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As in, iron weaponry. Why hadn’t Envy and Sorrow realized this at once? Are they daft? Or had they been too waterlogged from the rapids to draw this conclusion?

There’s no point in dwelling. If the weapons are forged of iron, they might belong to Anger instead of Love, but it’s less likely since Anger had secured his bow and quiver within the boat. So no, it has to be Love’s archery.

Can it be? Did the enemy pursue those arms while swimming after them? Or is it feasible that Love’s weapons had washed up ashore, only to be hijacked? Had the detritus simply floated into the wrong hands? If so, there’s a chance that Envy and Sorrow’s archery might be in that group’s possession as well.

Resolution eclipses relief. It also kills the sex high.

Envy massages the bridge of his nose. “We were going to make the trek weaponless anyway. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“We’ll figure out the rest now,” Sorrow insists.

“Will we? Good luck with that, hun.”

“Are you not hearing me, Envy?” she trills, pushing away and flinging her arms to the sides so that her breasts bounce. “They. Have. Our. Weapons.”

He glowers, reading her mind. “Sorrow…”

“I can handle three archers at a time,” she tallies, raising her eyebrows at him and waiting.

He shakes his head, because he fucking knew it. “Without my longbow, I can’t take more than five.”

“Fine. So we can—”

“No, we can’t.”

“Goddammit, Envy!”

Her eyes lance through him. Really? They’re going to stand here in their birthday suits, cock-blocked by destiny, fighting about certain doom and even more certain death?

“It’s two versus two-thousand,” he argues.

“Yep,” she says, propping her fists on her hips.

“And we’re unarmed.”

“Yep.”

“And it’s the opposite direction from where we need to go.”

“Yep again.”

“And they’ll be looking out for us.”

She grabs his face, pleading, “Yes. They will.”

That’s all. And she’s right. Their allies can afford them with replacement arms, but it’s not the same without their most kindred weapons. This battle won’t be the same for any of them. They might lose before they’ve begun.

Not to mention, they’d snooped in the Astral Sea recently, when Envy checked his house for extras. So what’s the difference now?

Uneven odds aren’t what scares him. Not by a longbow.

Envy shakes his head again. Sorrow throws a fit, thrashing against him while he struggles to hold her. Eventually, she loses steam and slumps in resignation.

Kissing her forehead, he promises it will be all right. They’ll find another way.

He can’t blame her for the dagger eyes. Since lovemaking is no longer on the agenda, Envy makes a sly comment. Honestly, he’s not sure what the comment is once it’s out, but it gets her to snort with a grudge.

They watch each other dry off with the towels he’d brought. All right, Envy might embellish by moving with a tad more swagger, noting how her gaze jumps to his nether regions. It’s about as often as he checks out her perky tits.