23. Cato #3
Ronan nods. “The microorganisms in the leaves make them shimmer. Touching them would set off little bursts of light.” He lets out a quiet laugh. “We used to have festivals under the biggest ones. People would dance for hours while the trees lit up around them.”
Ronan runs his hands over a few of the branches. They light up, though the glow is faint. He smiles, but there’s an unmistakable sadness in it. “When Sovran told us about the weather here, I wondered if they’d survived.”
Cameron looks awed as he runs his fingers along the curtain of branches. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve seen since we got here.”
“I wish they still glowed as bright as they used to,” Ronan says with a sigh, and another pang of something hits me in the chest as Cameron takes his hand. My head’s been a mess since this morning, and it takes all my willpower not to look at Aryn beside me.
We continue along the river until we find a massive Dirdira tree, easily three times wider than the others. Its curtain of pale yellow branches is dense, creating a natural canopy that stretches out over a flat patch of ground.
“What do you think about camping here?” Aryn asks, studying our surroundings. “The river is at our backs and the tree gives us cover. We won’t find anywhere safer.”
No one argues.
We set up as the last light fades, and have a quick, cold dinner of MREs and dried meat from the farm.
We decide on a watch schedule, with Lillith and Ronan taking the first shifts.
Taryn sets up her and Lillith’s sleeping bags closest to the trunk, while Ronan and Cameron take a mossy spot closer to the water.
Aryn meets my eyes and nods toward a small veil of hanging branches.
They create a thin natural curtain around us, and though we can see the others through it, there’s a sense of privacy.
Even in the growing darkness, the trees hold on to a faint inner glow, and as night settles in, the soft yellow light filters down through the branches.
I settle into my sleeping bag, suddenly freezing now that I’m no longer moving. Aryn tucks in beside me, his face dimly lit by the golden glow. “Earlier, you asked me about my preferences.”
Some of my embarrassment creeps back in. “Can we just pretend that never happened?”
He smiles to himself as he stares up at the canopy above us. “I like people for who they are, Cato,” he says quietly. “And I like you.” He turns to me with a careful smile, but when I don’t say anything, it turns strained. He swallows and goes to turn away, but I grab his shoulder to stop him.
“I like you, too,” I whisper back.
His eyes are sad as he takes a deep inhale and slowly releases it. “I know you do, rha khor.”
“What does that mean? You’ve called me that before.”
His gaze moves up to my hat, then nudges it back and tugs on a strand of hair. “It means wildfire.”
I huff. “Yeah, my hair—”
“Your heart,” he interrupts. “You have so much fire inside.”
Another shiver wracks through my limbs as the wind picks up and makes the branches sway.
He watches me in that unmoving way of his, as if he could stare into my head and pick apart all these scribbled words and knotted feelings.
It’s like I’m another book for him to study—like he could pry the covers apart, read everything inside me line by line, and understand the shit I don’t even understand myself. I’ve never felt so exposed.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit.
Aryn’s expression is pained, looking at me as though I’m something to be careful with. “I know,” he says quietly.
I shake my head, rolling onto my back to stare into the dimly glowing tree. “You know it all, don’t you? Just got it all figured out.”
“I don’t have any idea what I’m doing,” he argues. “But I know we don’t have to figure it out right now.”
His words settle something in me, even if they don’t fix the confusion. I’m always so ready to act. Ready to charge in at a moment’s notice and get the job done. Where he has that solid patience, I’ve lived my life wanting everything now.
Maybe it’s okay to not have the answer yet.
I shiver again as the wind howls, the bitter cold slicing through the fabric of my sleeping bag like razors as I tuck myself deeper into it. The whir of a zipper makes my head snap up, and I furrow my brows as Aryn unzips the side of my bag.
“What are you doing? It’s cold as balls out there.”
An amused smile tugs at his lips as he connects our bags, then climbs inside. His body is a furnace as it curls against mine, and I nearly groan at the heat radiating off him.
“What are you doing?” I ask again.
“You’re cold, so I’m helping you stay warm. Let me take care of you tonight.” He says it with such confidence—like it’s something that just is.
Something that’s supposed to be that way.
A thick ball forms in my throat as I relax into his hold, allowing myself to be taken care of for the first time in as long as I can remember.
“This doesn’t count as you saving me,” I say after a moment.
“You don’t get a point for this.” He doesn’t answer, but his chest shakes in silent laughter as he wraps an arm around my middle and pulls me closer.