Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“Yes, well, the reality is that you can’t save everyone.”
I huff at that. “I’ve never said I want to save everyone. I want them to be able to save themselves.”
“In the end, we can’t save anyone.”
His tone is so morose and bleak that it stops me in my tracks. I stare at his back, and it takes Kalos a moment to realize I’m no longer walking at his side. He turns in the road, clothes ruffling in the wind, and his eyes look so damn tired.
“That’s Apathy talking,” I tell him.
A sad smile curves his mouth. “Is it? Or is it just the truth learned after millennia of experience? You think I’ve never tried to save anyone in the past? I do what I can, but it’s never enough. It wears you down.”
It’s definitely Apathy talking, but as I study his sad face, I also realize something. He doesn’t enjoy what he does. It must be hard to be the god of disease. It hardens your heart right away or it’ll crush you. Kalos isn’t inherently a bad person, I’m realizing once again. He’s just been beat down by the weight of his role. It’s made him selfish and insular, but can I really blame him? Even the other gods don’t want anything to do with him. What a miserable, lonely existence.
I hurt so much for him. No one’s ever tried to even understand them, have they?
I march up to his side, and before he can turn and start walking again, I grab his hand and stop him. I close the distance between us and kiss him, pressing my mouth to his as if a temporary, sweet distraction like a kiss can make up for eons of misery.
He cups my face, dropping Dingle’s lead, and melds his lips to mine. It’s a kiss full of yearning and sweetness, and he smells like fresh air and a bit like goat, but I don’t mind it. It just reminds me of how much he adores the animals, and how kind and affectionate he is to them. He’s a man of many facets, and I’m finding myself in love with all of them.
“My sweet Elsie,” he whispers against my mouth, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “I don’t care if you save everyone. It’s who you are. But I wish you could save me.”
A pang of guilt hits me. I wish I could be everything he needs. Not because I can fix him, but because I want to stay at his side and keep him company when he’s feeling low, just to remind him that he’s not alone. But…I’m a temporary solution. “I’m here right now,” I tell him. “And I want to touch you.”
A little chuckle escapes him. “Right here in the road?”
I laugh at that. “No, not right here. But back at the monastery. The moment we get a moment alone.”
He grins at me, and his beautiful green eyes are sparkling with amusement. I take his hand, and we walk a little faster down the road. And then a little bit faster. And then we’re jogging and laughing, and Dingle thinks it’s all a fun game as we sprint down the muddy, well-traveled road back toward the distant monastery, laughing and carefree, a goat at our heels.
This might be the best day I’ve had in a long, long time. I feel so lucky. So happy. So full of joy. I’m overflowing with it.
Omos is out with the beehives when we get to the monastery. He waves at us from a distance but doesn’t come in to greet us. He probably thinks we’re going to be all over each other again…and he’d be right.
“Go inside and I’ll release Dingle with the other goats,” Kalos tells me.
“Don’t take too long.” I mean to say it cheerfully, but it comes out throaty and full of need, and he groans, giving me another kiss before he pushes himself away.
I race inside and return my book to the worktable, then pour some water from a pitcher so I can wash my hands and face. I don’t want to smell like the village when I go down on him, and at the last moment, I chew a sprig of mint to freshen my breath.
He comes inside a moment later and moves to my side, his hands going to my waist. Kalos kisses my neck, his touch soft and sweet. I take his hands in mine and wash them for him, until neither of us smells like goat any longer. When I’m satisfied, I turn around and kiss him hard, pushing him towards the bed. We stumble to it, and I tear at his shirt, eager to get him naked.
Kalos chuckles at my enthusiasm for undressing him. He lies back with his arms up as I tug the shirt over his head. “Such eagerness. I should be a sadsack more often.”