My lucious cupid psyche.., p.1
My Lucious: Cupid Psyche Modern Retelling Academy Romance, page 1
Table of Contents
My Lucious (Sub Rosa Secret Society, #2)
My Lucious
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Author's Note
My heart, body, and soul belong to my Greek god, but my lips still tingle when they taste the kiss of my beautiful but cruel professor.
Is it possible to love two men at the same time?
JUST WHEN MY NAME HAS been cleared, and the world no longer thinks I'm a mass murderer, trouble comes knocking once again on my doorstep in the most dreadful form...of a love triangle.
O Bella of Forks, a little help, please.
Is there a way for me to know who my one and only is?
THEME: DIRTY AND DARK academy romance, definitely not vanilla.
Note: This book ends with a (not-painful) cliffhanger, but if you are familiar with the myth of Cupid and Psyche, which this series is a loose adaptation of, then you'll know that they'll once again live happily ever after in the next book. My Lucious also comes with a (romantic) mystery to solve.
My Lucious
A Modern-Day Cupid & Psyche
Dirty & Dark Academy Romance
Sub Rosa Secret Society #2
by Marian Tee
Copyright 2021 by Streak Digital Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
A chilly breeze blows inside our classroom on a late Friday afternoon, and I find myself shivering despite already wearing a waterfall cardigan over my turtleneck. Today was one of those rare days I opted for fashion over warmth, but I've definitely learned my lesson. Rosethorne might have the state's prettiest school uniforms, but what good would looking attractive do when you're half-frozen to death?
Our new Istoría teacher starts handing out today's test sheets, and the collective groans that succeed this draw my attention back to the class. The clique of spoiled brats seated in the front row whine about having to take the quiz, but Professor Mayumi only blinks at them in sham innocence, and I quickly hide my smile by turning my head towards the windows.
Ouch!
A harsh glare of sunlight has me hastily shading my eyes with the back of my hand. This, I think crabbily, is another reason why I thought I could survive the cold mountain air without my trusty fleece-lined blazer.
It was already this sunny at just a quarter past six today, but I should've known better than to rely on visual weather cues. Things like weather forecasts and climate change are so Pre-3rd, and ever since the Third War had gods swooping in to save humanity, it's become a lot harder to tell the difference between natural and divinely influenced phenomenon.
The rustling sound of paper makes me drag my gaze away from the windows. I finally have my copy of the test, and I can feel my face contorting in a grimace when I find a blank map staring back at me.
Oh, shit.
I really like Rosethorne's newest faculty addition, but...is it too late to join the other students in protest of this quiz?
I love studying about places and stuff, but the feeling unfortunately isn't mutual. While I can memorize names and numbers just fine, it's when I'm asked to look up things sans GPS that I end up in trouble, both figuratively and literally.
There's the usual clatter of clicks and clinks as the other students mull over their choices, but since I've yet to acquire the art of quill picking, I simply pull the drawer under my writing desk open and take out a bottle of ink and one randomly chosen quill.
It's already been over two weeks since I transferred, but that length of time sadly isn't enough for me to get a hang of either Vermont's shivery-cold weather...or my new school's fancy writing requisites.
I used to live in a small, almost-always-sunny town in California, and the life I led back then was...ordinary. Like, ballpoint-pens-and-public-schools-ordinary, and so yeah, this whole quill thing was still a little too posh for me. I've lost count of the number of times I've accidentally toppled my ink bottle over my notes, and there was even that one time when an entire class saw me unintentionally snap my quill into two because of my crudely strong grip.
Cultured and graceful, I am so obviously not, which is why I find myself mentally crossing my fingers as I carefully dip my quill into my ink bottle. A mess-free answer sheet is the goal here. No accidental spillage. Zero quill mortality rates. That's all I want, and for that to happen, I'm going to make sure I take my time answering each question, starting with...
Place an X on the areas under the jurisdiction of the Ennead of Heliopolis.
Ha! Easy-peasy. They're probably the most infamous bunch among the divine, and that's not just because of their preference for keeping harems. In the early Post-3rd years, the Egyptian gods also made waves for turning down the requests of wealthier kingdoms and nations to serve them. Their motherland of pyramids, secret tombs, and mummies was all those sheikh-like gods cared about, 'Nuff said.
Circle the areas under the jurisdiction of the deities of the Kaluwalhatian.
Child's play. This particular pantheon is the only divine authority in Southeast Asia, and its seat of power, the Philippines, has an easily recognizable shape on the map.
Shade the areas under the jurisdiction of the Olympian Pantheon.
Oh wow. Really? That's it? I guess I worried for nothing. Even first-graders know that the Olympians only hold divine authority over North America and Greece, which should be...shit. Where is Greece in the world map again?
I stare hard at my quiz sheet, but the squiggly lines making up the European continent stubbornly refuse to make sense.
Let's see, mm.
Like the Philippines, Greece is comprised of a gazillion of islands. I remember that much at least, and it's right next to the...aha!
Recalling its proximity to the Mediterranean Sea is all the clue I need, but since I'm still not handy with my quill, it takes me a good fifteen minutes before I'm done shading every Greek island under Olympian rule.
Professor Mayumi glances up as I approach her desk to hand over my answer sheet. "All done?"
I'm about to say yes when the sound of someone knocking on the open door of our classroom cuts me off.
"Do you have a minute?"
The voice is silkily familiar, and the other girls in class erupt with the usual babble of excited whispers and giggles while I fight against the urge to bolt. My heart races in heightened awareness as Professor Lucious comes to a stop next to me, and I can't help thinking that the last time we've been this close to each other was the night he kissed me rescued me from certain death.
I know I shouldn't take a peek at him, but I still end up doing so. A mass of black curls and equally dark eyes makes him seem like a fallen angel, and his clothes only add to the effect: it's a perfect marriage of exquisitely preppy and sinfully sexy; black sweater vest over gray button-up and tie, and rounding this off is a grungy-looking pair of jeans and boots.
A part of me is already dreading and half-expecting him to say something mortifyingly sly in front of Professor Mayumi, but I realize I've made myself anxious over nothing when the two start talking like I don't even exist. Worst of all, they're speaking in Latin, a language that's remained dead even in the Post-3rd world, and a twinge of unease pinches my heart when I see my Istoría teacher flash a wonderful pair of dimples. The sight is enthrallingly transformative, and I can't help blinking at the way Professor Mayumi's appearance has instantly changed from elegantly nondescript to breathtakingly charming and shit, shit, shit, did I really just think that?
Since my own looks have given me nothing but trouble, I've never been tempted to make a dig about another girl's appearance. I prefer to be a bitch without being shallow or petty, and while 'elegantly nondescript' may be a more polite version of 'classy but plain', a dig is still a dig, you know?
Guilt eats me alive for allowing myself to stoop so low, and the feeling worsens when I think about how my pettiness may have a lot to do with the seeming intimacy between the two.
How they knew each other and what they were to each other is none of my business.
They can be lovers for all I know, but it doesn't and shouldn't matter because if the tables were ever turned, and I find out that my god is even the tiniest bit affected by another woman's relationship with someone else—-
Just thinking about it makes my whole being cry out, and all thoughts about Professor Lucious disappear.
All I can suddenly think about is my god.
Eros.
I want to see him.
I need to see him.
But just as I'm hoping to slip away unnoticed, fingers curl around my wrist before I can even start to turn, and I find myself reluctantly lifting my gaze to dark eyes that are as lustrous as they are enigmatic. My lips part, but just as I'm about to ask him to let go, I hear one of the other girls call me a slut under her breath, and it's just so annoyingly childish I find myself doing the opposite.
Instead o
Amusement flickers in the professor's gaze. "Feisty as ever, hm?"
I start to answer, but feeling his fingers loosen its hold distracts me, and I'm left stunned by an improper sense of emptiness.
"There's no need for you to leave, Ms. Mariposa. Mayumi and I are done talking. I apologize for the interruption."
He walks away before I can say another word, and as I watch him walk out of the room, all I can think about is...
Her name.
He called the other professor by her name, and while I've heard him address other women by their first names before, this time sounded different.
This time felt different, and I hate myself for even realizing that it's so.
I love Eros with all my heart and soul, and while I know I'd rather kill myself than betray my god in any way—-
Why do I still find myself caring that things are different between them?
Why am I letting it matter that Professor Lucious has called the other woman Mayumi...all the while addressing me like I'm no different from his other students?
Chapter Two
It's the last Saturday of September, and I'm all alone as I step out of the front doors of my dorm. Getting to the first set of gates from Dark Rose House takes about twenty minutes by foot, and the only company I have left are Victorian buildings that watch over me with eyes made of stained glass.
I know I'm letting my imagination run wild as usual here, but Rosethorne's many buildings have always felt alive to me.
Sorta like sleeping stone giants...but the kind that you don't want to wake up on the wrong side of the bed.
Friday nights always see an exodus of students, and come the weekend Rosethorne is once again like a ghost town with its empty wide roads. There's just nothing like the brighter lights of town life that can promise a quick escape from schoolwork, and if Eros had canceled our plans just a little earlier, I'd probably have left campus along with the others.
Crisp, dried-up leaves crackle under my sneaker-covered feet as I cover the last few hundred yards leading to the gates. It's the only thing that breaks the eerie monotony of silence, but trauma that has yet to heal makes the sound more comforting than sinister.
The night I almost died, everything here was too, too quiet.
Since then, noise - any kind of noise - has become my safety blanket.
The road ahead of me seems endless, and my thoughts start to wander into undesirable territory.
Last night had been horrible. With my god out of reach, I had found myself alone with my thoughts, and all of it had been...vile. Over and over, my still-guilty conscience had tortured me with memories of Professor Lucious and Professor Mayumi talking, but it wasn't the thought of them together that hurt me most.
What really tore me apart about those memories was remembering how my heart had been able to beat for my god...while aching for someone else.
My god deserves better from me, and I had tossed and turned the entire night, barely sleeping a wink as I desperately tried to make sense of my seemingly helpless fascination with the professor. I wish I could convince myself it was just his looks that made the difference, but Eros' own brothers are just as gorgeous, and yet none of them has managed to make my heart skip a beat the way Professor Lucious always could.
The thought continues to bother me even as I reach the school gates, and it's only when I see my Uber coming up the driveway that I find myself momentarily distracted. The face behind the wheel is familiar, and I actually find myself waving when the driver steps out.
"Hey." I'm normally not the friendly type, but for this kind old man, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. "It's nice seeing you again."
His eyes light up at my greeting, and the sight is so lovely it's almost...purifying. "You remember me then, little missy?"
"Good guys like you are hard to forget."
The old man laughs at my quip. "Never thought you'd have a sweet tongue on you."
"It's a once in a Greek moon kind of thing," I feel compelled to warn, "so try not to get used to it."
He chuckles, and I just let him be. He obviously thinks I'm joking, and I see no point in bursting his bubble.
"Are you ready to go?" he asks with a smile.
"Yup." I offer my hand. "I'm Halyna, by the way."
The old man's face brightens up again with another smile as he shakes my hand. "Rios."
He puts my overnight bag in the trunk while I slide into the backseat, and it's only when we're about to speed away that I catch sight of Professor Lucious watching me from the school gates. The intensity of his gaze stirs something inside of me, but I clench my jaw and force myself to look away.
Chemistry, I tell myself fiercely.
That's all there is to this.
Chemistry that's rare and at its most potent, but at the end of the day, chemistry is also vastly overrated, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before this thing fades away.
Right?
"CAN I KISS YOU GOOD night?"
"No."
"What about me?"
"No."
I see my parents exchanging looks, and I immediately start backing away. These two are clearly up to no good, and when they face me again with evil looks on their faces, I know I'm right.
They suddenly lunge towards me, but they're too late. I've already made a run for it—-
Bam!
My bedroom door slams in their faces, and it's only when I'm safely out of their sight that I let my lips gradually curve. Seriously, those two are just too—-
"Bet you five dollars she's thinking we're the cutest parents in the world."
My almost-smile instantly converts into a scowl, and my mood grows sourer when I overhear Leslie sigh in response. "If only she'd be more truthful about it, she'd be just as cute—-"
I yank the door open, my irritation getting the better of me. "You guys are not—-"
SMACK!
Hugh and Leslie have already managed to kiss me - one on each cheek - before I realize what's happening, and sweet Greek heavens, but I really do have the—-
Cutest
Most adorable
Grossest, I insist to myself. They're the grossest parents in the world, especially with the way they're now looking at me so, so slyly.
GRRR.
I hate it when they're looking at me like this. It's like they're silently telling me that no matter how tough I act around them, they know it's just that: an act.
Which, unfortunately, is the truth.
I'd do anything for this crazy couple, and I know they know that, too. But since I'm also the type who'd rather choke on Cerberus' spit than admit such things out loud—-
BAM!
I slam the door shut on their faces again, and with a louder bang this time, but my parents only laughingly call out good night. I can even hear the two traitors talking smack about me as their voices fade away, and the sound of it is so, so priceless I'm tempted to do something so unnaturally sentimental like turning their pointless chatter into my ringtone.
It's my first weekend back with my parents since entering Rosethorne, and the day we've spent together has been so gloriously normal that my heart aches a little just thinking about it. There's Hugh boasting he's a good cook like usual just before serving us burnt popcorn. There's Leslie insisting we play Resident Evil despite being the biggest scaredy-cat, and then there's me trying to avoid their kissing attacks, just like how I've been doing for so many years.
I used to take days like this for granted. I think we all did, and it was only when life had gotten really, really ugly that my parents and I realized just how precious days like this were.
Not counting my chemical issue with the professor, life is starting to look really good right now, and that's what terrifies me. I don't want to be pessimistic, but days like this rarely last, and the fears persist even as I snuggle under the covers.
I want to believe a happy-ever-after is in the cards for me, and I'm still in the process of convincing myself when my eyes slowly drift shut.
