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“What the fuck is going on?” Theon stormed over to Naia, his footfalls stopping behind her.

They deserved an explanation. She simply couldn’t give them one right now.

“Theon,” Ronin cut in. “Give her a?—”

“You almost died! I want to know how. Lady Ruelle has always protected you!”

Ronin ignored him and kneeled beside Naia. With a gentle, trembling touch, he tucked a piece of her blood-crusted hair behind her ear. “Naia,” he whispered.

Naia shivered. He deserved an explanation, but she didn’t know how to work up the words without bursting into tears. He didn’t know what to say, either. She could feel it in the way he stared down at her curse-marked hand, mouth opening and closing in silence. How much had he heard?

“Theon, take Avi back and make sure everyone is okay. Please,” Ronin ordered again.

This time, Theon did not dispute. A sound like mud being vacuumed hissed in the air as they disappeared.

Naia glared down at the curse mark through her tears.

Everything was all wrong. She had happiness gripped by its collar, believing she could overcome anything—even marrying Solaris and sacrificing her freedom. Ronin made her a promise. No matter what or where, he would find her and bring her back to him.

But this?

Naia pressed her palm into the softness of her belly where?—

She ripped the other glove off her hand and stood up. Ronin stood with her. It was still the middle of the night. Nobody was around besides them.

She marched to the edge of the dock leading onto a secluded beach.

“God of Death and Curses!” she shouted. “Come to me!”

She whipped her head around to search for him, the edges of her vision wilted red. Silhouettes of swaying limbs of trees rustled along the sand.

“Naia!” Ronin jogged to keep up with her. “What are you doing?”

“I need answers.” She charged through the sand, her fury palpable in every stride.

“Naia.” Ronin reached out his arm, and the tips of his fingers brushed her sleeve before dropping his hand, as if he remembered all the times she’d flinched when being touched.

She wanted to assure him he would not startle her; that she’d grown to welcome his skin on hers, crave it even. But she was too distraught to speak with such tenderness.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded softly.

Naia roared the High God’s name.

She would not stop until the bastard showed.

Her feet dug in the sand, waiting with chattering teeth.

A long second passed and her muscles tensed.

“Cassian, come to?—”

“You seem agitated, Little Goddess.” His voice appeared behind her, as smooth as a shot of whiskey.

Ronin fell unconscious and crumpled to the ground before he could spin and raise his arms in defense.

“Ronin!” Naia started towards him, twisting her head towards the god. “How dare you!”

He rolled his shoulders. “Let’s call it a security measure.”