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“Of course. I want to know everything about your ancestors’ history,” she told him.

His chin settled in the crevice of her neck and shoulder. “It’s all in the past, babe.”

“Ronin Himura,” Naia tested the name on her tongue. “Ash Himura.”

His lips brushed the side of her cheek. “Naia Himura.”

She shivered, leaning back snug into his chest. “I have never had a last name before.”

Ronin’s gruff chuckle vibrated against her ribcage. “You already have all of me, Naia. Including my last name.” His palm smoothed over her stomach, possessively splicing his fingers over the shell of their child. “And when we make it back to Hollow City, I’ll make it official.”

Under the luminous gaze of a full moon, the midnight hour was unusually frigid. A dry chill the winter solstice rarely delivered to Nohealani Island.

Naia hooked the crook of her elbow in between Ronin’s crossed arms and rested a bit of her weight onto him, desperate to relieve the throbbing in her ankles. Ronin’s bicep strained against her forearm; his eyes locked on the silhouette of the tree line.

Finnian emerged from its shadows. His long onyx-colored strands glistened under the lamplight like the feathers of a crow. Naia noted his crooked tie under his gray dress vest, and the flecks of red staining the breast pocket. It brought her comfort to see some things about him had not changed.

A comfort that quickly froze and grew uneasy with her pulse skipping, because Finnian was finally in front of her. The weeks leading up to their meeting, she’d chewed the inside of her cheek to shreds, obsessing over Finnian’s findings. To occupy her mind, she’d relived old memories. Meticulously sorting through past rumors and fragments of discussions she had caught wind of regarding Cassian. Anything that could be of use or jar her mind. Efforts that only resulted in more dead ends.

Finnian gave her a once over with his bright green eyes, idling on the bump of her belly, the size of a medium pumpkin. “May I?”

Ronin tensed beside her.

She observed Finnian closely, noticing his genuine curiosity brimming over the mortal life growing inside of her.

“Family means something to me.” She lifted her chin, squaring him with a look. “Does it still mean anything to you?”

Finnian’s eyes found hers. “With you, it does.”

He was many things, but he would not speak words he did not mean.

“By extension, that includes Ronin and Ash,” Naia said.

Finnian blinked. “Ash?”

Naia exchanged a glance with Ronin that told him everything would be okay before she stepped over the invisible boundary line. He strode behind her as she made her way to Finnian.

Naia removed her hand from her belly as an invitation, smiling at her little brother. “Ash Vale is his name.”

Finnian’s outstretched hand hesitated, fingers trembling.

“Your touch will not corrupt me or him, Finny.” She huffed and grabbed onto him since he took his sweet time, leaning into his grip.

He supported her as she shifted her weight onto one leg, giving her swollen ankles another rush of relief. She let out a long exhale.

“Would you like for me to hold you the way you used to hold me when we were children?” There was a mischief in his tone she hadn’t heard in ages.

She shot him a look. “It’s the least you could do for what you did to me at Alke Hall.”

In a fluid motion, Finnian strapped an arm around her back and scooped her feet off the ground.

She fastened her arms around his neck. “Finny!”

He laughed. “You weigh as much as Aunt Thea!”

Their aunt was a middle goddess of the sea who lived in a secluded lair made of sea stacks in the eastern land and feasted on any mortals that ventured in her territory.

“You are incredibly insensitive to talk to a pregnant goddess that way.” She lightly nipped at a strand of hair dangling in his face, giggling. “Aunt Thea is a beast who swallows ships.”