Chapter 38
Vaelor
Vaelor refused to use the same campsite Blaine and Dugan had chosen.
The very idea of sharing ground with Blaine—breathing the same air, sleeping where that male had stood—made his blood heat dangerously.
He wasn’t sure if Blaine had survived the blow to the head or the storm that followed.
He didn’t care. What he knew, with a clarity that cut through his exhaustion, was that if Blaine had put Mara in danger one more time, Vaelor would have ended him without hesitation.
Mara’s voice pulled him from the dark spiral. “Are we going to look for another cave?”
He heard the fatigue in her tone, the wariness, the tremor she tried to hide. She was soaked through, shivering violently, her lips pale from the cold. There was no time to search for a cave—not with the storm still growling overhead and her body temperature dropping.
“No,” he said gently. “We’ll use that small clearing up ahead.”
It wasn’t ideal. The clearing offered little natural protection, just a shallow dip in the ice and a few jagged rocks that broke the wind.
But it gave him a full view of the surroundings.
No one would approach without him seeing them first. And right now, visibility and speed matter more than comfort.
Mara stumbled slightly as they reached the clearing. Vaelor caught her elbow, steadying her. She tried to smile, but her teeth chattered too hard.
He moved quickly.
He struck flint to frost-lichen, coaxing a fire to life in the center of the clearing.
The flames sputtered at first, fighting the dampness, then flared into a steady orange glow.
He set up the tent next, hands moving with practiced efficiency despite the ache in his muscles.
His body was still weakened from the Pulse Labyrinth—his limbs heavy, his head foggy—but he forced himself to keep going.
Mara needed warmth.
Mara needed rest.
Mara needed him.
“Get out of the wet clothes and into the bedding,” he told her.
She hesitated. “What about you?”
“I’ll take mine off and join you shortly. The biosuits need to be hung near the fire to dry. And I want to heat up some food.”
“I’m not sure I can eat right now,” she admitted, rubbing her arms.
“We both need sustenance,” he said firmly. “One more challenge, then the finale. We need the energy and the rest.”
She nodded, too tired to argue.
He turned away to give her privacy as she slipped into the tent.
He could hear her movements—slow, clumsy, exhausted.
The sound tightened something in his chest. She had pushed herself beyond her limits on that bridge.
She had fought the storm, the wind, the collapsing boards, and her own fear.
She had survived because she was strong… but also because she trusted him.
He hung their biosuits near the fire, watching steam rise from the fabric. The heat felt good on his skin, but he didn’t linger. He stripped quickly, the cold biting at him immediately, and carried the warm food packets to the tent.
He stepped inside—completely naked—and found Mara already curled in the bedding, her hair damp, her cheeks flushed from the fire’s warmth. Her eyes lifted to him, heavy with exhaustion but still bright. She looked at him as though he was the only solid thing in a world made of ice.
He liked that look.
He liked it too much.
But she was barely staying awake.
He sat beside her and handed her a food packet. “Eat, then sleep.”
She obeyed without protesting, taking slow bites. He ate beside her, forcing himself to swallow even though his stomach felt tight with fatigue. When they finished, he slid into the bedding beside her, pulling her close. Her body relaxed instantly against his.
There was no telling when the next challenge would begin. They needed every moment of rest they could steal.
He didn’t know how long he slept. Minutes, maybe. Or hours. His body was too drained to track time.
He stirred when Mara climbed over him, her weight shifting the bedding.
“Where are you going?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.
“I just need to go relieve myself,” she whispered.
“I’ll come with you.”
Her face pinkened. “No, I’ll be right back. Keep resting.”
He didn’t like it. Not after everything. Not with Blaine somewhere out there. But she was stubborn, and he was too tired to argue. He let his head fall back onto the bedding, eyes closing.
He must have drifted off again.
When he woke, the fire had burned lower… the wind had quieted… and Mara still hadn’t returned.
A cold spike of fear pierced through his exhaustion.
Instantly, he was alert.
He sat up, every muscle tense, every instinct roaring awake. The bedding fell away from him as he rose to his feet, scanning the clearing.
“Mara?” he called softly.
No answer.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.