But Ren smiles that beautiful smile, infused with the sun. “I house a new god,” she tells him. “Sa-cha has chosen me. When Kensy broke his shrine, Sa-cha had no home left, not without a host. But he chose me.” Ren takes his godstone into her hand where it still hangs around her neck.
Then, a hand on his shoulder, Ren surges forward and kisses him, desperately, until they’re both breathless. She wipes away the tears that continue to fall from his eyes.
“I remember it now,” she says. “How I died before. When Ithika was killed, my family and I were on a boat. It sank, but the Forest God found me. It was lonely.” Ren presses her hand to his heart again. “It didn’t have its other half, its guardian—the Wolf God. So it saved me.”
Ren takes his hand too, god-marked and all, and presses it to her own heart. He feels it fluttering under his palm, racing in response to his touch. He watches her breathe, listens to her heartbeat, and even still his eyes burn with tears when she looks up at him, alive.
“It saved me so I could house it until it found the Wolf God again,” she says, staring at him so fondly.
Basuin laughs, resting his forehead against hers. And he laughs, and he laughs. And then, he laughs again until Ren wipes those tears away, too.
“Then I am glad,” he tells her, nose bumping hers. “I’m glad that I died to meet you. That I was deified to protect you.”
He breathes in, the scent of her still the same. White lilies and grass and upturned soil. She’s the same. His Ren, more woman than god, with her twilight eyes.
“I am glad, because I can love you,” he says. “I love you, Ren.” And he means it. He means it in the deepest sense, in the forgiving sense, in the sense of gratitude for all the mistakes he’s made and the losses he’s grieved and the pain that clung to him with every step he took here. To Ren.
“Then rebuild with me.” She grins against his mouth. “This is our home.”
“Our home,” he agrees. No longer a soldier, and not quite a man who lived on the outskirts of a village in Ankor. He’ll build a new one, here in the forest, with Ren. A place of peace he’ll carve out for himself with two scarred hands—of wars, and of gods.
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Basuin bounds into the ocean, cool water splashing against his legs as he turns back to smile at Ren. “C’mon,” he says, reaching out a hand to her. “I’ve got you.” Beyond the rolling waves, he can hear Yaelic chasing Qia back toward Gyeosi after he shooed them off to go play with Haaman.
Ren shifts from foot to foot on the pebbled sand, eyes glancing between him and the water. “I trust you,” she says.
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“I trust you!” she repeats herself, louder. “I’m just…”
A breeze blows through the shore, whipping through her hair as much as it musses his. The sun is hot on his bare shoulders, a quick contrast to the cold waters climbing up his legs. Ren is beautiful, even with that look of apprehension she wears. It mars her lips, turns them downward in a frown. He considers kissing it away.
“You don’t need to fear anything,” he tells her. “I’m right here. And I’ll always protect you.”
That brings a smile back to her face and a little light to her eyes. Ren slowly moves toward the water and he strides forward to take her hand. She grips it tight, like a lifeline, teeth biting into her lip in fear.
“Be still,” he says. “Just wait.”
Then, the water rushes up the shore and rolls over their feet. Ren flinches at first, but it draws a laugh from her as the foam bubbles against her skin.
“It’s cold!” she cries, nose scrunched in the way he loves so dearly.
But Ren lets Basuin guide her further into the water, one tiny step at a time, until the water meets her knees. Then, a little further, not far out enough for the waves to crash into her but he blocks her with his body anyway.
“You did it.” Basuin smiles down at her, all fondness and all heart racing because even after all this time, his heart goes off like a wild horse when he’s near her.
“I’m scared,” she admits, squeezing his hands to keep her balance. “The waves might drag me away.”
“Not with me.” Basuin wraps an arm around her and kisses the top of her head. “I’ve got you, Ren.”
Basuin looks out beyond the water, into the horizon where he came from by ship. There’s nothing out there anymore. And no one will come either—he’ll make sure of it. But there’s a certain tug on his heart he feels when he looks out there, where it all began and where it all ended.
“Thank you,” he says, to no one in particular but Ithika. “Be well.”
