Chapter 1

The Sacred Fountain was supposed to be a place of quiet reflection, but at midnight during the "Fairy Tale Mock-Wedding" fundraiser, it looked more like a neon-pink fever dream. Finley shifted his weight, feeling the wires of his "Fairy Godfather" wings dig into his shoulder blades. The wings were a vibrant, offensive shade of chartreuse, shedding glitter with every breath he took.

"If you move your wrist one more inch to the left, I’m going to file for a simulated annulment," Finley snapped.

Julian, his "husband" for the next twenty-four hours, offered a sharp, effortless grin that had annoyed Finley since freshman year. Julian looked infuriatingly good even in the makeshift crown of plastic ivy the theater department had shoved onto his head. "Careful, Finley. You’re shedding on my shoes. Zoology majors actually care about their plumage."

They were bound together at the wrist by a braided silk rope encrusted with "magic" adhesive glitter. It was the University’s most lucrative prank—auctioning off rivals into "loveless marriages" to fund the spring formal. Finley had been certain he’d go for a low price, but an anonymous bidder had dropped three hundred dollars to ensure he was shackled to Julian.

"I can't believe someone spent three bills just to watch us argue," Finley muttered, squinting at the dark trees surrounding the fountain. "It’s a waste of biological resources."

"Maybe they just like the drama," Julian suggested, though his voice lacked its usual bite. He tugged at the rope, bringing Finley a half-step closer. "Or maybe they wanted to see the great Finley Miller finally pinned down."

Before Finley could retort, a shadow moved in the oak branches above. "Pixie check!" a voice squealed. A bucket tipped, and a torrential downpour of biodegradable "pixie dust" exploded over them.

Finley sputtered, his mouth filling with the faint taste of sugar and cornstarch. He was now entirely covered in iridescent purple powder. Julian looked like he’d been dipped in a galaxy.

"That’s it," Finley hissed, wiping his eyes. "I’m picking the lock. I don't care about the charity. I’m going home, taking a three-hour shower, and burning these wings."

Julian reached out with his free hand, catching Finley’s shoulder to steady him. "Wait. You’ll just tear the rope. It’s supposed to be a 'magical' bond, remember? If you break it, the theater kids will chase us with glitter cannons until dawn."

"Why are you so calm about this?" Finley demanded, poking Julian in the chest with a glittery finger. "You’ve spent four years trying to make my life miserable. You stole my lab space in junior year. You out-published me on the fern study. And now you’re just... standing here in a plastic crown acting like this is fine?"

Julian’s smug expression finally faltered. He looked down at the silk rope connecting them. "I didn't steal your lab space to make you miserable, Finley. I did it because it was the only way to get you to talk to me for more than five seconds without you looking at a petri dish."

Finley froze. The fountain bubbled behind them, splashing water against the stone. "What?"

"The three hundred dollars," Julian said, his voice dropping to a low, honest register that Finley had never heard before. "It wasn't a group of fans. It was me. I outbid your entire Botany club."

The silence that followed was heavy with the scent of damp glitter and realization. Finley looked at the rope, then up at Julian’s face. The rivalry, the pranks, the constant bickering—it wasn't a wall; it was a bridge Julian had been trying to build with the only tools he had.

"You’re a complete idiot," Finley whispered, his cynical shell cracking.

"I’m a Zoology major," Julian countered, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "We’re known for our complex mating displays."

Finley huffed a laugh, his own irritation melting into something warm and terrifying. He reached out and adjusted Julian’s crooked ivy crown. "This is the worst wedding I’ve ever been to. And I’m wearing chartreuse wings."

"It doesn't have to be a wedding," Julian said, stepping closer until the glittery rope went slack between them. "We could just call it a very aggressive first date."

Finley looked toward the campus gates, then back at his rival. The "loveless marriage" was clearly a failure, but as Julian took his hand—not because of the rope, but because he wanted to—Finley decided he didn't mind the glitter so much.

"Fine," Finley said. "But you’re paying for the pancakes. And I’m keeping the wings on just to embarrass you."

Julian laughed, pulling Finley along as they started the long, sparkly walk toward the diner. "Deal."