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She arched her spine to grant him better access. “Among other things.”

He swirled his tongue, his lips grazing behind the movement. “Like?”

She treaded carefully with her feelings to place them into words. “I think you are bold and clever…”

He scattered bruising kisses down her torso, hovering right above the button of her jeans. Tension coiled between her legs. “And?”

“Kind and compassionate…” Her fingers tangled in his hair, fisting the strands by the roots. “A little too nonchalant for your own good.”

The reverberation of his chuckle sent a satisfying shiver through her bones.

Unhurriedly, he undid the button of her jeans. Her pulse quickened, matching the tempo of her mounting anticipation.

She peered up at the blue-tinted lights swirling across the ceiling with a haunting thought. “Ronin.”

“Hm?” He worked her jeans over her hips and down her thighs.

“You’ve spent years of your life drawn to me because I saved you,” she said. “A kind gesture is not worthy of your praise.”

Maybe it was in her to sabotage good things before they got better. A sick form of her subconscious acting to protect her from further suffering.

Ronin’s movements froze.

Naia dropped her eyes to look at him.

His parted lips were pink and swollen, and his gaze was feral as he stared at her. “You think my adoration for you stems from the sole fact that you saved my life?”

She gave a small nod.

“Let me be clear in my feelings for you, Naia.” One of his fingers curled underneath the waistband of her underwear. The muscles in her abdomen quivered in response.

“You saved me from drowning, yeah, but I could see you were someone as lonely and miserable as I was. Soft and gentle on the outside, but you had a fierceness in your eyes.” He slid his hand under the crook of her knee, bending her leg. “The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but you carried a shadow in your divinity.” He kissed the inside of her thigh, and her stomach liquified, dripping like honey between her legs. “Demons that weighed you down.”

“And you wanted to be the one to cast light upon that shadow?” she challenged, leveling him with a look. “To fix me.”

He smirked. “You have it all wrong, babe.”

Her heart skipped hearing him refer to her as something other than her name.

Ronin worked her underwear over her hips.

“What then?” she asked, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat, feeling the burning heat in her cheeks as his mouth floated over the exposed flesh between her legs. Goosebumps budded across the skin of her thighs.

Ronin’s eyes flashed up to her. “I wanted to destroy all those who threw you into your darkness.”

Before she could reply, he lowered his mouth onto her.

Naia rolled her lips together, tempted to sip on the beer in front of her. She crossed her legs under the table, and then uncrossed them. Her shoulder grazed Ronin’s, prompting him to glance over at her.

“Put your glamor up,” he whispered.

She swept her eyes around the room, not sure what made him suggest it.

The bar they were in was in the midst of several dark alleyways, down a steep set of stairs, and through a magical portal in the form of a dead-end stone wall, adjacent to a donut shop Naia had begged Ronin to take her to. The only response he gave was an eye roll and a slight jump to his lips, indicating he would on a different day.

The portal had spit them out into what appeared to be another strip of the city. Blinding neon lights and narrow cemented pathways between tall buildings. It wasn’t until Naia talked Ronin’s ear off with theories did he confess he’d taken her to Bogart Strip—a place only witches ventured to in the city. The establishments were a secret kept tightly from the humans.

When Naia had asked why, Ronin did not elaborate outside of, “The black market.”