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Wren continued darting around, flying through a braided briar of Ronin’s blood and dousing itself. Coated scarlet red, the hairpin flew across the land for Cassian.
Ronin noticed Wren’s tactic and swiped his wrist, commanding the thorns of his briars to elongate further. Their sharp tips were a hairsbreadth from nicking Cassian’s leg before he disappeared out of sight.
Theon extended his arms, manipulating a puddle until it solidified into a thin layer of ice. With a practiced movement of his hands, he raised the thin sheet. Cassian reappeared and Theon took his opportunity, sending the blade of ice across the air.
Cassian threw his palm up, and the ice peppered into hundreds of pieces. He sent them back towards Theon and Ronin. They swiftly dodged by conjuring icy barriers and a gruesome shield of blood.
Naia scanned their surroundings in hopes Finnian would still be around, but was stunned to find Solaris at her side. Tall, as radiant as a High God, peering out at the flames hissing against the turbulence of the sea rocking like a shaken cup.
“Solaris?”
He turned to look at her, brow soft, regarding her with an old adoration. “I will handle our mothers,” he told her. “You get your child back.”
Saving the island was his doing. He’d gone against Mira and Levina for the first time.
She shook her head, shocked and proud all at once, for she’d always known he had such bravery within him. “Why are you…?”
His mouth curved into a half-smile, the gesture broken and reassuring. “Because you’ve sacrificed enough, Naia.”
Sacrifice. The word rang through her bones and snagged in her blood, the revelation slamming straight into her.
A dreadful melancholy sank through her as she looked back at the house holding Avi, Yuki, and Akane. The twenty minutes of the spell containing Cassian were wrapping up.
Naia gave Solaris’s hand a squeeze, her lips wobbling as she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Solaris.”
Solaris studied her face carefully at the sound of sorrowful resonance in her tone.
She dropped her hand to her side and made her way towards Theon.
Don’t you dare do this, Naia. You deserve happiness.
Theon stood a good length away, watching as Ronin continued knitting blood briars. She came to a standstill at Theon’s side. The pure shade of his hair, the skin of his cheeks, the front of his mask was drenched berry red, but he seemed to be collected after whatever pain Cassian had inflicted earlier.
Theon’s gaze never shifted away from Ronin, and she expected nothing less. He seemed to always be watching Ronin with an ingrained motive to protect him.
Naia’s view was filled with the gory, wine-colored streaked yard. The rain had let up. Ronin’s skin had a ghostly pallor, while his forearms stood out with a striking, crimson shade, as if they had been submerged in paint. She was proud of his efforts to continue against a High God. He was wonderfully—stubbornly—resilient.
He must live. With Ash.
“Theon,” she said without looking at him. “Always keep Ash and Ronin safe.”
In her periphery, she saw the god’s head whirl in her direction, eyes scouring the side of her face to try to decipher her statement.
“What are you doing?” His tone was urgent, demanding.
What had Ronin done to instill such unwavering loyalty in Theon? She was still painfully curious about Theon’s life story.
A grin pulled at the corner of her mouth as she gave Theon a sidelong glance. “Tell Ash your story for me, okay?”
“You’re an idiot.” He dropped his chin, angling his face away from her. “I won’t forgive you for this either.”
Naia gave his bicep a lighthearted squeeze, forcing herself to smile through the moisture collecting in her eyes. “You are a kind person. Thank you for looking after me and Ash.”
Theon did not spare her another look, as if he knew.
Drawing in a sharp breath, she straightened her shoulders and started forward.
She held her hand out. “Wren, come.”
