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He nodded. He’d known the answer before he’d even asked it.

“I’ll stay tonight. I’d break my ankle trying to get back to the city in the dark. But tomorrow morning, I should leave.”

A fine line of blood welled up along her thumbnail where she was picking, dark red in the firelight.

“That’s only fair.”

“I can’t give up on my people and I need answers,” he said, as if defending his decision. “If someone is using the dragons, I have the opportunity to learn more.”

“The resistance will change bases, if they haven’t already, so don’t bother bringing your friends to visit.”

“I didn’t doubt it,” he said with a twist of his lips that didn’t quite look amused. “They’ll ask me about my time in captivity.”

“I didn’t doubt that.”

They put out the fire and set to work clearing the minimal space left for their blankets and bedrolls. It was the most luxury they’d had camping since Fox’s scheme to run away had dragged them both out here.

By the time she was tucking herself into the bedroll, her cloak draped over the other blankets, the air around her was icy, her breath showing in small puffs in the moonlit darkness. Fox’s bedroll rested against her own, no space in the clearing to move it farther.

She found herself turning toward him and a moment later, he did the same. He was buried in his bedroll and cloak, his pale face and hair showing starkly against the dark surroundings.

“I might not be able to remember everything.” His voice was loud in the darkness.

“What?”

“My superiors are going to want to know everything that happened out here—everything I saw and heard. But I might not be able to remember everything. Maybe I won’t even remember your name or face. It’s all been very traumatic.”

Sofia didn’t even know where she’d begin with telling Flor, Javi, and the others what had happened while she’d been gone—if Micael even gave her a chance before kicking her out of the cenote the moment she tried to enter.

After everything she’d been through, after discovering she’d been right about the dragons being alive, she was still in the same position she’d been in before she’d left. She had no job, no home, and no idea what to do.

“I’m still going to kill your father someday,” she said, “and the chief commander.” He didn’t respond immediately and she might have wondered if he’d fallen asleep if it weren’t for the glow of his silver eyes.

“And I’m going to find out who was responsible for the bombing that killed my brother, even if it’s one of your friends.”

“I know.”

A small voice in her mind told her that she could ask Micael when she got back. It was the least the old man could do before throwing her out of the resistance. But even if she did, what would she do with that information? Would she tell Fox, knowing he’d want to kill them? But didn’t he deserve to know? At least she had someone to blame.

She stayed silent, unable to make a promise she wasn’t sure she could follow through with. Fox turned over in his bedroll and she quickly followed suit, not wanting to be left staring at him as he slept.

Despite being more comfortable and warm than she had been in weeks, she couldn’t get her mind to shut off. Tomorrow and all of its unknowns loomed nearer and nearer with every beat of her heart and the night seemed to stretch out in front of her.

“Can you please stop fidgeting and fall asleep.” She had no idea how long it was before she heard Fox’s voice, rough with exhaustion from behind her.

“I’m trying,” she hissed back over her shoulder. “It’s cold.”

It was a stupid excuse. It was colder than it had been, but they’d slept in much more uncomfortable situations. The cold had nothing to do with the dread settling in her stomach.

Fox’s large hand wrapped around her waist and he pulled her back into him, the few inches of space between them disappearing in a second. His chest was warm and hard.

As she tried to focus on the rise and fall of his chest, she felt her mind spinning, thinking of Clarita, of the dragons, of Micael.

His breath was warm against her ear. “Stop thinking.”

“Easier said than done,” she said, voice just as soft, as if they were both afraid of shattering whatever they’d built in the darkness.

His hand ran softly along her arm, goosebumps rippling in its wake. He didn’t say anything even as she shifted farther into him. She was all too aware of the heat and hardness of his body at every point of contact between them, yet in that moment, it didn’t feel close enough.