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Without warning, and without brains, Love and Andrew do the same. The goddess abandons her weapons and then leaps on him, and he catches her, both of them checking for bruises. Satisfied that the other is in one piece, their foreheads land together.

Seriously? Malice and Wonder, too?

By the time Sorrow checks on them, they’ve already puckered up. Wonder has vacated her branch and also relinquished her longbow in favor of a kiss that’s simultaneously vicious and tender. Malice grasps the roots of Wonder’s hair, and Wonder clutches his nape, the starburst scars on her hands flexing as she and her demon go at it. Their tongues wrestle so deep into the moment, they must be licking each other’s tonsils.

Somehow, the kiss is as sexy as it is irritating.

Ostensibly, affection is a contagion. These three nauseating matches prove that when opposites attract, they promptly turn stupid. It must suck to love someone that much, to become sick with worry, to become so protective that it leads to foolish actions. It makes zero sense, this sentimental pulp.

A grudge builds in Sorrow’s fists as she feels the weight of Envy’s gaze. As someone who gets off on all things graphic, that he’s not ogling the lunacy around them is a testament to the altitude at which he’s hovering. The fondling between each couple must be hard to see from such an elevated vantage point.

However, that doesn’t justify why he’s fixating on Sorrow. The knowledge produces an itch across her flesh.

She clears her throat, then does it again. Finally, the pairings untangle themselves, and they turn to face each other.

Cursing, Anger swipes his bow off the ground and jabs it toward Sorrow’s naked tits. “Do I want to know?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says. “I went swimming.”

“And unfortunately, I went in the same direction,” Envy remarks before jumping off his branch.

“Gracious, how romantic,” Merry swoons. “A rendezvous in the midst of our quest. A secretive, unbridled moment between—”

“We should be so lucky, dearest,” Wonder replies.

“Speak for yourself,” Envy objects.

“It wasn’t a mating ritual,” Sorrow stresses. “It was the passionate equivalent of a fender bender.”

Nonetheless, Wonder ceases listening. She tilts her head toward the stars and consults their shimmer, as if there’s something hidden within the constellations.

Malice coils a lock of her hair around his finger. A raspy tenor slithers from his lips. “Hmm. If you ask me—”

“Only if we have a death wish,” Anger bites out.

“—we should all be fighting naked. Nudity is so very nudist, so blunt, so wild. Imagine how much added damage we could do if we went as bare-assed as heathens. I’d like to be a heathen.”

“As opposed to your angelic self?” Love quips, wiping a dirt streak from her feather-white dress.

“Tsk, tsk.” Malice raises a finger, his long nail a talon stabbing the air. “Didn’t you know? Devils are angels in disguise. It’s the ones in white we need to be careful around.”

Love narrows her eyes. “I’ll show you careful.”

“I certainly hope you will.” Malice hitches a shoulder. “On the other hand, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about being an angel.”

“Guys?” Andrew questions while gazing at the trees.

Wonder hands Malice his leather sweater and jacket. “Get dressed, Demon.”

“Only for you, Wildflower.” Dutifully, he thrusts the first garment over his wavy head. When his face emerges, he waggles his brows at her, making Wonder suppress a grin.

“That goes for you as well,” Anger snaps at Sorrow, sweeping his hand up and down her nakedness. “Do something about this situation.”

“I second the motion,” Envy says.

“Guys?” Andrew repeats, raising his crossbow.

What’s his problem? Sorrow would ask, but the way Envy grimaces at her figure drives a knife through her vision. “Aww, I’m sorry,” she says. “Are you prudes talking to me?”