Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
SOFIA
The anxiety hit only a few minutes after Ian had disappeared into the darkness. The words he’d whispered into her ear sat there, persistent and so very loud in her own thoughts.
“He loves you. You should let him.”
The words weren’t a surprise, but they wreaked havoc in her mind. She’d been ignoring the feelings between them, convincing herself it was just sex—a distraction from the chaos to keep her sane.
But it wasn’t. She knew the look in his eyes when he held her in the darkness.
It was the look she’d never quite understood wasn’t in Gabriel’s gaze when he’d looked at her.
Yes, he’d cared about her on some level.
Their relationship hadn’t been nothing. But he hadn’t loved her.
When it had come down to it, he’d loved himself more, and he’d thrown her under the king’s blade the moment it was convenient.
But Fox—Fox looked at her as if he’d place his own neck under the blade.
And somehow, that scared her more. She knew how to handle selfishness and self-preservation.
She didn’t know how to handle what was brewing between them.
There were too many obstacles—too many unknowns.
She was prepared to die in this war—she was losing faith in any other option.
But she wasn’t ready to break his heart when she died.
He deserved better than that—better than what she had to offer.
“We need to get back to the dragons,” Fox said. He must have said it a couple of times before she’d heard him because he looked at her with such deep concern.
She ignored the question in his gaze.
“Right, the deadline,” she said, brain catching up to him. She looked back out at the shadowy forest. “We can’t leave for too long. We need to be here when Ian signals for us.”
Fox nodded, running a hand across his face. She watched as his fingers traced along the hair on his jawline. He looked good with the beard. His hand stilled, and her eyes flashed up. He was considering her again, face puzzled.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Just distracted. By the bones and dragons and everything.”
She wanted to jump into a snowdrift to wake herself up or to cool the red blush that crept up her cheeks. Fox studied her for another minute before dropping his gaze.
“You should take Chalia back to the dragons. I’ll stay behind to watch for Ian’s signal. You just need to show me where the tree he was talking about is.”
She nodded. She needed to get back to the others and share everything they’d learned, but she also ached at the idea of leaving him behind. Alone with the rest of the army.
Ian would be here for him. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Fox. Not now that he knew what Fox meant to her.
“I can send Jobin here to watch over him once we’re back at the nesting grounds,” Chalia said. She was sitting perched on the rocks above their heads, looking down into the clearing with a sense of knowing that Sofia didn’t like. Some thoughts were her own.
“I’m sorry,” Chalia said, and Sofia flinched.
“Can you read his thoughts the same way?” Sofia asked, not knowing if she actually would want to know anything if Chalia could.
“No,” Chalia said. “Only when he’s projecting to me. Your thoughts feel different. They’re louder and more persistent.”
It almost sounded insulting. “Right,” she said.
Sofia looked up at the sky. From the clearing, she could still make out the stars directly overhead, but as her gaze inched along to the horizon, she could see the stars fading away with the dawn. They only had an hour at most before it would be too bright to sneak through the woods.
“Let’s go.”
They made the trip in silence, Sofia making Fox navigate in front of her, following the scraps of fabric still left in the branches to mark the path.
She needed to know he’d be able to make the journey without her for the next few nights until she returned.
It gave her too much time to think—too much time to watch the way he moved through the trees, more comfortable than he’d been when she’d first met him.
He looked at home out here—at home in the resistance.
His hair was growing out, tied back in a loose bun, but stray hairs escaped and brushed against his neck where his tattoo was just visible beneath his tunic.
They’d been wearing the same outfits for a week, and yet, the dirt and wrinkles only made him more attractive.
She’d known he was handsome from the first time he’d captured her—once she looked past his resemblance to his father.
But now, with his skin tanned from weeks in the sun, his hair curling from the humidity in the air, and the softness around his eyes when he looked at her, she realized he looked more like his mom.
It was more than just the physical changes. He had softened over the time she’d known him. There was something vulnerable in the way he looked when he didn’t know he was being watched. He looked so young and so hopeful.
But she’d been mistaken before. She’d been betrayed before.
“I can feel you staring,” Fox said after nearly thirty minutes of silence. They were approaching the camp, and his voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t—”
He stopped, turning and striding toward her in one swift motion. She retreated until a tree blocked her path. He pressed in closer until his front barely brushed against hers, his face in shadow. Her stomach swooped as he smiled, white teeth flashing in the dark.
“I can feel your eyes on me.”
“I was just making sure you were going in the right direction.”
He leaned forward, nose running along her jawline and into her hair until his breath was against her ear.
“Liar.”
She closed her eyes and breathed him in. He smelled of the forest and the mountains. He smelled familiar in a way she hadn’t recognized until this moment, as if this scent had always been hers—part of her.
She’d been betrayed before, but Fox was nothing like Gabriel.
“Sofia,” he said, voice earnest and low. She looked into his face and saw such raw yearning that her chest felt flayed open. She pulled her lip between her teeth.
The bark cracked above her, and she looked up to see his hand gripping a branch in the tree, knuckles white.
“We should go,” he said, voice aching and low.
She could only nod and swallow.
Once he stepped away, she was able to take a deep breath of icy air, colder in his absence.
“We’re only a few minutes away.”
She moved to take the lead for the last part, pointing out the tree she’d originally found and climbed. The small fabric she’d tied was blowing in the wind between the branches.
They returned to the clearing, walking in silence.
Sofia was tempted to stay longer, but she knew if she stayed, she’d fall asleep, and there were plans to be made.
But she wanted to fall asleep—she wanted desperately to spend another night in Fox’s arms. They had built a small oasis here—two days. But it was done.
She would always want more. Even when she couldn’t have it.
She took a deep breath, making sure once more that Fox was set up for at least two days alone. He’d be rationing the food they’d brought, but she planned to be back.
“Okay, time to go,” she said, half to Chalia and half to Fox.
They stood staring at each other, neither moving despite her words.
Fox opened his mouth at the same time she opened hers, and he snapped it shut. But she didn’t speak. She just swallowed.
“Right,” she said after another beat. “Going.”
“Going,” he agreed.
She watched him for another moment, Ian’s words echoing through her mind. Let him.
Could she let him? What about all the ways it could go wrong? All the heartache that could come? She turned away.
Chalia was already crouching to let her climb up.
As she reached out for her, she felt herself being pulled back.
Fox turned her, his hands cupping her face until she was staring up at him.
The sky had turned gray over the course of their trip, and she could see every micro-expression in his face as his eyes swept over her.
He kissed her, slow and hard. And she let him.
She closed her eyes and let the scent of him envelop her with no thought of the future.
When he finally let her go, she swallowed hard.
She turned before he could see the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes.
The present was all they had, but it didn’t feel like enough.
And for the second time, Chalia lifted into the air, Sofia’s fingers intertwined with her feathers and the taste of Fox on her lips.