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“Therefore, no,” Cassian finished. “You will not see them again until their souls enter the afterlife.”

A lump swelled in her throat. She ground her teeth, swallowing her tears. “Will you grant me death when the time comes?”

Cassian continued walking.

She matched his pace.

A guttural feeling told her his lack of response meant he would. Despite his title and reputation, Cassian was not wicked, as many believed. He did not find satisfaction in making others suffer. If it were the case, he would’ve fought back during their fight.

Naia and Cassian emerged under a brooding sky and ancient wisteria blossoms showering down, delicately brushing their shoulders as they walked.

“I expected dead trees and a red-soaked land,” Naia confessed.

Cassian regarded her with a sidelong glance. “My realm is not made up of decaying wasteland and morbid rays of light.”

“Clearly.”

The stone wall stood taller than the trees, obscuring the view from within its jaws. Carved with colossal statues resembling beastly gods, rumored to be from the Great Deity War who had stood against Cassian for his title as the ruler of the Land of the Dead.

Her eyes followed the stone pathway winding around the wisterias up the stairs leading to the iron doors in the middle of the wall.

A gate. To his land.

Resistance burdened her ankles, as if weighed down by anchors.

Do not enter, do not enter.

A white-hot panic spun her head, causing her to pause involuntarily.

For Ronin and Ash. You must.

“Come along, Little Goddess,” Cassian rumbled, like a low warning of a lion. In no mood for disobedience.

You will be reunited with Father.

Naia moved one foot in front of the other.

Breathe.

A silhouette of a figure stood atop the stairs, its presence masked by the shadows of the swaying wisteria and the looming wall.

Cassian came to a sudden stop. Naia stood at his side, peering closer at the tall stranger.

“Your confidence has transformed into complete ignorance,” Cassian said in a cynical tone. “Or have you entered my realm to give back the object you stole?”

The figure descended the stairs with the grace of a feline.

Naia’s breath caught in her throat. An inferno of rage lit in her chest and burned down her arms. Quickly swallowed away by her astonishment as she peered ahead at her little brother.

Finnian stood in the middle of their path.

“Lord Cassian,” he addressed in a civilized tone.

Naia had every right to go knock him in the face after stealing Ash’s blood, but his unexpected courteous attitude struck her. Something entirely uncharacteristic of him—especially towards Cassian.

Cassian stared at Finnian, and Finnian stared back. The animosity between them stiffened the air.

“I have come to you with a proposition,” Finnian said with an unmatched stoicism. “As my sister has already broken her curse by handing over her freedom, I am here to exchange my freedom for hers.”