Page 69

He glanced back at Sofia. She was staring into the fire, the shadows dancing across her face. Her skin had regained its color, no longer gray from the icy water that had brought them here. And her lips were a soft pink. Even as he watched, she sucked in her bottom lip, chewing at it gently with her teeth.

He realized he was staring at her mouth and quickly looked away, face going hot. Her hair was still wet from the water, but it was beginning to dry, frizz and curls haloing around her head, glowing a rich honey against the firelight.

His father had introduced him to many beautiful women over the past few cycles, most from families across the sea. The women had varied in hair color and stature, but their skin was always pale, their voices always soft, and their fathers always rich and powerful. One had owned a vineyard in Falais, another the shipping yards in Terdun. If his father couldn’t depend on him bringing glory to the family through his fighting, Fox would bring him influence through his marriage. It was only with Mother’s help he’d managed to delay any betrothals.

Sofia was nothing like those women. Her hair was tangled with curls that desperately needed a comb and her freckled skin had seen too much sun to be considered proper. But the way her mossy eyes lit up when she was excited and the tilt of her lips when she laughed—loud and unabashed—made her look something more than just beautiful.

He thought back to the moment after they pulled themselves out of the canyon and the way her eyes had darted down to his own lips, a heat in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d thought she might have wanted the same thing. But then the numbness from the icy river had dissipated and the sharp burning pain in his side had broken through his thoughts. Thinking about it now, about what could have happened, made his body heat and his chest ache with something unacknowledged.

“So, what did you agree to for all of this?” he said, trying to remember back to the conversation before he’d collapsed.

“I’m taking them back to the cenote to see the altars. They are giving me a day to ensure you’re okay before I leave.”

Despite being alone at the fire, it seemed that almost every pair of eyes bore into them as they sat there. There were a handful of fires burning, nearly a dozen Dragonborn sitting around each, ranging from older folks to children. And he doubted this was all of them. It was still the middle of the night, and the only people up were those woken by the chaos the earthquake and their subsequent arrival had created.

The crown knew there were likely some rebels and runaways hiding out in the rainforest, but this didn’t look like a makeshift camp for refugees. This was a thriving community of families.

“And we’re trusting them not to kill us?” he asked.

“Yes, we are.”

“We shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have agreed to anything.”

“In case it escaped your notice, you were about to bleed out.”

Fox bit back any further retort. He knew she was right. She had made the decision to keep him alive—for whatever reason. But he still hated it.

“They’re excited about the dragon sighting,” she continued. “They appear more interested in the dragon than us. It’s a good sign.”

“Perhaps,” he said, wanting to trust her, if only because of how tired he was.

“It’s why they were out there tonight. Their ancestors always spoke of the quakes that heralded the dragons.”

Fox thought perhaps he should be thankful they’d come searching and found them. But distrust sat heavy in his gut.

“How do you think Clarita knows the king’s tongue?” he asked, looking back to where she was speaking, leaning close to her confidantes.

Sofia didn’t answer for a while. “You should ask her. I don’t know.”

The answer was vague and he knew her tone well enough to know she wasn’t saying everything on her mind. But he let it pass. Now that there was food in his stomach and he was warmer than he’d been in days, his body was screaming its exhaustion at him.

“Do you still think the dragons are myths or long dead?” Sofia’s voice was soft and not nearly as biting as it could have been. She was poking him, even mocking him, but not out of malice.

“The history books always claimed they were real. I can’t be blamed for assuming a creature that hasn’t been seen by the people of Suvi in over three hundred cycles is extinct. They should be extinct.”

“You still believe that?”

“You saw what that dragon did back there—what it almost did. Those were your people it might have killed. It almost killed us. Is that something you truly want to worship?”

“It didn’t know there were people at the end of the river, and it stopped when I asked.”

“Is that what happened?” he asked, shaking his head, trying to understand how her brain worked. “All I saw was a woman insisting on almost killing herself before I was able to drag her up and out.”

“She listened to me.”

“Who?”

“The dragon,” she said simply.