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Fear filled me. “And what will you do then?”

“I’ve got this, Jaz. He isn’t the first feral I’ve faced off with.”

He’d said something like that earlier. I didn’t care. Why the hell did Agatheena insist on Ren doing this? “You shouldn’t even be doing it in the first place. This is my thing; it has nothing to do with you. That crone is just using this whole situation to her own advantage.”

“That’s what she does. She’s a female, alone, and she wouldn’t have always been that powerful or that jaded. She’s the way she is because life hasn’t been easy. She doesn’t ask for help because she probably doesn’t think anyone will help. So she does deals. Barters for what she needs.”

I huffed out a breath. “Well, now I feel like an asshole.”

He chuckled. “You’re not an asshole. You worry, that’s your thing. But you don’t need to worry about me.”

I leaned in and started on the next sigil. “I'll never forgive myself or her if you get hurt because of this, because of me.”

“Jaz—”

“You don't have to do it, you know. It’s too much. I feel terrible.” I had to find those souls, but not at Ren’s expense. He didn’t answer. He’d gone utterly still. I looked down and watched as my thumb stroked his skin. I realized I’d done it several times. I quickly got back to tattooing.

He cleared his throat, and his voice grew deeper. “You need the information, and this is how we get it. With all that you’re doing for me, I owe you. And this is something I can do. I want to help.”

“I still don’t like it.” At least with him on his stomach, I didn't have to worry about the fact that I was sitting there completely naked and covered in oil.

“I’m getting that,” he said, and he sounded amused again.

He wasn’t going to back down, so I shut up and carried on with what I was doing, working my way down his spine. The sigils were a necessity, yes, but they also looked really good on him.

“Just one more to do. Can I lower your pants a bit?” My face heated. He was wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else.

“Yeah,” he said and kind of did a plank, lifting off the ground, causing his back muscles to flex.

I bit my lip and slid my thumbs under the waistband and tugged them lower. Nope. Nothing underneath. The top of his butt was also smooth and tanned like the rest of him. Ren was beautiful everywhere. “We’ll just do this one, then we’re done for the night,” I said as I inked the outline. “This one’s another anchor sigil. It’s really pretty, so intricate. I’m glad I can actually do justice to something like this now.”

“Pretty, huh?” he said, and he sounded like he was smiling. “Just what every male wants on his ass.”

I laughed. “Better than something hideous, I guess.”

He chuckled, and it was husky and sexy and made my belly flip-flop like crazy. “You got me there.”

I finished up and was still smiling. “I’ll just go clean up, then I’ll be back. You can sit up, but stay inside the salt line until I get back.” The souls had surrounded us, wailing with despair and fear and rage the entire time I’d been working. I needed to monitor them closely, gauging their reactions, to make sure each sigil was doing what it needed to, which was why I still had to take off my cuffs and necklace and do the naked, slathered-in-oil routine.

I’d done my best to tune them out. It hurt to listen to their suffering, but I didn’t tell Ren how bad it was. He asked if they were there, and I said they were, but any more than that I’d kept to myself. He was already suffering enough and doing everything he could to set them free.

I put my sigil necklace and cuffs back on. The souls receded instantly, and I stepped out, over the line, and rushed to the bathroom to wipe off the oil and dress.

When I walked back out, Ren was sitting in the center, his forearms resting on his knees. Every lean muscle was taut, defined, and I had to stop myself from staring too hard.

He rose when I walked in, and I closed the space between us and tilted my head back, trying to be professional, to stop my heart from racing in my chest. “Ready?”

“You’re going to…ah, do your healing thing?”

“Yep, you still good with that?”

He nodded slowly. “You think it’ll help, and I trust you.”

That he trusted me meant more than I could say. It meant everything. I smiled. “And I’ll text you a link to an online guided mediation class that’s great for beginners, to help you quiet things down and center yourself when I’m not here.”

Now he looked skeptical. “Meditation, really?”

“Yes, really. It’ll help, I promise. You’ll love it.” I took a step closer. “Right, let’s—”