The bell over the café door had barely stopped ringing when I flipped the sign to Closed. Adrian's cologne—a low, smoky sweetness—still lingered in the air like a dare.
Elior hadn't moved from his spot by the counter. Arms folded. Jaw tight. The faint green shimmer in his eyes pulsed once, quick as a heartbeat.
"Planning to glare at the door all night?" I asked, tossing a rag into the sink.
No answer.
"Elior," I tried again, softer.
His gaze snapped to me. "You shouldn't trust him."
"You barely know him."
"I know enough." His voice carried that strange undercurrent again, like music played too low to hear.
"You keep saying that," I said, crossing my arms to mirror him. "But you never explain."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Because if I tell you everything, you'll look at me the way you looked at him."
I blinked. "What does that even—"
A streak of glitter zipped across the room, cutting me off.
"Pippin," Elior warned.
The tiny sprite popped into view on the espresso machine, wings buzzing like a furious hummingbird. "Don't yell at me. I'm only the messenger."
"Deliver it and leave," Elior said flatly.
Pippin planted his fists on his hips. "Headquarters wants an update."
My eyebrows shot up. "Headquarters?"
Pippin smirked. "Oh, he hasn't told you? Tsk, tsk."
"Pippin," Elior snapped, but the sprite only twirled mid-air, scattering sparks that smelled faintly of rose petals.
"Your golden-eyed mystery man?" Pippin sing-songed. "Not just some mortal with a good tailor. He's—"
A flick of Elior's hand sent a ripple of green light across the room. Pop. Pippin vanished, leaving behind a single silver feather.
I stared at the feather until it melted into the counter like water. "What. Was. That."
Elior dragged a hand through his hair. "You weren't supposed to see that yet."
"Too late."
Silence stretched. Outside, the streetlights hummed to life.
Finally he said, "I'm not just some guy who likes hanging out at your café. I'm…different."
"Different how?"
His eyes met mine, and the green deepened into something almost luminous. "I'm a Cupid. Literally. Arrows, assignments, divine meddling—the whole thing. I guide hearts to where they belong."
I laughed, a sharp, nervous sound. "You're joking."
He didn't blink.
"You expect me to believe you're some kind of…angel of love?"
"Not an angel," he said quietly. "A purpose."
I swallowed. "And Adrian?"
His jaw tightened. "He used to be one of us."
The room tilted slightly. "Used to be?"
"Adrian Vale was a Cupid—one of the best. But he broke the rules. Started choosing, manipulating hearts for himself. They stripped most of his power, but he's clever. Dangerous."
I thought of the golden flash in Adrian's eyes, the way he always arrived at the perfect moment. My pulse skittered.
"So why is he here?"
"That," Elior said, "is what worries me."
The back door rattled—one sharp knock that made both of us jump.
I grabbed the broom like a weapon. "We're closed!"
A pause. Then Adrian's voice, smooth as ever. "Lila? Sorry—I left my scarf."
I froze. I hadn't seen a scarf.
Elior stepped forward, blocking my path. "Don't."
"You can't keep me from—"
Another knock, softer. Almost coaxing. "Just a moment of your time," Adrian said. "Please."
Something in the word please slid under my skin—warm, inviting. My hand twitched toward the latch.
Elior caught my wrist, gentle but firm. "He's already trying."
"Trying what?"
"To bend your will."
I yanked my hand free. "You don't own me, Elior."
"I know." His voice cracked, barely audible. "That's what terrifies me."
The doorknob jiggled. "Lila," Adrian murmured through the wood, "don't be afraid."
For a split second, golden light leaked around the frame, faint as moonlight. Then it vanished.
Elior pressed a palm to the door, whispering something like an ancient melody. The faint gold retreated like a tide.
Silence.
Then Adrian's low laugh, muffled but unmistakable. "Interesting," he said, footsteps fading into the night.
I sank onto a stool. "So he's…what? An ex-Cupid with a grudge?"
"Not exactly." Elior's eyes dimmed back to human green. "He believes love should be controlled. That free will only causes pain."
"And you?"
"I believe love should be guided, never chained." He hesitated, stepping closer. "It's why I came to Riverbend. To protect you."
The words hung between us, heavy and electric.
"Protect me from what?" I whispered.
"From him. From the choice he wants to take away."
I met his gaze, breath shallow. "Why me?"
Elior's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Because you're important, Lila. More than you know. And because…" He faltered, searching my face. "Because I—"
A sudden, mischievous pop! Silver sparks rained down as Pippin reappeared, grinning.
"Well," the sprite said, "that was dramatic."
Elior groaned. "Not now, Pippin."
"Oh, but it is now." Pippin twirled mid-air, scattering glitter. "Headquarters says the game's changed. Adrian isn't just sniffing around. He's been assigned to prove that love is a weapon."
My stomach dropped. "A weapon?"
Pippin nodded gravely for once. "And guess whose heart is the prize."
Elior's hand brushed mine, warm and steady. "I won't let him," he said.
Outside, the night wind carried a faint scent of roses and smoke.