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“Okay,” the sound of her tearful voice bounced off the glass walls of the shower.

“Naia.” He fused his forehead to hers. “We will figure it out.”

The ache she had been suppressing burst behind her sternum. She curled herself into his chest and wept, letting her darkness show.

Naia woke to a scent threaded in the sheets she recognized—lingering traces of sage and jasmine and something else, smokey and like paper. It prompted her to run her hands over the bed, trying to locate Ronin.

He was gone.

She cracked open her eyes.

The morning sunlight filtered across his childhood room. Hanging on the wall in front of her were hand-drawn sketches, their pages slightly bent and warped at the corners. Portraits and landscapes and the sea. One caught her eye of a view she’d seen countless times standing on one of the highest peaks on the island. Though, back then it was with Kaleo at her side, hand in hand as he pointed with the burning sunset melting down the horizon.

The thought of Kaleo only reminded her of Cassian’s words and how Ronin’s soul ceaselessly wandered the world to find her own. She planted one of her hands on her chest, hoping it would ease her heartache. Ronin, Kaleo, no matter his name, he was her other half. Beneath his skin, flesh and bones, he was hers, as much as she was his.

She sat up on the mattress and found Ronin on the foot of the bed, his eyes locked on his fuzzy, bright pink slippers, lost in thought.

They didn’t speak much last night after getting out of the shower. He’d led her from the bathroom, the cool tiles giving way to the soft carpet of his room, and gently guided her into the comfort of his bed. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Ronin suggested a spell to help silence her mind. Only after her eyelids grew heavy and drowsiness settled in did she realize he hadn’t taken his sleep tonic.

Naia analyzed the side of his profile, but his hair was down, making it difficult to get a clean view of his face.

“Ronin,” she said.

He slightly angled his body towards her, his gaze cast downward.

A wave of silence passed.

In the time she’d gotten to know him, he wasn’t chatty in the mornings, but this felt different.

His silence hung thick in the air, filled with tension.

Should she try to fill it? What could she possibly say to make things better? There was much to discuss between them, and the mere thought of picking a place to start had her jaw locking and her brain ticking with an overwhelming rush of nerves.

Ronin let out a breath. “Take it slow this morning. I’m going to make breakfast and a few calls.”

She registered the short, exasperated tone in his voice, but before she could address it, he gave her a light peck on the top of her head and left the room.

Naia stayed in bed, unwilling to get up and face everyone.

Their voices traveled from the kitchen. As well as the sweet, fruity aroma of the breakfast Ronin prepared. The scent of warm dough wafted under the bedroom door, and it was almost enough to convince her to swallow her pride and rise from the mattress.

Truthfully, she wasn’t ready to face the others’ potential hostility towards her after everything that had happened. Theon made it clear he blamed her. Not to mention Akane and Yuki, with their family history involving deities. And, worst of all, members of the Blood Heretics had lost their lives.

Violet. Sweet, vivacious Violet, who had been one of the first people to make her feel included, was dead.

Naia brought the blanket up to her chin and took in Ronin’s room. It wasn’t colorful, by any means, like the rest of the house filled with mismatched furniture and pastel tones, but it held more of a personality to it than his apartment did. The charcoal drawings pinned everywhere gave her a better insight into his abilities. Pens, paintbrushes, and palettes were well-arranged on the desk in the corner.

A knock sounded on the door.

Naia propped herself against the headboard with the blankets draped over her legs. “Come in.”

Akane slipped into the room, her dark hair braided down her small shoulders, and wearing a blue overall dress.

A pink beaded bracelet slid down her wrist as she lifted her arm, holding a triangle-shaped pastry in her hand. “I snuck something for you.”

Through difficult moments in Naia’s life, eating was not something she found to be enjoyable, but she couldn’t find it in herself to reject Akane’s kind gesture.

She accepted the pastry. “How did you know I enjoy sweets?”