Chapter 4
MADNESS
“Madness, what the fuck!” Miz yelled the next day when I used my thumb to imprint the shape of a heart in blood on Cat’s chest. So she’d remember she was loved. Obviously.
“What?” I blinked up at Miz as he ripped me away and frowned at the pretty swirling writing on my arm. It said Lioness, because duh. “I thought it might help.”
“You wrote her name on your arm; are you fucking insane?” he snapped, gripping my elbow tightly.
“Oh yeah, big time.” I nodded. “Comes with the job title.”
His jaw clenched, and it seemed to take him effort to release me.
I didn’t mind. I wasn’t going to fight him, even if he needed to fight someone.
Tor would usually help. Miz was probably as scared about Torment as he was worried about Cat, and fighting wouldn’t make him feel better. I had a better idea.
“It’ll be okay,” I said and stood, wrangling the snarling god into my arms for a bear hug, rocking him from side to side, patting his long white hair. “It’ll be okay.”
He was stiff in my arms, but I knew I helped. Hugs literally always helped. I smooched his cheek before I stepped back, peering into Cat’s face again for signs of life.
“Did I say you could touch me?” Misery hissed, low and furious.
“We’re brother-husbands, of course I can touch you.” I glanced up at him. “And you can touch me, too.”
“Thanks,” he drawled.
“Not in a sexy way. I’m my lioness’s and only hers. Just so we’re clear.”
“I’m devastated.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry to break your heart. I know it’ll take time to recover.”
“Eons.” He muscled me aside. “Now move, or better yet, go outside and get Pain and Death.”
“Do you know how to help our girl?” I asked hopefully, glancing from the trunk full of magical objects and death relics to my beautiful wife.
I would give anything to watch her eyes focus on me, to see her smile, to hear the laugh that lit up my whole chest like a firework. Ooh, maybe fireworks would—
“There’s something we can try, but we’re going to need Pain.”
I brought Cat’s hand to my lips for a lingering kiss and aimed for the door. “I’ll bring your husbands to you,” I told my lioness. “Be awake when I get back, okay?”
I didn’t care that I was asking for too much, that it was unrealistic. To hope was to be utterly insane, and I’d always excelled at that.