Page 53 of Touch

Andrew is intelligent and shrewd. She is no longer surprised by his ability to see through her deception, to cobble the facts together. However, the truth is more complex.

He deserves to know what will befall him, to learn of his role in the greater scheme. Yet he never will. Small details are safe, but the larger plot is not for his ears if she wants him to live.

Love feels as small as a crumb. Anger has forever changed Ulrik and Griffin because she’d made an assumption, had acted in panic and haste, robbing the men of an opportunity to change on their own, to willfully forge a resolution with Andrew. Without mercy, she has stolen their autonomy.

At midnight, Love retrieves Andrew’s coat from the bed. Wrapped in his scent, she collects her bow and quiver, then sets off into the village. The weather is tame, a shawl of fog licking along the sidewalks and mist laminating the structures.

She passes a middle-aged couple whom she’d matched two months ago. They trudge to their car, their boots raking through the snow, and stop beside the vehicle. The woman knots her scarf while the man grieves over a scratch on the hubcap. They suit each other without challenging each other. They’re the same pragmatic individuals they were before the first kiss. Their bond is flawless.

Love has saved them from wild quarrels and tearful regrets. The same disturbing things Andrew has made her feel tonight, she has spared them. Yet if she had the choice, she would repeat this evening, despite how much it had hurt to see him furious with her, to watch him leave afterward.

On the winding driveway fronting Andrew’s house, Love pauses to gaze up at his window. He came close to figuring out her plans. Once he and Holly are together, how will his life change? How will Griffin feel?

In a different world, Love could leave them alone, leave everyone in this world to their own devices. But where would that leave her? And the rest of her people?

“Are we doing the right thing?” she asks.

“That depends on if you want the mortal or immortal answer.”

Love turns. Wonder stands beside her, the goddess’s pensive green eyes shimmering, her mouth caught somewhere between a smile and a frown.

“I wantyouranswer,” Love pleads. “Do you believe we’re doing the right thing?”

“Dearest, you shouldn’t punish yourself. You’re trying to save our world and spare your human.”

“Stop diverting. I’m talking about instinct, not duty or loyalty.”

“Oh, really?” Reproachful, Wonder holds up her scarred hands. “Is this what loyalty looks like?”

Love clams up. It’s not.

“I’ve disobeyed and paid for it,” Wonder reminds her. “You don’t wish to know what that’s like. It’s about time you regretted what you made Anger do. Of all the shameful things to request of him. If you draw attention to yourself, Anger will grow suspicious. He might slip and reveal damning facts to The Court.”

“He told you about Ulrik and Griffin.” When Wonder makes no reply, Love reasons, “I could not match Andrew with an adversary and a nuisance in his midst. And I didn’tmakeAnger do anything.”

“Oh, Love. He’s incapable of refusing you—,” Wonder stops, biting back her words.

Regardless, Love would beg to differ. For the greater good, Anger obliged her this once. Otherwise he doesn’t favor her, doesn’t trust her not to stray, and doesn’t have misgivings about spying.

“If the mortal matters to you, I already said there’s another option,” Wonder reminds Love. “If Andrew falls for you—”

“He won’t.”

“—and if you fall for him—”

“I won’t.”

“—this will end differently. You don’t have to kneel, serenade the sky, or make a ceremony out of it. Your hearts will do the work. If you pay attention, you’ll know the moment it happens.”

Love shakes her head. “Why are you helping me? Why are you telling me this?”

Shadows creep across Wonder’s face. “You’re not the only one who ever cared for a mortal.”

Oh.Of course.

The memory of Wonder’s punishment surfaces with glittering clarity. Back in The Dark Fates, on the day Wonder was tortured, everyone knew she’d defied celestial law. Having abandoned her post and fled into the mortal world, she had attempted to communicate with a human man. However, Wonder had kept all other details to herself, including why she’d taken such a rash action and who the mortal had been. Beyond the fundamentals, the full story has never come out.

“When we were still in training, my Guide took me to observe the humans,” Wonder confides, her eyes dimming. “I was picking wildflowers in a meadow when I saw him riding a dark horse. Three hounds were bounding after him like familiars, and he was laughing in a raspy tenor, which told me he could sing. And those eyes—they were the color of ashes.” Her lips tremble. “I don’t know what came over me. I was filled with desire, yet there was also this invasive feeling—something provocative and all-consuming.”

---