the size of the one he had at home. The little white puffball of fur turned light grey from the stress Shane had. He stomped around in a small circle, then found a comfortable spot to settle. “Yeah, buddy. I need a nap, too.”
But he also knew there was far too much to do for him to go to sleep now. He got up, Meep making a little disgruntled baa before curling up in a blanket from his bag, specifically catered for him. Ironically, it was made with other sheep of his kind, but he didn’t seem to care. At first, he thought of leaving him there; he looked so comfortable, but he didn’t want his new roommate finding him and freaking out. He scooped him up, placing him in the inner pocket of his tan jacket. Shane didn’t want to stay in a cramped room all day. He needed to sign up for classes still, whatever it was he was going to pick; he hadn’t even decided that much, and it stressed him out more than anything else. His stomach growled. He had to deal with that, too. There weren’t enough hours in the day.
He wished he had the power of his ancestors to change fate, bend time, move forward through it, or rewrite the paradigm of the past. They had once been the keepers of the future, cradling it in their arms. Now, it had grown its own two legs, walking beyond their jurisdiction, racing full speed ahead while they were left unable to chase after it. No matter how exhausted the cupids became, they could never catch up. They had lost control of fate, and in the process, lost control of themselves and their own magic.
Who controlled fate now? Shane sure as hell didn’t know. All he knew was that the cupids had been losing power for generation after generation until they had become little more than husks. Now, they were glorified secretaries of love.
Struggling to leave his stuff behind—he didn’t know what that werewolf was going to do with it without him guarding it—he knew he had to. The door latched behind him. He moved onto a magical elevator that broke creatures’ falls before hitting the bottom using a dropzone circle spell. Shane thought it was fascinating. Though he had wings to stop his fall, so it didn’t matter much to him.
Around the side of the building, there was a man leaning against it. Black jacket, curly hair, with a chain around his neck, but the pendant was hidden underneath his shirt. Shane wasn’t going to say anything, keep looking ahead, walk right past him without a second thought when he noticed that he was rubbing two crystals together and sniffing them to get high. “I don’t think you’re allowed to do that here…” How did he even get through the front gate with the crystals?
The guy was high, really fucking high, his eyes red around the edges of his corneas. Meep jumped out of his pocket, and the man picked him up, squeezing him gently. His fur turned black as soot with dust mote particles coming off of him. Meep sneezed, releasing all of the man’s negative emotions into the open air. One breath in and Shane almost fell onto the ground, but he stabilized himself with the flap of his wings.
“And you’re not allowed to have pets,” he scoffed, giving a smirky grin. He slid the magic stones together, sniffing the magic off of them.
Shane had experienced it once with people at junior high. It slowed his heart rate, made him sleepy, everything was blurred around the edges and made his mind go still. He didn’t like it much and never did it again. Shane quipped, “How did you even get that through the gate?”
“A magician never tells his secrets.”
His smirk might’ve looked sinister to a passerby, but Shane knew there was something underneath the bravado. Shane didn’t think he was a magician. Actually, he didn’t know what he was. He didn’t have anything that stood out to Shane besides the black wings that hovered behind him, but that could be lots of winged creatures. Harpies, incubi, Valkyries, or even the rare Baobhan Siths that were some kind of fairy mixed with vampire spawn.
“Shane Hollander. Cupid.”
He gave a look over, giving a little eye roll. “Obviously.” He stuck his arm out for a handshake. Shane took it, cold to the touch. “Ilya Rozanov.”
Shane’s ring lit up a bright pink and red with a purple hue, all dancing together inside the stone.
He pulled his hand away to get a better look at it, but as soon as he did, it faded. “Odd,” he muttered.
“It’s okay. All the cupids love me.” Ilya snapped into a wide grin that made Shane uneasy.
“Incubus,” Shane said, the name hissing off of his teeth. That was probably why the ring acted abnormal—a creature with no regard besides being a sex demon, feeding off people’s energy instead of trying to find connection. However, he had never met one before. They stayed far away from his homeland because they were unwelcome there. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get along with this guy.
The man laughed, turning his head up against the bricks, shaking his head back and forth, then he looked back over giving a small nod, but he didn’t outright confirm Shane’s suspicions.
“We will crush them,” Ilya said.
“Who?”
“The other teams. You know the games. The reason I wanted to come here. The person who wins gets…” he trailed off.
“Get what?”
Ilya turned towards him, still leaning with his shoulder on the bricks. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you. You have to do something for me.”
Shane felt his brow furrow. The guy was a dick. Why was he being such an asshole? Shane wanted to turn tail and walk off, but he had to put up with him for a while longer—for the rest of the semester at least—so he held his ground. “Fine.”
“Let me see your ring.”
“What? No. I’m not going to give some sick, twisted bastard who feeds off people’s desire my ring. Are you nuts?”
“A little. But you want to know, yes? What the reward is?” His tongue rolled upwards, voice heightening, “It’s pretty good.”
Shane was still reluctant but handed it to him. An incubus could do anything with it anyway. Shane didn’t want them to be enemies forever. He thought maybe they could look past their differences. That was the whole point of coming here, right?
However, the asshole didn’t even do anything with it, and just put it in his pocket. Shane’s body boiled. He pushed him, and Ilya gave a devious grin. “Look around. Love is a relic. You don’t need a ring anymore.” Ilya pushed him off and walked away, going back to their dorm.
Shane followed after him, cursing at him, “Fuck you, get back here. Fucking asshole. I’ll die without that, you know?”
“No.” He sounded so certain. “You won’t.” He flew up the elevator to the third floor.
Shane followed close behind, enough that he was able to grab his shoulder. “I’ll tell the Dean about you snuffing rocks,” Shane snapped.
“I’ll tell them about your pet,” Ilya countered.
Ilya shrugged Shane off him, still moving to his dorm. Once he found it, he slammed the door in Shane’s face. Every nerve in his being fired. Without the ring, the energy surrounding him started sparking in a collateralism of bombs like trickling water one after another. Shane banged on the door, pacing back and forth, trying his hardest not to use his magic to break the door into pieces. As it started to become uncontrollable, he took Meep out of his jacket and ran his fingers through his wool to calm himself down so he didn’t get expelled on the first day, then put him away.
When he went to bang on it again, Ilya’s roommate stepped out into the hallway. He was a minotaur with two curling grey horns and ears that sloped down on the sides of his skull. He was fuming, smoke coming out of his pierced nostrils. Shane held his ground; he needed that ring back. The minotaur’s voice was deep and growly. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Where’s Ilya?” Shane glared him down and tried to shuffle past him to no avail.
The man twisted, his hooves loud against the tile. Shane heard a “Get out” from the roommate before the man picked him up and tossed him out. His wings scattered wide, trying to catch himself before he hit the wall. There was a loud thud from Ilya hitting the wall. The minotaur said, “Stay out. Come back when you aren’t fucking someone,” then slammed the door behind him.
Shane embraced his opportunity to get his ring back, getting on top of him and grabbing it out of his pocket. Ilya quickly maneuvered, getting it back easily from his palm. “Give it back!” Shane yelled as he watched Ilya fiddle with it on his own fingers. It didn’t do anything. Of course it didn’t; it wasn’t meant for him. It wasn’t even pink or black, just a clear gemstone, as if he didn’t have any energy at all. He groaned and handed it back to Shane.
“Thank you,” Shane said passive-aggressively. When Shane put it back on, it turned back to bright crimson. He scanned him because curiosity got the better of him. His energy was all wrong in a big jumbled mess. He had seen this before in others. “Respectfully, I think you need therapy.”
He scoffed. “You going to therapy me?”
“Maybe,” Shane said reluctantly with a shrug. He didn’t mind helping others, even if he hated him or thought he was an asshole, because Shane killed people with kindness. Or at least tried to. If they took it the wrong way, that was on them.
“You want to fuck me,” he teased lightly.
“No,” he said instantly. Despite that, Shane’s ears burned. “Absolutely not.”
Ilya stood back up with his wings swishing the air surrounding them. Shane flinched as the breeze flew past. He teased more playfully this time, “Oh, so you want me to fuck you.”
“No!” Shane burned hotter, magic steaming off him in waves, because the guy was objectively gorgeous. Of course he was being an incubus. “No,” he repeated, stern. He refused to do anything with someone like him. It went against his code of ethics. How could he just say that so casually as if it wasn’t a big deal?
Shane began to walk off when Ilya started walking beside him. “This your first year, too?”
“Yeah,” Shane mumbled.
“Must come from a good family with such dignified clothes.”
“They’re normal clothes. The ones you should be wearing too!” Shane couldn’t believe this guy. He must come from dead ones, but he kept that thought to himself.
“Yes, yes, parents dead, very boring. It’s okay. Now I get to come to college for free on a scholarship.” Ilya gave him a sideways wink. “Think I’m going to take full advantage of it.”
“Did you just—” read my mind?
“It is an incubus power to get into one’s head. I took you as smart, but perhaps you are not.”
“Stay out of my head, asshole,” Shane huffed, walking faster ahead of him. He didn’t care where he was going anymore; he just wanted to get away from this guy. But… he still felt sorry about his dead parents. Or maybe dead parents. He could’ve been lying for all Shane knew.
“I’m not lying,” Ilya called, trailing up behind him with his hands in his pockets. Fucking, asshole.
Somehow, Shane ended up back at his room. Hayden came back in a shaggy mess, smelling of wet dog after a summer rain.
“Shower’s at the gym, wolfie,” Ilya chirped.
Hayden gave him a sneer, his yellow eyes glaring at his wings like he wanted to punch him. “Fuck you, asshole. I didn’t bring clothes. You have a lot of guts, first year.”
Ilya rolled his eyes, having not a care in the world. Ilya blew Shane a kiss. “Fuck you later.”
Shane’s face was boiling, worse than anything he had ever experienced in his entire life. He shut the door in his face and sat down on the bed, trying to get a hold of himself.
Hayden smiled, his canines sharp. “Making friends with another newbie, huh? What do they say cupids are? Social butterflies? No, that’s not it. Or maybe it is? You got those cute wings, so it fits.” He stumbled around the room, searching for his clothes by the desk. The guy really did stink. “Oh! You signed up for your classes yet?”
“No, about to,” Shane stated.
Hayden put his hand on Shane’s shoulder, and he had never shivered so hard in his life. “Cool. Cool. Let me show you the ropes.”
He gently used his hand to take his arm off him without being rude about it, saying, “Please take a shower first.”
They made it past the courtyard into the front door of the main auditorium. There were career tables set up, helping creatures decide which path would determine their future. Hayden was doing something in sports, something to do with hunting foxes. Shane didn’t understand any of it or why he needed to go to a prestigious college to do that. It was apparently a big thing back in his country. All he did was go on and on about it; Shane couldn’t get him to shut up about it.
Unfocused, he grounded himself by studying all the different tables. What could he do? Where could he go in his life? These questions had tormented him every day of his waking world, and even sometimes in his dreams. Now, he stood at the precipice of deciding which direction to go. Still, he couldn’t decide. The people at each of the tables tried to sway him one way or another, if Hayden could stop talking for more than a few minutes for them to give their spiel. Granted, he did like it some, so he didn’t have to rudely walk away from them or pretend to pay attention when he wasn’t. However, he knew way, way too much about fox hunting. They called it "fox" hunting, but that wasn’t what it was at all. Apparently, it was a kit from one of the werewolf packs. They were younger and more agile compared to the adults, and they made it into a sport of chasing them down. "Fox" chasing instead of "kit" chasing seemed more politically correct. Of course, if Hayden had called it kit chasing at first, Shane would’ve thought he was nuts. Well, he thought he still had a few screws loose…
He signed up for a basic math course he’d need no matter what he did, along with a magic symbols and items course. He signed up for winged combat training because he knew he could use it; he wasn’t much of a fighter, and he always wanted to be one. The last one he took was an interspecies etiquette and conflict mediation class. He didn't know everything that entailed, but it sounded easy enough for his first semester.
Shane wanted to get Hayden to stop rambling, so he stopped mid-stride, asking, "You've been here for years. Do you know anything about Ilya?"
He turned, saying, "He just came yesterday. Kind of reminded me of you. Makes sense why you'd get along. Why?"
Shane’s blood boiled at the thought that they could be the same. "The guy’s an incubus. Don't you dare compare me to him again."
Hayden squinted, then his eyes widened. "Dude, incubi have hooved feet. He obviously had tennis shoes on."
At the realization, Shane’s blood boiled. "Fucker lied to me."
Hayden laughed.
Shane continued anyway, "Where can you tell what someone is? There's got to be a sheet or something, right? In the dorm maybe or in the paperwork?"
Hayden scoffed. "You really don't understand confidential information, do you? You have to figure it out yourself. Or better yet—ask him."
Shane hated that Hayden was right.
The night was long. Hayden was snoring this weird, musky growl that filled the air with the smell of rotting bones. The bed was so hard that his wings might as well have been lying on bricks. However, it wasn’t the pain or loudness that kept him awake, though it didn’t help any. He kept wondering about the man with black wings, racking his brain about what he could be. He didn’t have talons or scales or horns or anything else to define himself.
He was tired of the guessing games. He got up out of bed, picked up his buddy, who didn’t even wake up, and moved him under the blanket to keep him safe. As quiet as a mouse, he moved down the carpeted hallway to Ilya’s room. He turned the knob before knocking; he wasn’t sure what was ruder, knocking to wake them both up or stepping inside unannounced. Surprisingly, the door leading inside was unlocked, so he stepped in, hoping Ilya couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t. He hurried inside, heart pounding in his chest like a tornado that wanted to take flight.
Shane poked him in the cheek. “Stop, Ero.”
“Who’s Ero?” Shane whispered.
Ilya's hollow eyes shot open before calming. “Oh, it’s just you,” he yawned, turning over in bed. “Go away.”
“What are you?”
He flipped onto his stomach, his wings disheveled, sticking up and turning in five hundred different directions that needed to be preened. He lifted one wing, like he wanted Shane to join him in bed. Incubus or not, he wasn’t about to do that. Shane shook his head at him, asking again, “What are you?”
He grumbled something under his breath. He reached for the necklace wrapped around his neck, yanking it free. He stuck his arm out, placing the object in his palm. It was a ring. A Cupid's ring.
“Maybe you can get more use out of it than I ever did,” he mumbled. “Go.”
Shane backed up, hitting Cliff’s bed behind him. He gave a quick glance behind him, saying, “Sorry,” before scampering off to his room.
Once back, he couldn't believe what he was looking at. He put it on, just to make sure. It turned bright red as soon as he slid it onto his pinky finger. Definitely a Cupid's ring.
He stared at the ring until the red glow blurred. His whole life he believed love was dying. He never stopped to wonder what happened to the creatures who were supposed to protect it. Maybe love wasn’t the only thing becoming obsolete. Maybe cupids were too.