Fifty years in the future, two people meet, in a story that was foretold millions of years before they were born.

Psychellé Dixon scares men. Not that her paranoid parents let her actually see any, but she's heard the rumors. She's too beautiful, her face too cold, her eyes too light. There's something just not right about her.

Everett Maxon is a well known womanizer. With his eyes of liquid sin and a devilish smile, he does his mother's dirty work: seducing women for secrets, and murdering the people with secret vendettas against his family. He's one of the elites, the top one percent who can afford to have their bodies altered with science. When Everett and his mother come to visit the glittering beaches of Hawaii to see his uncle, Everett's mother asks him to do her a favor. A big one.

She wants Everett to find a way into the elusive Psychelle Dixon's bed, and do what he does best. Glean information. Find her dirty secrets. Seduce her. And then he'll murder her in cold blood.

Except this time, Everett finds a girl who is as wickedly smart as she is beautiful. He finds a girl who can melt his cold heart, a girl who is his Soul, and he, her Love.

*This is a re-telling based on the Greek/roman myth Eros(Cupid) and Psyche.

~*~

The slap of string against leather snapped through the air, and then the dull thud of an arrow embedding itself into wood. Everett Maxon would have smiled, but his focus was already on the next arrow in his hand, which soon smacked into next the target with a satisfying thump. Even then, another arrow was already being aimed, as the man spun past a looming tree branch.
    A cool breeze slipped through the forest, rattling branches and shifting restless leaves. It ruffled Everett's dark hair, and swept under his huge, batlike wings. He shot through the trees, ducking under gnarled branches and dodging dark, twisted trunks. Suddenly, a huge trunk stretched in front of him, branches splitting out of it in a complex maze of tendrils. Everett threw himself backward, wings clapped to his sides, and drawing and nocking a metal arrow as he went. As he tumbled backward, the man's eyes locked on a red dot in the distance. A breath left his mouth before the arrow was flying. Everett didn't have time to look if it hit, though he was almost certain it did, as he was twisting his body down. He plummeted toward the ground, unmoving.
    Milliseconds before he was to hit the leaf strewn ground, Everett's wings snapped out. Huge, dark membranes unfurled, tightening with strain, and shooting him across the forest floor. Bow tucked against his chest, Everett sped along the forest floor. Only now did he allow for celebration. A whoop left his mouth as he wove past ferns and shrubs. An unruly grin split his face as he came upon the last target, stabbed directly down the center with a shimmering silver arrow.
    After collecting the bolts out of the soft wood, Everett darted above the tree line with two powerful wingbeats, bow slung over his shoulder. Below him, the green sea of Lanai's forest stretched across the island's rocky cliffs, blanketing the gray with the vibrant colors of spring. The sound of the ocean crashing against the boulders reached his ears, and the sun peeked out from behind heavy clouds. Everett's eyes scanned the forest, and then he tucked his wings to his side and dove toward the island. He loved the rush of wind in his face, the smell of salty sea air in his nose, the sun against his tanned skin.

As he came closer to the ground, he began to slow, cupping his wings to catch the thick air and backwinging to slow himself. He touched down amid a great deal of fluttering leaves and debris.
"Good morning, Everett." A sweet, feminine voice called. Everett knew that voice.
"Amara." He turned to find a woman standing at the door to his mansion. To be perfectly honest, she was the most beautiful woman he knew. She had long, mid-thigh length hair that practically glowed white in the sunlight. It was perfectly straight, and it framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, as it flipped and waved in the slight morning wind. Her eyes were a striking blue over a delicate nose and full, naturally red lips. She was tall, not so much as his 6'5 frame, but she was elegant and delicate at the same time. It was her over-the-shoulder grin that had gotten her first on the top ten most beautiful women in the world list. Amara Maxon had taken the world by storm. She was also his mother. She smiled and stepped toward him.
"I wish you would call me Mom."
"I thought this was supposed to be a vacation." He watched her warily, ignoring what she said.
"It is."
He watched impassively as she stepped closer. "Then what do you want?"
She looked up at him, eyes kind. "I love you."
"How could you not?" The corner of his mouth turned up sarcastically.
    She rolled her eyes half-heartedly. "Such modesty."
    He smirked. "I wonder where I got it from."
    Amara shook her head. "Not me, that's for sure." But her eyes twinkled, giving her away.
    Everett shook his head. "What are you here for, Mom, teasing me?"
    Her eyes lost the sparkle. "I need a favor."
    Everett's smile turned dark. "Forget it."
    Amara pressed her lips together. "Everett, listen-"
    "No." He brushed past her. "I'm done doing your favors."
    Amara followed him, steps soft compared to his hard boots. "Everett."
    "Mom, no." He opened the door to the house and slung his bow and quiver onto a table. "I've told you before, I'm done with your games. If you screw something up, you get to fix it."
    "That's not what this is."
    "Sure." He said drily, stepping into the kitchen and sticking his hands under the faucet, waiting as it lathered his hands in a soap and water mix.
    "We're at the top of the world, Everett. The path up here never is easy." She perched on a stool.
    "Easy?" He spun around. "No, for you it was easy. For you, you just ask me to fix something, and poof, it's gone. A rival getting ahead in business? Stick your son on the case, and he'll take out their biggest customer. Need dirty rumors to pass around? Shove your son into the daughter's arms, get him to make her talk in bed." Everett's light hazel eyes were cold.
    "Ask any other person on these islands, Everett. They've done much, much worse to get to where they are now." She snapped at him.
    He turned, rummaging in a cabinet above the fridge. After a second he pulled out a file. Pressing his thumb against the blue strip holding it shut, he waited until it turned green before throwing it onto the counter in front of her.
    "Much, much worse?" He asked. "Much worse than ruining innocent lives? Much worse than this?"
    She opened the file slowly. Inside sat a neat stack of papers. Faces, arrows, pictures, and handwritten notes littered the papers. The dates he had made contact with them, aligned neatly on the upper right corner. Slowly, she spread them in front of her, eyes skipping over names and faces.
    Finally, she looked back up at his angry face. "None of these people were innocent." She said after a moment. "None of them. I made sure of that before I came to you."
    "I don't care. I'm not doing it again."
    She was silent for a moment. "Everett, this is the last time I will ever ask you to do anything like this."
    He was silent, so she continued. "This could break us, Everett. These people are coming after us. And they will succeed in tearing us down. I need you, Everett. Just one last time."
    "Why don't you do it, Mom. If it's so important to you, why don't you go and flutter your eyelashes and stab them in the back yourself?"
    "It's a girl, Everett. And she's heterosexual." Amara was calm.
    Everett ground his teeth, his fingers curling into claws on the cool granite. Angrily, he spun around, to stomp to the edge of the kitchen. At the door, he stopped, and looked back at his mother.
    "Fine. Send me a fucking comm with the details. But this had better be the last goddamn time this happens."
    "Language." Amara reminded him mildly. "And you'll have the info by tonight."
    He turned, sent her a scorching glare, and strode out of the room. The door could be heard slamming throughout the house.

A/N:
Guess what? Amara is Aphrodite! Get it? I feel so smart. 😏
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-xWe'reAllMadHerex (formerly UI)