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“Cassian!” Her pulse turned the blood in her neck hot as it climbed to her head. Frustrated towards herself for bringing up the grim subject now. She planned on telling him when they were out of the weird limbo with one another.
“What the fuck about him?” Ronin’s voice matched her own in volume. His brow twitched, and he locked eyes with her, the last of his patience waning.
“He told me of our history. We were one until we parted in the Land of Entity, and since, you’ve succumbed to death over and over to find me!” An unexpected sob escaped through the last of her words. She threw her palm over her mouth to catch it.
Her eyes fell to her lap as she attempted to regain her composure.
Everyone in the room was still, the tension mingling with the bone-chilling air and creating a miserable environment.
A long moment passed before Naia brought her gaze back up to Ronin.
“If you leave, I will follow you.” A dark look passed over his face as he spoke, low and grave. “Do you understand me? You will not do this alone.”
It was a completely different side of him than she was used to seeing. This was Ronin, the leader of the Blood Heretics, domineering and headstrong—and there wasn’t a single part of her that wished to defy him.
Some people only cared until things became difficult, but Ronin Kahale cared too much, too deeply, to let go.
He scraped his chair against the floor, breaking the silence in the room, standing to face the others.
“Make the potion by tonight,” he ordered Avi and Yuki. “She takes however much of it she needs to ensure her survival.” He turned to Theon. “When I am not around, you will stick near her. Your unwavering loyalty to protect me extends to my child and to the woman I love, so for the next nine months, consider yourself her bodyguard if you have no intentions of leaving the island.”
And with that, he stormed out of the room.
31
THE PROMISE
Avi departed with Yuki and Akane for the ingredients.
Ronin busied himself with video calls to Damian and Noah, discussing construction plans on the brewery and temporary distribution arrangements until the warehouse and loading lot were restored.
And, as ordered, Theon stuck near Naia—albeit moodily.
She hid in Ronin’s bedroom to get away from him.
By the early morning hours, Avi and Yuki had returned and concocted the potion. More disgusting than the last one. The only issue was Naia couldn’t hold it down. Each time the mixture touched her tongue, a reflex activated to cleanse everything in her stomach—which, after three vomiting episodes, was nothing.
“Let’s try another way.” Yuki grabbed an empty syringe from the black bag Akane referred to as her doctor bag.
Ronin was next to Naia through it all—pulling back her hair while she hugged the toilet, holding her hand when Yuki stuck her arm with the needle. Ronin and Naia were technically still at odds, but it came as second nature to pause their negative feelings and come together in hard moments.
Several days passed and Naia’s symptoms eased.
Every day, Theon made the journey to Hollow City to check in on the Blood Heretics. Noah and Damian were running operations smoothly. The brewery was being rebuilt thanks to steady funds flowing in from the black market. Naia was pleased to hear Ronin would have a business to return to after the baby was born.
She didn’t dwell on any other future details. Thinking too far into the future caused her to spiral and obsess over ways to break Cassian’s curse.
With unwavering focus, she stared at the mark on her hand, pondering the drastic measure of cutting it off to find out if the curse mark would reappear upon its regeneration.
Like her first curse, she was without luck. In fact, each time she put effort into thinking about it, her mind went frustratingly blank, as if all her knowledge and thoughts had drained away through a secret hole she didn’t know about.
Through the ages, no one had ever defeated Cassian at his own game—except for one.
Finnian.
He had withheld dead souls from Cassian for centuries.
When she lay in bed next to Ronin, she wanted to vent her frustrations and self-doubt and worries in word vomit. Expel some of it from gnawing away at her insides, but it was as if Ronin had a sense for when she was about to speak. And before she could, he’d rise from the bed with an excuse on his lips.
