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“Shifters?” she said, not bothering to hide the sneer at his confusion. “Do you want me to explain it to you like you’re a child? Those—” she pointed a finger into the dark “—were not just men. We’re lucky to be alive. I don’t know a human who’s seen a wolfshifter and lived to tell about it.”

“Shifters are mythical beings from Dragonborn stories.”

“Well, you should tell them that,” she said, kicking the man at her feet. “Or better yet, chase down the wolf that just shifted directly in front of you and tell him.”

“I didn’t see anyoneshift,” he said and he meant it. It had been dark—all he’d seen was the man crouch over and disappear.

“You’re an idiot,” she said bluntly.

His face burned.

“And this idiot just saved your life.”

“I’m pretty sure, I saved yours first.”

“I wouldn’t have needed saving had you not kidnapped me.”

“It was running away that got you into trouble!”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Sorry, oh captor of mine. Next time, I’ll stay tied up and quietly wait for you to chop me into small pieces.”

“I was hardly going to chop you up,” she said and he thought he could almost sense amusement in her voice. “It would have been a finger or two at most.”

He didn’t see the joke.

“Feral bitch,” he muttered, plenty loud for her to hear.

She only rolled her eyes and turned away from him to pick up her bag.

“That’s mine!” He moved to grab the dagger she was sliding into her belt, but she sidestepped before he could.

“I don’t think so.” She turned, pointing it at him, more in annoyance than as a threat. “A, this is Emilio’s blade, not yours. B, I definitely don’t trust you with a weapon. And C, you’re still my captive.”

Fox laughed, full-throated. He waved his arms around them, as if she might not have taken in their situation until now. “What do you plan on doing? Tying me up and dragging me the however many miles back?”

“I won’t tie you up if you promise not to run or attack me,” she said.

He couldn’t hide the smirk that curled his lips. “You’ll tie me up if I don’t behave?”

She narrowed her eyes and he stepped forward again, attempting to swipe the blade from her waist. Before his fingers even brushed the hilt, she sidestepped and brought her smaller dagger across his forearm in a shallow, but decisive warning. He hissed at the flash of pain and pulled back.

She smiled. “Behave.”

“I’m not going to follow you like an obedient animal to my own slaughter.”

“Stay out here, then. The wolfshifters seem all too happy to make friends.”

He looked around the forest and took in their surroundings. The trees had already been unfamiliar and towering when he’d first exited the tunnel, but now they were enormous, the roots twisting up from the ground nearly the size of him around. At some point over the past few minutes, the sun had crested the horizon and the shadows of the forest were starting to recede. The night blooms had closed and the morning birds were waking from their sleep, the trills beginning to replace the hum of the night insects. But none of that told Fox anything.

They were farther from Suvi than he’d ever been before—farther he’d guess than Sofia had ever been. With the pace the men had taken, he wasn’t even sure how far they were from the tunnel he’d originally come through. They’d been running all night. He looked back at Sofia, unsure if it was more relieving or frightening to see his own uncertainty reflected back. For all her talk, she had no more control over their situation than he did—except perhaps a few more daggers. She couldn’t drag him back to the resistance base without his cooperation, and there was no way he was going to be the one to follow her.

“I’m going to head south now,” he said. “You can follow me if you want.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, and started moving. He was weaponless, hungry, and had no idea where he was going, but he knew she’d have to head in the same direction as he did. At some point over the next day or two, she’d slip up and he’d have a weapon. He’d decide then what his next steps were—running back to Suvi without her or bringing her back as a prisoner.

Sure enough, he heard the soft sound of her steps a few moments later. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her walking a few yards away, bag in hand and the bow and quiver tucked back in their place on her back. He wondered what supplies she had in there and if he could convince her to share. She was watching him with the same careful stare he was giving her, neither quite willing to turn their back on the other. Now that she was moving, Fox didn’t want to have her behind him, and he fell back so they were walking relatively even, albeit still keeping a few yards apart.

They continued like this for hours, each watching the other more than the ground before them. Fox tripped three times walking like this, which only made him more bitter because Sofia had managed to jump over every root in her way without taking her eyes off of him. But she couldn’t hide the exhaustion and hunger that was plaguing her just the same as him. They had been able to find enough morning dew on the lower leaves to slake their thirst, but Fox hadn’t gone this long without food in cycles and he was beginning to feel the exhaustion of the last few days, the adrenaline having been left behind with the dead bodies.

It was midday before Fox stopped, eyes zoning in on the stack of mushrooms painted across the trunk of a large tree. He recognized the blue-capped fungi with their small yellow freckles. They were the same mushrooms his mother had cooked on special occasions and his mouth watered with the memory of their buttery taste. He moved automatically, steps suddenly lighter as he leaned over the trunk and plucked the mushrooms from the wood. He didn’t care that they were raw and flecked with dirt, placing the first cap on his tongue?—