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“You let dragon-filth capture you?”

The words were a sneer.

“I was outnumbered, and you can see how well it worked out for her.” He shrugged again. He wanted to stop talking about her. He wanted to be home and have this all behind him.

“At least you did us the favor of marking the passage into the cenote. You made your capture useful.”

It was the closest his father had ever gotten to complimenting him, but Fox felt nothing.

“Since you’re back,” his father continued, “you should head into the city to report to the chief commander. He will want an explanation for your delay. I’m sure he’ll be happy to congratulate you on finding the resistance’s base at last. The kingdom owes you.”

“Of course, General,” he said, trying to ignore Sofia’s eyes burning into him. If he didn’t look, he wouldn’t have to see whatever emotion would be there. He stared instead at the bag clutched in the meaty fists of the man who’d captured her. If his father found the feather, Fox knew it would disappear before he could understand what it all meant.

“And tell your mother you’ve returned. I can’t go another night with her thinking you’re dead. The woman hasn’t stopped wailing.”

His father turned to the specialist. “You can return with Junior Sergeant Ocon and your platoon to bring this creature to the prison. Keep her separated from the others. I wish to interrogate her myself before the chief commander sees her.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, his father turned away, unconcerned once more about his returned son, but not before he threw one last sneer at Sofia.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

SOFIA

Sofia’s face was hot with rage and something bordering on shame, though she refused to acknowledge it. Fox wouldn’t meet her eyes, but the three other soldiers with him had none of the same qualms. The one that had caught her in the back tunnels was still leering down at her, seemingly excited that her tunic was hanging on by a thread.

She was angry at him. She was angry at General Ocon. She was angry at herself for getting caught. Yet, despite everything, she had no idea what she was feeling toward Fox. He had marked the cenote’s entrance during his escape. He was the reason for everything happening now and she saw the truth of that in his face. But the Fox that had let her walk away this morning—the Fox that had touched her gently and called her passion a gift—he was different than the one that had marked the base. Wasn’t he?

Or perhaps she was simply lying to herself to stop her heart from breaking and her soul from shattering at the realization she’d trusted the wrong person, again.

She watched the men gathering, dragging sacks of food and weapons they’d raided from the storerooms and kitchens. She knew she had bigger things to worry about, but she still wanted to scream. They were stealing a cycle’s worth of dry goods and the meat that she’d helped collect. And where would they take it? To the military quarter where meat was never in short supply, or the royal quarter where food was squandered without care.

“That’s not yours.” She bit the words out, regretting it even as she said them. But the soldier walking by with the sack of cornmeal only gave her a jeering laugh, and her personal guard, still standing behind her, smacked her hard across the head before she could say more.

“Shut up, dragon bitch. The food is as stolen as the weapons we found.”

She wanted to say more, but her gaze rested on Fox. He was looking at her again, for the first time since she’d spit at him, and his face was pale. The sneer he’d been wearing for his father was gone and he looked at her now with something akin to pleading in his eyes. Her stomach twisted, but she closed her mouth.

There was a time for passion and impulse and a time for waiting. She needed to watch and make a plan. She might be able to escape between here and Suvi. Depending on how many walked with her. She knew the forest better than any of them. She could climb a tree and slip into the leaves before they found her.

Her chest expanded with a slow breath, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she released it, slower still. And then she let her eyes take in the soldiers moving around her, calculating. Careful not to draw attention with her surveillance, she counted the soldiers gathering together to move back to Suvi with her. There were so many of them.

She chanced a glance behind her, seeing the movement of a few other soldiers out of the corner of her eye. Any ounce of hope and happiness drained from her. There were bodies on the ground she hadn’t noticed. Viola’s face was turned away from her, but she recognized the silver and black strands of her braid and the small ceramic flower comb she always wore. The one Javi’d gifted her cycles ago. It was stained now with the blood no longer leaking from the wound in her head. Another two bodies lay just behind, but Sofia couldn’t see them from where she kneeled. Not without standing.

She moved automatically, too afraid to not see who was lying next to Viola. Javi? His heart-mother, Elena? But before she made it even an inch off the ground, a large hand laced through her hair and yanked her hard. Back arching painfully, she let out a small cry. Her hands scraped against the ground even as she tried not to let the tug throw her off-balance, but the momentary jerk had her tunic falling. The skin of her back was again exposed, her breasts nearly bared. She scrambled once more to cover herself up, but the man kicked her hard in the side.

“If you can’t keep your shirt on properly, I should just take it from you.”

She hated herself for the flush of shame and fear the threat sent up her spine. Before she could retort, she felt soft fabric slipping over her head. Fox was above her, avoiding her eyes as he arranged the dirty but intact shawl around her shoulders.

“You’re giving the creature clothes?” the guard asked.

Fox looked at him with a coldness she’d forgotten he could possess. “I don’t take enjoyment in staring at a Dragonborn’s bare flesh. It’s beneathme.”

The guard gave an indignant snort, but didn’t comment.

She might have been thankful for it, but not even a minute later her guard was back, pulling her up none-too-gently from the ground. He tied her hands behind her, but she was at least covered by the shawl that Fox had found and she sent a small thanks to him in her mind.