She pulls back just enough to look at my face, and the satisfaction in her expression is infuriating.
"Look at you," she says, her free hand coming up to trace the neckline of her outfit, drawing my eyes down to her cleavage.
The glittering fabric plunges so low I can see almost everything. The inner curves. The valley between them. The way they rise and fall with her breathing.
"You're staring," she points out, amused.
I tear my eyes away, looking at her face instead. But she just smiles wider.
"Don't be ashamed," she says. "It's natural. You're a healthy young man. And I'm..." She does a little turn, showing off her body. "Well. Look at me."
She's right. And I hate that she's right.
Even knowing what she is. Even after what she just said. Even terrified out of my mind.
My body still wants her.
"See?" she says, pressing close again. Both hands on my chest now, sliding up to my shoulders. "You do like me. Your mind might hate me. But your body..."
One hand moves to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair.
"Your body tells the truth."
She leans in, her lips getting closer to mine. Close enough that I think she's going to kiss me.
And then she's gone.
Vanished.
I stumble forward, the support suddenly gone, nearly falling.
She's back at the wheel now, several feet away, looking absolutely delighted with herself.
"Poor thing," she says, not sounding sorry at all. "All worked up and nowhere to go."
I'm breathing hard, my heart racing, my body still reacting even though she's no longer touching me.
She laughs—high and bright and cruel.
"You know," she says conversationally, as if she didn't just do what she just did, "I even tried to help you in that mine. Did you know that?"
It takes me a moment to process the change in topic. My brain is still catching up.
"What?" I manage.
"The smell," she says, tapping her nose. "The horrible, wrong smell you couldn't shake. The stench of blood and rust and death."
The mine. The smell that got stronger as we went deeper.
"That was me," she says simply. "Controlling your nose. Using what I already took from you to try to warn you."
I stare at her.
"I gave you the clearest warning I could," she continues. "Blood. Death. Danger. I made it reek of wrongness. Made it smell like a fucking slaughterhouse. And you know what you did?"
She grins.
"You just thought it was the mine."
The realization hits me like a physical blow.
She tried to warn me. Using the nose she controls. And I completely missed it.
"I even made it stronger when you got close to her," the goddess continues, clearly enjoying this. "When Renna was about to strike, I flooded your nose with the smell of fresh blood. Human blood. And you still didn't get it."
She bursts out laughing.
"Oh, Kaito. You're wonderfully stupid sometimes. I literally gave you a supernatural warning system and you ignored it because you were too busy looking at her tits."
My face burns. Because she's right. I was looking at Renna. Watching her work. Distracted by her body.
"Don't feel too bad," the goddess says, still grinning. "You're new at this. Maybe you'll learn. Maybe you'll figure out how to use the pieces of yourself that I control."
She turns to the wheel, running her hand along its edge.
"Or maybe you won't," she adds. "Maybe you'll just keep dying in increasingly stupid ways. Either way, I win."
She grabs the wheel with both hands.
"Now then," she says, her voice taking on that theatrical quality again. "Let's see what you lose this time, shall we?"
She pulls the wheel down hard.
It spins. Fast. The segments blur together into a rainbow of question marks. The clicking fills the air—tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—rhythmic and hypnotic.
I watch, my stomach tight with dread.
My nose is already hers. What else will she take?
My eyes? I won't be able to see dangers coming.
My ears? I won't hear threats approaching.
My hands? I won't be able to fight or defend myself.
My mouth? I won't be able to eat or speak.
The wheel begins to slow.
Tick... tick... tick...
The goddess leans forward, watching with exaggerated anticipation. Her breasts strain against the glittering top, threatening to spill out.
Tick... tick...
"Come on," she sing-songs. "Show me something good."
Tick...
The wheel stops.
A red question mark at the top. Bright crimson against the golden frame.
"Ooh! Red!" The goddess claps her hands together like a child on Christmas morning.
She reaches up and peels away the question mark, revealing the symbol underneath.
A leg.