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Eros

Ovid once said, “There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled.”

Well, Eros, God of Love and Desire had met the Roman poet back in 16 BC, and that was a bunch of bullshit. Ovid never turned down alcohol, especially during a raucous orgy. Then again, Emperor Augustus did exile him to Tomis, so that might have mellowed down the notorious party animal.

While he could certainly relate to Ovid’s situation, to Eros, alcohol was the only thing that made his banishment bearable. To make matters worse, he was stuck here in the middle of Bumfuck, Alaska as a mortal of all things, until he learned his lesson or died of old age or some other ghastly human affliction.

Or maybe I’ll get lucky and get hit by a bus tomorrow . At least he wouldn’t be so bored.

Fucking Council of Olympians.

It wasn’t like he meant to cause chaos. It was a tiny misunderstanding. A miniscule miscalculation, really. His love-based dating app Winged had been meant to bring people together. The magic he had infused in it lowered inhibitions so mortals could find their true loves more efficiently. Instead of endless chatting that led to nowhere, ghosting, or going on date after date hoping to find that spark with someone, mortals who matched on Winged instantly fell in love.

It was the perfect solution to modern dating woes. After all, didn’t that famous British band once say, “All you need is love.”?

How could he have known things would go sideways so quickly and so badly? That the mortals would be so wrapped up in each other that the whole world would come to a grinding halt? Or that, once he confessed his crimes—voluntarily, he might add—his punishment would be so harsh?

And so here he was, stuck on the Upperworld. According to the council, he would only regain his immortality if he learned his lesson. And that lesson?

To learn to be human.

What the fuck did that mean? In the one year he’d been down here, he hadn’t a clue how to accomplish that. And if he didn’t, he would die a mortal death.

It was going to be a very long fifty or sixty years.

“One more!” he called to the bartender.

“Er, don’t you think you’ve had enough, sir?” the bartender, a gangly young man who didn’t even look old enough to imbibe the beverages he sold, said. “You’ve finished a whole bottle.”

“No, not nearly, I’m afraid.” He pushed his glass toward him. “One. More.”

The youth shrugged, retrieved a new bottle of whiskey from behind the bar, and opened it. He was about to pour when a gruff voice from behind made him freeze.

“Hold it right there, Tom,” the voice said. “Put that damned bottle back.”

Tom gulped. “Er, sure thing, boss.”

Eros glanced behind him. “Hello, Jake. Fancy seeing you around here.”

“I do own the place.” The burly, dark-haired bearded man crossed his arms over his chest. “And didn’t I tell you you’re banned from entering my bar?”

“You did,” Eros drawled. “Unfortunately for you, Moosehead Tavern is the only place around here that serves a decent pour.”

“You’re still banned.”

“Aww, are you still angry about that fight last week? I never even raised a fist.”

“But you were the cause. Ashley and Beverly still aren’t talkin’ to each other.”

“Women, am I right?” He grinned at Jake, who remained stone-faced.

“You knew they were sisters, Eros. Why’d you sleep with them both?”

“Because they were hot and I was bored?” There was nothing else to do around here except drink and fuck. “Besides, they knew what they were getting into when they slept with me.”

“Just get out,” Jake groused. “Before I toss you out on yer ass myself.”

“ Tsk, tsk .” Eros rose from the stool. “I gotta run anyway. Places to go, people to see, you know? But I’ll be back. You’ve banned me, what? Three times this year? In the end, my money spends the same as everyone else’s.” And he was glad he had a large stash tucked away in a human bank that no one in Olympus knew about or else they’d have taken that, too, along with his mortality.

“I’ll see you next week.”

Jake’s gaze tracked him all the way to the exit, as if ensuring Eros did leave. As the door slammed shut behind him, an unusually warm breeze blew by. Thank fuck summer had finally arrived in this part of the world. While he didn’t freeze while flying as his blood naturally regulated his temperature to keep him comfortable, it was not his favorite time of the year. It was much more pleasant to fly over lush greenery and drift along the summer breeze.

Speaking of which…

Crossing the street, he darted toward a line of trees behind the gas station and walked deep into the woods. Once certain no one else was around, he whipped his T-shirt off. With a deep breath, he relaxed his back muscles and unfurled his wings.

Nearly twenty feet across, they were covered in pure white feathers, ranging in size from the smallest downy fluffs close to his spine to long, sharp quills at the tips. A pearlescent sheen covered each one, giving his wings a dazzling appearance when stretched out. A minor goddess once begged him for one feather, and he strung her along for decades without ever giving one up because it amused him.

He shook the wings and spread them wide, flexing them open. At least the council didn’t take this away, nor his ability to retract them into his body, something made possible once he became immortal. Being half-geryon—a race of creatures with human bodies and bird wings—he had been born with those wings. All geryons and other creatures who could not blend in on the Upperworld had to live in Vale Crossing, a secret sanctuary unknown to mortals. It was where he had been born and spent the first few years of his life.

Dark thoughts crawled into his mind, which he immediately dismissed with a flick of his wings, shooting him straight up into the clear blue summer skies of Alaska. If it wasn’t for his ability to fly, he would surely have gone insane, being trapped in the Alaska pack’s territory. He was forbidden to go any farther than the town, and because he was considered a part of the pack and therefore under the Alpha, Cade Andersen’s command, he had no choice but to stay within the boundary that was set.

When Eros first arrived here, he attempted to run away, but he quickly found out the consequences of disobeying the Alpha. He had barely crossed the town border when his entire body had crumpled from crippling pain. And soon after that, he discovered that he physically could not disobey Cade Andersen’s orders. Depending on the severity of his defiance, it caused him anywhere from discomfort to sheer agony. It was another aspect of his punishment that had enraged him.

But, it was all worth it, especially considering what today was.

Soaring over the trees, he navigated toward the center of the pack’s territory, landing just outside the main lodge of the Alaska pack. He retracted his wings, not bothering to put his shirt back on as he headed inside. His guest room was inside on the upper floor, and he made his way there, avoiding the disapproving gazes from the other pack members. He hadn’t given a fuck what they thought since the moment he got here, so why should he now?

After a quick shower, he dressed carefully in a clean button-down shirt, slacks, and loafers. If he had his powers he could have magically dressed himself in seconds; heck, when he was a god, he hadn’t even needed to shower with soap and water. It had been annoying at first, but he found he quite liked the routine, plus what was he saving the time for anyway?

Reaching into the top drawer of his dresser he retrieved a large black box and opened the top, revealing a gold pendant. While it appeared to be like any medallion, this one had been a gift and especially made for him. The gold had been mined from the deepest recesses of Mount Othrys. Etched on the face was Eros’s godly symbol—a wing. Though the medallion had been given to him a long time ago, he had never worn it, as he was waiting for a special occasion. And he supposed there was no other occasion more special than today.

With one last glance in the mirror to make sure everything was in place, Eros trudged outside to the open field near the community center, where chairs had been set up in two sections of several rows, an aisle left between them. Everyone was already seated, and he was the last one to arrive. He headed to the lone empty seat in the front row, right next to the aisle.

“You’re late,” Artemis, former Goddess of the Hunt said. She was seated next to him and to her right was her mate and the bane of Eros’s existence, Alpha Cade Andersen himself. He said nothing, but shot him a disapproving look.

“The ceremony hasn’t started,” he said. “So, I’m just on time.”

“You should have showed up a few minutes early. If you’re arriving just on time, you’re already late.”

“Says who?” he huffed. Artemis had always been such a stickler for rules, and even her current mortal state hadn’t changed her. “If you wanted me here earlier, then you should have put ten fifty-five on the invitations, not eleven a.m.” Music from a string quartet just to the right of their row began to play. “Looks like we’re starting. Now, shush, you don’t want to ruin this day with your yapping, do you? Not with all the planning you did.”

Artemis’s nostrils flared, but she clamped her mouth shut. Smiling to himself smugly, he settled into his seat. While the last year here on the Upperworld had been a living hell, for today, at least, it would be worth it.

After all, this was the day his parents were getting married.

Actually, Aphrodite was his biological mother, but Hephaestus was not his biological father. The two originally had an arranged marriage, which they had agreed to stay in until Eros reached adulthood and gained his immortality.

Even as a child, he understood that they were not the typical married couple. He had prepared himself for that day when they would eventually divorce. It happened quickly and seemingly without any hard feelings from either party. Of course, over the last few millennia, Eros had had an inkling that Aphrodite and Hephaestus might have carried the torch for each other, but since he never saw them together, he couldn’t really say for certain. So, when they had met again by accident about a year ago—in this very same place, and thanks to him, ironically—he had felt the spark between them. Which was why he did what he did—force them to work together to wrangle the misbehaving Winged app until they discovered their love for each other.

And even if he died a mortal, it would be all worth it, to see them finally together.

The bride and groom walked arm in arm down the aisle, both smiling from ear to ear. A year ago, when they first got together, Eros had told Hephaestus that he hadn’t seen either of them looking so happy. It seemed that still held true today, and if it were possible, they both looked even more radiant and joyful.

A few days ago, Hephaestus had come by—he did that every now and then, as did his mother—and Eros asked him jokingly if he was nervous about getting married again. Without hesitation, the god of forges and fire simply said, “No.” That straightforward answer further solidified Eros’s belief that what he did to bring them together was justified.

If he were honest with himself, the love radiating from Aphrodite and Hephaestus as they pledged to be together overwhelmed even him. After thousands of years as God of Love and Desire, he thought he’d grown used to the emotion. But it was evident to him and perhaps everyone here today that they were truly witnessing something special, a bond that would last for eternity.

Once the officiant, Hestia, finished her words of blessing, the groom kissed the bride, and a cheer rang from the audience. As soon as Hephaestus released her, Aphrodite turned toward the guests, her gaze immediately landing on Eros. His chest tightened with emotion at the happiness—true, pure happiness—on his mother’s face. He sent her a smug smile, and she could only shake her head and laugh.

Hephaestus turned his head to briefly catch Eros’s eye. The corner of his mouth tugged up, he gave a quick nod, then turned to his wife to say a few words. They began to walk down the aisle, and everyone got up from their chairs to follow the happy couple.

“Ugh, are we going to have the reception at the barn?” he complained.

“And what’s wrong with the barn?” Artemis asked. “I was married there and we had the twins’ gender reveal there too.”

“For one thing, it’s a barn .” The Alaska pack celebrated every major event in that dingy shed. He had attended one shindig there—some kid’s first shifting party or whatever—and had never stepped foot in it ever again.

“I like the barn,” she sniffed. “Plus, I did all the decorations and arrangements, so everything is perfect.”

“Yeah, whatever you say. There’s an open bar, right?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“Great. You know where I’ll be.” Speeding up, he marched away from her and Cade and headed straight to the barn, making a beeline for the bar. He ordered a double scotch and downed it, then asked for another one before he skulked to the darkest corner, leaning against the wall as he nursed his drink and watched the festivities.

While he was ecstatic for his parents, he just wasn’t in the mood to mingle at the moment, especially considering there were some gods and goddesses in attendance. Bitterness coated his mouth at the sight of them, oozing with such divine energy that it nearly choked him, reminding him of what he had lost.

He had to find a way to gain his godly status and get the fuck out of here.

But how?

How was he supposed to learn to be human exactly? The council didn’t even give him a fucking clue. All they said was they would “know” when that happened. In the past year of living here, all he’d learned was that humans were all damned idiots, caring only about themselves. If that was what it meant to be human, then he would have gotten his immortality back after a day because he sure didn’t give a shit about anything anymore.

Knocking the rest of his scotch back, he made his way to the crowd of guests. While all he wanted to do was leave this place and go back to his room, he still hadn’t spoken to his parents.

I should at least say hello. And maybe ‘I told you so.’

Scanning the crowd, he found them near the dance floor, along with their hosts. He was about to say hello when a loud, piercing wail sliced through the barn, echoing off the cavernous space.

“Waahhhhhhhhh!”

“What in the world is that racket?” he exclaimed. “Oh. It’s you .”

Eros narrowed his eyes at the crying child, who was being held up by a petite, brown-haired woman. He hardly saw Artemis and Cade’s children, but he always heard them around the pack’s complex, mostly during mealtimes at the community center. Artemis wanted the children to be comfortable around people so she always brought them around with her, but that also meant Eros couldn’t get a moment’s peace around common areas. Usually, whenever he saw them, he’d run in the other direction, but seeing as the brat was between him and his parents, he had no choice but to interact with it now.

He snorted. “Don’t you do anything but scream and cry?”

“It’s a baby,” the woman, who still held up the child like it was a bunch of bananas being inspected, said. “It’s how they communicate as they have yet to learn any language skills. They develop?—”

“Here, let me have her.” He plucked the child—it was the girl twin, Patty or Penelope or whatever—from her and perched her on his hip. Staring into her bright blue eyes, he said in a serious tone, “Be. Quiet.”

The child ceased its caterwauling immediately.

He huffed. That wasn’t so?—

“Yeow!” A sharp pain shot up the bridge of his nose as Patty–Penelope’s small fist connected with his face. “What did you do that for?”

Much to his annoyance, she let out a peal of laughter.

“Oh, is that funny?”

“I didn’t think you’d be good with children,” Hephaestus remarked.

“Probably a fluke. I think something is wrong with this child.”