Chapter 22
Varek
The camp was quieter now, most of the night watch settled into their posts along the ridge.
Lanterns threw circles of gold on the ground, and the smell of smoke and pine needles hung thick in the air.
I followed one of the well-trodden paths until I reached the tent Soren’s people had pitched for us near the edge of camp.
The canvas glowed faintly from the small lamp inside.
I paused for a heartbeat before stepping in. I’d fought wars and monsters, but the thought of telling Mariah what Elsie and I had just agreed on made my pulse hit a new rhythm I’d not experienced before.
She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her flannel half unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder, hair pulled back, her cheek marked with ash from the fire.
When she looked up, the tired lines around her mouth softened.
“You look like you’ve been arguing with someone who talks too much,” she said.
“Close,” I answered, dropping to one knee beside her. “Elsie.”
“That explains it.” She smiled faintly, but it faded when she saw my expression. “What happened?”
I exhaled and rubbed a hand over my face. “The Watch has agreed to fight with us. They’ll bring their people through the tunnels, and coordinate with the Resistance. But there’s a condition.”
Her brow furrowed. “A condition?”
“They want you to go with Elsie.”
She stared at me, the words sinking in. “What?”
“They’re demanding proof this alliance isn’t another trap,” I said. “If you go with her into the labs, it shows good faith. It gives them the sign they need to move, knowing we have their backs.”
Her voice dropped. “And if I don’t?”
“They won’t come. Then the Council will panic when we attack. They’ll dose every woman left in those cages before we reach them. We’ll fail.”
The quiet stretched between us, thick and heavy. She looked down, twisting the hem of her sleeve, then met my eyes again. “You hate the thought of me going.”
“I hate sending you in there, especially without me,” I admitted. “But I know you can do it.”
She let out a shaky breath. “You think I’m brave enough to walk back into a place like that?”
“You’ve fought a serum-enraged woman, a rogue wolf, and a cougar all on your own barehanded,” I said, leaning closer. “I’ve watched you survive the serum and come back whole. Brave doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You make it sound easy.”
“It won’t be,” I said. “Elsie knows the tunnels, and she’ll keep you close. But the rest…” I reached out, catching her hand. “Mariah, the rest, you’ll do the same thing you’ve been doing since the day I found you: you’ll survive.”
She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through mine. The tremor in her touch wasn’t fear—it was the anticipation of what we both knew was to come. “And you?” she asked.
“I’ll hit the city with Rowan and Silas,” I said. “We’ll focus on power, gates, communications. The Council won’t see you coming. You’ll have a window to destroy the stocks of both the fertility drug and however much of their version of the rage serum they’ve developed.”
“And if anything goes wrong?”
“Then I will come for you.” I vowed.
Her eyes shone in the lamplight, and she leaned forward until her forehead brushed mine. “I know you mean that,” she whispered. “But I also know you can’t save me from everything.”
“I’ll try anyway, no matter what. Until my dying breath.”
Her small laugh ghosted across my skin. “I guess that’s just what you do.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The tent rustled in the wind. The lamplight flickered, painting her face in gold and shadow. I could smell the earth and smoke in her hair, and the faint trace of pine on her skin.
I kissed her.
Gently.
Sweetly.
With all the love in the world that I had to give.
Her hands rose to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
I wrapped my hands around her neck, cradling her head, my thumbs tracing the lines of her jaw.
The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, the kind that tasted of the things we hadn’t said.
The war outside faded until there was only her—her breath, her heartbeat, the soft sound she made when she finally exhaled against my mouth.
She pulled back a bit and her breath brushed against my lips. The air between us felt alive, humming with the quiet rhythm of two hearts trying to remember what peace felt like.
When she kissed me again, it wasn’t soft this time. It was desperate. My hands found her waist, fingers sliding over the warm skin beneath her shirt, feeling the faint shiver that followed my touch.
Her hands moved to the back of my neck, drawing me closer. The small lamp flickered, its glow catching on the rise and fall of her chest, turning her eyes into liquid emeralds.
“Varek,” she whispered, the sound of my name breaking something open inside me.
I pressed my forehead against hers. “You don’t know what you do to me,” I breathed.
Her mouth curved, teasing and brave. “I think I do.”
I pulled her back to me, kissing her until the air between us disappeared.
When I lifted her into my lap, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers trailed down my chest, memorizing old scars like she was mapping a story only she was allowed to read. My hand tangled in her hair as her breath hitched, our bodies fitting together in the half-light.
The storm of what waited outside faded. There was only her, her warmth, her scent, and the way her pulse fluttered against my lips when I kissed her throat.
My hands traced the curve of her spine, feeling the way she arched into me, a silent invitation. The world outside the tent could burn, but here, in this moment, we were untouchable.
Her voice was soft when she spoke again, the words almost lost in the rustle of the wind. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“When it’s over,” she pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, “when it’s all done, you and me… We come out of this. Together. Just like this.”
I held her gaze, and I felt my heart thump. “Just like this,” I promised.
Her smile was small but real. “Good.”