Page 57 of Touch

Even more incompatible with her culture, Love’s responding with equal venom to Envy’s jibe about her preoccupation with affectionate touches. Gods and goddesses hardly care about being cared about. At least, in that way. Yet something is missing from how Dark Gods regard mating.

Worse, being the Goddess of Love comes with sexual responsibilities. She must know the emotion inside and out, experience it in every way. That means she must one day consummate with a deity of her choosing.

Love vows not to. Not unless it happens in the manner she desires.

The Guides took pains to create her. Whether there’s another stubborn star in the sky remains to be seen. The point is, Love cannot be replaced easily. She’s their gem, her wicked antics often excused, from threatening to scratch the Goddess of Happiness with an arrow, to throwing a fit or a punch, to fixating on human touch.

Nevertheless, her instructors won’t be pleased to hear about Love’s plan to remain abstinent, nor will The Court. Law dictates they cannot force her into a bed, though they shall certainly discipline her until she gives in.

Love is willing to take that chance. She hopes it’s worth the price.

Anger lets her go. “Stop acting like a human,” he snaps.

***

In the mortal world, the Guides introduce them to human landscapes. Cities and villages and deserts and jungles.

One of these places is a village caked in snow, where a blizzard rages. Surrounded by flurries, Anger’s pupils dilate. He clenches his bow while the four archers pretend not to notice his distress.

Love approaches him later in The Dark Fates. He’s hunched over and sulking inside a shimmering mineral cave, where a grotto ripples and foliage grows within the shadows. This would be a glorious opportunity to mock him. Too bad she’s in no mood for a skirmish.

Anger bows his head. “Leave me.”

Love does nothing of the sort. “Why were you scared?”

“Fuck off. It’s my business.”

“Storms cannot kill us.”

“Yet the tempest looked angry.” He grunts at the ground, dark hair falling around his countenance, fingers gripping his knees. “A means of rage I cannot control.”

There are many things they won’t be able to control when they’re dispatched. It’s impossible to predict. She fears and longs for that.

Love lowers herself beside him. “It was brave of you to stay. I would have run.

“No,” he grits out in a low timbre. “You would not have.”

That’s possibly a compliment.

“I had to remain. Retreating would have embarrassed us all.” He rubs the back of his neck. “What happens to one of us, happens to all of us.”

Love’s hand steals out to… what? Pat his shoulder? Offer the kind of touch he won’t appreciate?

Out of nowhere, Anger swerves toward her, as if attuned to her motions. At his magnetic gaze, she changes her mind and yanks her arm back.

The god’s pupils flicker with something detrimental, susceptible, and on the brink of collapse. He pins her with unblinking eyes and draws out, “You need to stop that.”

But if his warning has taken on a guttural edge, referring to more than just her gesture, Love doesn’t acknowledge it.

***

He’s right. Love must stop. Now she learns why.

The Court makes everyone watch what Envy does to Wonder. The horrific sound of torture fills Love’s ears. She opens her mouth.

Wonder screams. Her wails reach a chaotic decibel and seize Love’s heart. The sight of the goddess’s head thrown back as Envy lashes her makes Love’s eyes water.

Wonder has been disloyal. She tried to run away from The Dark Fates, to abandon her people. It’s a traitorous act, something having to do with a mortal.

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