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Love. Happiness. Marriage. Family.

Tears nipped at the corner of her eyes as she smiled. “I can’t wait.”

He kissed away the tears sneaking down her cheeks and sealed his promise with a slow push inside of her.

She didn’t tell him he had already shown her. He’d given her more love and light in mere weeks than she’d ever had the privilege of experiencing in her centuries.

Now, she understood the passion and pain of what it felt like to love another, willing to do anything in the world if it meant keeping them safe.

Naia knew then what needed to be done and considered her promise already broken.

32

FINNY

The caldron looked seconds from bubbling over. Steam fogged the glass ceiling, raising the temperature in the small room to a hot spring. Jars floated across the air from the rows of shelves along the back wall.

“You want me to find a spell strong enough to trap a High God?” Avi scratched at his chin, peering across the room to a small bookcase. He stalked over and scanned the spines.

Naia held her mug of decaf coffee to her chest. “Is it something you can pull off?”

“Of course,” Avi returned, holding a small leatherbound journal. “Thank fuck for fireproof safes. I have plenty of perimeter spells. If I tweak one a bit, I think it will work.”

Theon held a jar of white stones as he read from a floating grimoire. He shook his head, puzzled. “This recipe isn’t specific.”

Avi turned and stretched to see the grimoire more clearly. He pointed at the page. “Right there. Toss three in.”

Naia glanced up at the bundles of rosemary and sage hanging above them. To be honest, the place looked livelier since he’d taken over Yuki’s potion room. The jars were all stocked with ingredients. The herbs and plants along the walls weren’t overgrown anymore, and there was something satisfying with all the full vials of miscellaneous potions placed in an organized row along the shelves.

Ronin sat on a stool near the workbench, showing no interest in the conversation whatsoever. Too busy pointing out something on the page to Theon, and judging by the mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it was not with good intentions.

Avi returned his attention to Naia, mid-sip of her coffee. “Which High God am I trapping?” he asked.

She made a face from the bitter taste. “The High God of Death and Curses.”

“Told you it needed more sugar for you to like it,” Ronin mumbled and poured a jar of bat blood into the caldron.

Theon looked up from the grimoire simultaneously, his big, round eyes constricting around her. “You can’t be serious?”

“It wouldn’t need to be permanent,” Naia defended. “Maybe twenty-thirty minutes, tops.”

“And in the meantime,” Theon drawled through his mask, “what is your big plan to break the curse?”

Naia cast her gaze onto Ronin.

Avi and Theon swiveled to find him dropping a small animal skull in the cauldron’s contents. The mixture oozed black, tar-like foam down the sides.

“For fuck’s sake!” Avi startled, his hand coming up to command more jars off the shelves. “How many times have I told you not to touch my potions?”

Ronin chuckled, raising his arms in mock surrender. “I was only trying to help.”

Avi lightly shoved Ronin away from the caldron. “Go over there.”

Theon flashed his gaze between Ronin and Naia, his left eyebrow twitching. “How do you plan to break the curse?” he repeated.

Ronin sighed, dropping his arms. “You wear that mask because your face is a perpetual serious expression, isn’t it?”

“Do not play games with me.” Theon glared at Ronin.