Wild ​Reverence

by Rebecca Ross

A god whose heart was rumored to be hard and unyielding as quartzite, who was the goddess of death’s only son, and who raked in souls by the hundredfold without remorse.

“You know this as well as I do—I vowed to be childless unless they can be made in love. And I would rather be feared than ever be loved.”

War only makes love flame brighter, defiant.

needed an ally of my own, and I could not afford to be soft.

She would be the first mortal to become goddess if I could locate Rowena.

that he does love her. He does not want to control her.”

said her name, over and over, until sunrise melted the last shadow in the room.

“You are fortunate that your magic is so humble that I do not want it. That I have spared you.”

You lead, I will follow.”

gave you Vincent,

A taunting promise of the unknown. I reached the threshold, that heady place of in-between. A space that swarms with both magic and the mundane.

My heart ached, and the words nearly spilled from me.

“Let me be at your side. Not only as a goddess, but as your wife.”

“I think,” Vincent began, a waver in his voice, “the most difficult part will be touching.”

“You are touching me now.”

“Only because I am trying to remember the...

I was quiet, but his hand squeezed mine.

How his breathing soon shifted, betraying his exhaustion. How swiftly he fell asleep in my presence, as if his worries and fears ebbed when I was close.

And I do not understand why you must eat the prayers. Of all things.”

“Because they are now a part of me as they were once a part of you,”

“No. You will not bleed for me again.”

I had forgotten how rumors grew wings and flew through the courts like Fate’s owls.

I stared up at the sky, naming the constellations, until I found hers—a bright six points. Herald of the gods. A kestrel in flight. I willed those stars to burn always, because I could not bear to imagine them ever going dark.

“May I write to you while you are away?” I asked. “As soon as you leave, I am certain there is something I will think of that I will need to tell you.”

“You know how to reach me?”

“If you are below, bury my words. If you are above, I should burn them. To be safe, I should do both at once, because I can...

“Yes,” she said. “I would welcome any wo...

My fury was a sudden, terrible thing, clawing through my chest.

“Who?” I asked. “Red, who hurt you?”

“If friendship is what you want, then I can give that to you,” I said, but the words scraped through me, dragging across my bones. “Simply tell me what you want of me.”

“You said in your letter that there was a moment when you knew.” She paused, but her eyes were warm as summer earth. “You said there came a moment when you looked at me and could not breathe. When was it?”

“The morning after we camped in the meadow,” I said. “I stood with you at the wayside and asked you to return to Wyndrift. I did not want to let you go. I did not want us to separate, but you were the only one I trusted to aid my brother. One moment, you were there before me. The next, the wind had carried you away. And I missed you as if a part of me had been torn. I would have done anything to follow

“It was when I woke in your bed. You were sitting at your desk, writing. It was the first time I had ever felt safe, sleeping close to someone. It made me want to relive such a quiet moment, again and again. To sleep, to wake, to open my eyes and see you there. Every morning.”

“I cannot pretend with you any longer,” she said. “I love you. I have loved you for a long time.”

But then I realized I wanted her to see me bare. I was weak for her alone, and I wanted her to know it. I did not want to keep anything from her.

We were doomed, she and I. One day, I would perish, and she would live on, endless as the stars. But if we were doomed, then let us fully embrace it.

It could have been an hour or mere moments. Time melted between us as we explored each other, our mouths meeting again and again.

The winters would leave their mark upon me, year after year, and one day I would die and Matilda would lock my body in a tomb. But until that morning came, I would spend my hours worshipping her, learning what she liked, what she loved, what she needed.

My hands traced her scars, feeling them as if they were on my own skin. Tears stung my eyes. I would have taken every single lash for her.

He smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. I loved the sight of them, these lines made by years and age and expressions. I loved the shine that I saw in his depths, as if his heart had kindled, and he could not contain the light in his bones.

“This will break us both in the end,” I said. “It will break me, to live on when you have breathed your last. To visit the river, years from now, and see you in every current, in every rainfall, only to remember that you are gone.”

“But until then, let us feast and dance and sleep in each other’s arms. I am yours, Red. I will always be yours. Not even Death can change that.”

Let me live in this moment, I thought. Dawn would never break the darkness. The fire would never burn to ashes. It would always be autumn, and the stars would never dim; the moon would never wane or wax.

a story that never ended.