She leapt forward on her feet and materialized in a white-jasmine wisp, crashing into him. “I made it to you, Finny!”
He laughed as tears snuck down the crevices of his nose, embracing her with the strength of a god and straining her bones.
She was a cloud of espresso and white sage and a floral garden; of city air and frequent visits to the local bakery on 10th Street; fruity and pungent like the inside of Ronin’s brewery.
“I missed you so much,” she sniveled into his shoulder.
Finnian held her between his knees, her hair sticking to his damp face. “I missed you so much more.”
33
DEATH IS LOVE
“Are you okay?”Naia pulled away and ran her fingers over the dried blood of his neck to inspect for any wounds that hadn’t healed. “Gods, Finny, I missed you. I have much to tell you.”
An effusion of warmth consumed him from the sound of her voice. “I am fine,” he assured her. “How did you know to bring the Council?”
“Alke. He journeyed to Hollow City and informed me of the situation. I ascended onto the Council a few hours ago—thanks to all the efforts ofyourorganizations…” She gave him a pointed look. “When I arrived, I told Iliana everything. She was baffled that you did not shed a breath of it to her,” she said to Cassian.
Finnian pursed his lips, grateful for his bird’s undying devotion.
He shook his head, giving Cassian an inquisitive look. “How did Ruelle not foresee the Council’s involvement then?”
“I considered involving Iliana and the Council many times, but Ruelle had both of our threads under a microscope. Any case I tried to make against her, she always foresaw it, and was able to falsely prove me wrong,” Cassian explained, his hand never leaving Finnian’s back. “However, I doubt she would’vebeen keeping a close eye on Naia’s Fate, with her being a High Goddess now.”
Naia’s brow fell as her fingertips glided along the inky swirl of the curse mark over Finnian’s Adam’s apple.
She blinked through the tears gathering in her eyes. “You fool,” she whispered.
Cassian frowned, watching the places her fingers traced.
Finnian didn’t wish to think about the curse right now. He would deal with it later—figure out a spell to cast on himself to slow its tendrils, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the moment. Ruelle had been defeated, and Naia was there, right in front of him.
Finnian lightly took her hand and lowered it from his neck. He dipped his chin to latch onto her gaze. “I see the winter god has taught you quite a bit since I’ve been away.”
The color of her wisps was radiant, like a pearl cut from the finest stone, beautiful and bright just like her.
“Theon is an excellent teacher.” She gave a lousy smile as she wiped at the fat droplets rolling down her cheeks. “I was teleporting around Hollow City in less than a month after your departure.”
Finnian grinned at the image. “And what of my nephew?”
A small, pitiful laugh slipped out through her sniffles. She placed her other hand over the back of his and squeezed. “He is absolutely dying to meet his uncle.”
Finnian had envisioned the moment many times. Prior to regaining his memories, he’d often imagined it while he was in his cell, trapped in Moros—after he’d rescued Father and escaped. He would daydream of escorting Father to Hollow City, standing on the roof of his favorite skyscraper with Naia, Ronin, and Ash. Some semblance of being a family, a true one, without Mira’s bullshit and the triplets and Marina.
Father will never get to see Hollow City.
Finnian’s heart grew heavy, like a stone caught in his chest.
“Naia.” He averted his eyes down to their joined hands. His throat tightened. “Father is?—”
An itch thrummed like an insect buzzing in his brain.
Father will never meet Ronin.
Cassian’s hand smoothed up his back and lightly gripped his shoulder. “Vale has passed,” he finished.
Father will never meet Ash.
