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Naia mentally braced herself for the worst-case scenario. Her eyes jumped over to her bedside table, seeking something to grab and defend herself with if necessary. If only she had taken a plate of biscuits before bed, she could have used it to smack him with.

Naia laid as stiff as a board, her arms tucked against the sides of her ribcage, waiting to see what Solaris’s next move would be now they were alone.

He collapsed beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight. He stretched his arms up and tucked his palms underneath his head.

“No need to worry, love,” he said, his posh accent curling off his tongue. “I have no intention of forcing myself on you.”

She released the breath clamped in her diaphragm.

Rolling her head on the pillow to look at him, she thought aloud. “Why would they?—”

“Our mothers have come to believe that if we have a child, it will break their curse.”

Naia’s expression fell. “Like a loophole?”

“Precisely. They do not wish to wait until our eight-hundredth year.”

Naia refused to bring a child into the world for nothing more than using them as a tool. She would not subject her own child to what Mira had subjected onto her.

“Absurd.” Naia scowled, pushing her hair off her shoulders. “I would never do such a thing.”

Solaris’s shoulders tugged in a half-hearted shrug. “There is no guarantee it will work, but desperation exists in even High Deities—and worst of all, it fills them with hope.”

Naia peered up at the skylight, following the reflection of the moonlight piercing through the water shimmer on her crystal wall.

Levina and Mira’s impatience didn’t bode well for Naia and Solaris. Especially if they disobeyed their command. Naia, a lesser goddess, was little threat to them. Even Solaris, a middle god, could not stand against their wrath.

Solaris lightly flicked the center of her forehead. “You’re thinking too much, love.”

She rubbed the spot, frowning. “What do we do then?”

“We get some sleep.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, recalling Solaris’s promise of proof.

Letting her head roll sideways to look at him, Naia rested her hands on her stomach. “What is the proof you promised Raksa?”

Solaris studied her face, unsure if she was serious.

Naia blinked at him, waiting.

His mouth opened and then closed.

“What is it?” she pressed.

He sat up. Ran a hand through his hair and averted his eyes from her. “I said that with the assumption you are a virgin.”

Naia sat up as well, nodding, unbothered by the topic. “You are correct.”

Her bluntness evoked wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth from him.

“What?” She laughed softly. “I am.”

Naia saw no reason to get all squeamish about stating a fact.

Solaris said nothing.

“For gods’ sake, Solaris, would you tell me what you are implying?—”