Page 193

He did, but what about their child?

After Ash’s first birthday, he began walking, and his fragility was evident in the way he skinned his knees on the rough concrete and the sound of his cries after each stumble.

“When he grows older, you can present him with the option,” Ronin suggested. “If he wishes to be immortal, you can grant it to him.”

The Council won’t approve, was Naia’s quarrel, but she didn’t dare speak it aloud. Fearful if she did, they would finally summon her forward for a discussion.

She could sense them watching her closely, waiting to see how she’d choose to wield her ability. With the power to grant eternal life, mortals would worship her endlessly. To some deities, another outshining them was considered a threat.

Not only that, but it was highly improbable the Council would allow Naia to bestow immortality upon her son—a demigod from the Himura clan.

If Ash desired such a thing, she’d deal with it when the time came.

For now, she wanted to just… be.

“My, miss, I can’t believe you’ve put up with him for a full year now,” Ms. Maeve gestured down to the black band, studded with a single ruby on Naia’s ring finger. “You know, I never thought this one would ever settle down and get married. Well, with his reputation as the Witch Lord running this city and all, but I suppose I was wrong.”

“Some would call that judging a book by its cover, Ms. Maeve.” Ronin tapped his debit card impatiently on the granite surface of the counter.

Ms. Maeve stood on the other side of the cash register with an assortment of dishes floating behind her—dirty ones entering the kitchen, and others with meals and pastries to their designated tables. The coffee shop was busier than most days, given it was a weekend and the autumn solstice.

Ms. Maeve winked at Naia. “Or being observant.”

Ronin’s eyebrow twitched and Naia grinned.

“A full year…” she mused. “It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long.”

“This interaction feels longer,” Ronin mumbled.

Ms. Maeve rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. Now, come on, what can I get for you two? Your usuals?”

Ronin rubbed a tired hand across his face. “Yes, please.” He’d placed his order several times in between Ms. Maeve’s babbling.

“I think I want to try something new.” Naia read through the seasonal flavors posted on the chalkboard. The chilly temperature and the copper shades of foliage outside had inspired her.

She beamed. “How about a Bonfire Ash latte?”

Ronin’s eyes slightly widened, and he shook his head discreetly, insinuating it was an awful choice.

Naia’s gaze shifted between him and Ms. Maeve’s perfectly arched eyebrow and her stare pinning Ronin. “Boy, what is wrong with my latte?”

“It tastes like soot.” He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the board. “It’s even in the name.”

They bickered, but Naia wasn’t listening.

The morning sunlight filtered through the windowpanes, pouring maple rays across the hardwood floor. A broom swept past her. Two younger girls were waiting in line, talking amongst themselves. A man sat by the window, reading on his tablet, rotating his wrist as his spoon stirred his tea. Naia recognized him as the regular who always sat in the same seat at this time of day.

It was all a privilege, the last year of her life—idyllic and peaceful. Coffee on an autumn morning. Their son at the brewery, undoubtedly wreaking havoc in Avi’s potion room with Theon in the corner, smirking in secret under his mask.

Monarch butterflies flitted above, adhering to the blossomed milkweed woven in the metal rafters.

Naia reached up into her hair and pulled Wren free. Her silver strands fell in waves down her back.

“Go,” she whispered. “Be free.”

Wren awoke in her palm, stretching its wings up and down before fluttering in the air.

Find peace. She smiled through the tears pricking in her eyes as she watched her hairpin’s golden wings mixed with the canvas of Monarch butterflies painting the ceiling.