Page 4 of Burning Love (The Lost World #5)

4

SOPHIA

S ophia’s entire body ached when she woke the following day. The cot creaked beneath her as she stretched. She felt a knot of tension in her neck and winced in pain. The tension in her muscles was refusing to loosen despite the relatively good night’s sleep she’d just had. She let out a soft groan as she reached for the glass that Alex must have left for her on the cardboard box next to her bed.

The narrow space behind the screen offered little distraction—just the box, a small step that was maybe supposed to serve as a stool, and a plastic bag where someone had left a lightweight, pale blue sweater and a pair of dark gray pants. She looked down at the tattered clothes she’d arrived in. As bloodstained and threadbare as they were, what she was wearing felt like armor, and she wasn’t too sure she was ready to change into something else. They were her last tie to who she had been, the last shred of her old life.

Don’t be mental, Soph. Put the new stuff on. You probably stink. Pull yourself together.

When she stood up and started to undress, she had to sit down again immediately. Her ribs twinged, and she instinctively ran her hand over them. The bruises were still tender, their colors a range of angry purples. With great difficulty, she peeled her shirt upward, exposing the mottled skin beneath, her fingers tracing the bumpy texture of the rough surface.

A flash of discomfort caused her to let out a long, slow sigh as she closed her eyes and tipped her head backward. But the pain was more than just physical. An uncomfortable wave of unease washed over her as she came to a sudden realization. This was her body now—this patchwork of cuts and scrapes and dirt and blemishes together formed the new Sophia. She’d always been slender, her muscles lean from years of classical dance training, but now she looked fragile.

I look like I might snap in half. I’m breakable.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. He’d always said that a woman’s body should be treated with care, kept in line with virtue and restraint. And surprisingly, she’d never questioned it.

God, Daddy. You were so old-fashioned. I don’t look like your dainty little dancer now, let me tell you. Can you hear me up there? Look at me now.

She continued to run her hands along the curves of her body in a way that felt unfamiliar. It was as if she were discovering it for the very first time. She shifted slightly, and her body groaned in protest. She knew full well the bruises would fade, but how she felt in this new body of hers would remain.

This can’t be me. Why does everything feel so out of control?

Her mind wandered back to the previous day and the strange feeling that had settled over her as Alex left her for the night. The woman was so tall and confident; her presence both intimidating and comforting. Alex had been nothing but polite and kind—nothing out of the ordinary. It was her job to be welcoming, right? But still, Sophia couldn’t shake the sensation that there was more to it.

But what? Sophia didn’t really want to admit it to herself, but when Alex was near, she felt a lurching, giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Butterflies? No. Impossible.

She wasn’t like that . She’d only ever been with men—straight men, men her father approved of, men who were usually members of his congregation. Sophia had never dared be in anything other than relationships that fit within the narrow mold of decency, the kind of relationships she had been raised to expect. Even at the Royal Ballet School, when she’d had her first taste of freedom, she had never strayed from what her parents had expected from her, even when she’d wanted to. Not even when it came to Sarah, her roommate, and the girl she’d shared those secret, quiet moments with—when their hands brushed during rehearsals, when their glances lingered a little too long, when their laughter carried just a bit more weight than it should have. But nothing had ever come of it.

So… what’s with this Alex woman? Maybe I’m just scared of her.

A knock on the other side of the screen startled her, yanking her from her thoughts. She froze, panic rising.

Oh, shit. No. Not now. I’m half-naked here.

She didn’t know what to do or say when the knock came again, more insistent this time.

Sophia grabbed her shirt and held it in front of her breasts in a sharp motion.

“Who is it?” she called. “Can you give me a sec?”

Alex’s broad frame appeared from behind the screen, “What was that? Oh, sorry. It’s noisy back here. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Her eyes met Sophia’s, and for a moment, the hustle and bustle beyond the screen faded, leaving only the intensity of the moment. Alex stepped inside Sophia’s small bedroom space without hesitation, carrying a folded towel under one arm.

“You startled me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Alex said, her voice calm and neutral, but Sophia could hear the faintest hint of concern. “I figured you might want this. You can get washed up. We have a shower block. It’s not great, of course. It’s just rainwater. But I have some soap you can borrow and a little bit of toothpaste. It’s not much, but it’ll help you feel better.”

Sophia’s gaze flickered downward. She felt unable to meet Alex’s eyes. She focused on Alex’s boots for a moment. They were caked in dried mud or blood or something equally as disgusting. However, she felt oddly grateful for the distraction.

“Thanks,” Sophia mumbled. She hated how weak and vulnerable she sounded when she felt nervous. “Sounds wonderful.”

Get it together.

“Are you still in pain?” Alex’s question was blunt, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Sophia’s eyes snapped back to Alex’s face, realizing that the woman had been watching her ribs.

Sophia swallowed hard, her throat dry. She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “Not really,” she lied, the words sticking in her throat. It was easier than explaining the ache, the lingering discomfort. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Alex to know how much it still hurt. Maybe it was the pride, or perhaps it was the strange fear that Alex might see her as weak.

Alex didn’t respond immediately, her eyes steady and almost searching. There was a moment of silence, and Sophia felt exposed and vulnerable under Alex’s gaze. It was more than just concern—it was something else, something deeper.

Sophia crossed her arms over her chest, instinctively trying to shield herself from whatever this was. She wasn’t ready to deal with it.

What the hell am I doing?

“You should get them checked out,” Alex said after a beat, her voice soft but firm, like a command. “No point in risking infection.”

Sophia nodded quickly, grateful for the shift in topic. Her fingers tightened against her arms, and she could feel the pulse of heat rising in her cheeks. It wasn’t just the physical pain anymore—it was something about Alex’s presence. The way she seemed to see right through her, the way her every word seemed to touch something buried deep within.

Alex lingered for a moment longer, her eyes never leaving Sophia’s face. Then she turned, her movement smooth and fluid like everything about her was designed to catch attention.

“Breakfast is in ten,” Alex said over her shoulder, her voice low and casual, but there was an undertone to it that Sophia couldn’t quite place. “You’ll see where it’s all set up outside.”

As Alex walked away, Sophia exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart pounded in her chest.

What is this I’m feeling, and what the hell do I do with this?

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, her mind racing. This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel. Not in this world, not with everything going on.

But there was no denying it. Something had shifted. Something deep inside of her.

And she didn’t know how to take it.

The main room outside her makeshift bedroom was a whole lot busier than she’d expected. Small groups of men, women, and children were moving around with what looked like purpose. Sophia kept her head down, walking quickly toward the exit, unsure if she was supposed to be involved in some sort of activity or not. She was going to have to find someone to ask. There was a sense of urgency in the air that made her feel like she definitely didn’t belong in the place.

As she approached what she assumed was an outdoor kitchen set up in a large tent, the sharp scent of bread reached her. As Sophia took a tentative step through the opening, she was met by a broad-shouldered woman with her large hands deep in a bowl of dough. She didn’t look up, not even as Sophia entered the room, her posture rigid and focused.

“I’ve been expecting you. Major Bebbington told me to make use of you in here today. I don’t know why. My name’s Ellen,” the woman said flatly, her voice low but carrying an undeniable edge. Her eyes didn’t lift from her work as she spoke. “Grab a knife. You can start slicing and buttering some of these loaves.”

Sophia hesitated for a moment, uncertain. The tension in the air pressed against her chest, and Ellen’s no-nonsense tone only deepened her unease. She obeyed quickly, privately wishing she’d been given the time to get washed up before tackling this as she reached for a knife and moved to stand beside Ellen at the large wooden table in the center of the tent. The loaf of bread was fresh, its surface warm and smooth beneath her fingers. She worked methodically, trying to keep her movements steady, her eyes flickering occasionally toward Ellen as if searching for some clue of what to do next.

“Wash your hands first, please!” Ellen snapped, pointing to a large bowl of brownish water.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize…”

“Didn’t realize? Didn’t realize we don’t want filth and blood and gunge, and God knows what mixed in with our breakfast? I see. I imagine in England bread and filth is quite the delicacy, is it?”

Sophia didn’t speak for a while, but the weight of Ellen’s presence kept her on high alert. The older woman’s large, calloused hands moved quickly and efficiently, and her demeanor was as sharp as her words. Sophia’s mind wandered, her thoughts spinning as she tried to focus on the rhythmic thuds of the knife against the cutting board.

“I might have been wrong about you, girl. You’ve clearly done this before,” Ellen remarked after a while, her voice carrying a hint of approval though it was still matter-of-fact.

Sophia shrugged. She didn’t feel the need to share anything of her life with this woman after the welcome she’d received. She would keep her cards close to her chest with this one. “A little.”

Ellen grunted in acknowledgment. “Keep it up. I’ll make sure to let the major know I’m happy to have you on kitchen duty tomorrow.” Her words came out as an order rather than an offer. Sophia certainly felt that there was no room for argument.

Sophia didn’t reply, though a flicker of something warm passed through her chest. Kitchen duty. It was such a simple thing, yet it felt oddly significant. It was a task she could do, a role she could fill, however small it might be. And it certainly beat running around the place hiding from the undead.

The hours passed quickly as they worked in silence. Throughout the day, people came in for a few slices of bread and a bowl of soup and left without saying much. Nobody seemed to question who Sophia was or what she was doing there. In fact, she noticed that most people had hardly even made eye contact with her.

“It’s just two meals a day. You understand? We’re supposed to keep a list. But God only knows where it’s gotten to. We’ll just have to play it by ear today. Have you got an eye for faces?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Make sure you wipe up that flour over there and put it back in the bin. We can’t waste flour.”

As Sophia set down her knife, she realized that her arms were aching. But it felt incredible. Something about Ellen made Sophia feel like she would forever be walking on a tightrope, but she still couldn’t help but feel pleased with her small achievement of a morning’s work.

Ellen wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her, her gaze sharp. “You did good,” she said in her no-nonsense tone. “I’ve got help for this evening, but I expect you to be here tomorrow at the same time.”

Sophia nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The praise had given her a rush of blood to the head, and for a moment, it eased some of the pent-up tension in her body. But Ellen’s attitude still felt imposing. The woman was clearly a force, and there was something about her that made Sophia feel like she was constantly being sized up and judged. She knew she would have to work hard if she were ever to impress her.

As she was about to leave the tent, she heard boots approaching. The sound was familiar and unmistakable—strong and purposeful, with a rhythm that made her heart beat a little faster. She paused mid-motion and turned slowly to see Alex stepping inside. Her presence was magnetic, commanding attention in a way that made the plates, bowls, utensils, and… well, basically everything around her fade slightly into the background.

Sophia felt a tightening in her chest as Alex’s gaze swept the space before landing on her with a slow, deliberate stare. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something about Alex that made Sophia feel not only nervous but also like she was being seen in a way she hadn’t been for a long time.

“Got a minute, Sophia?” Alex asked, her voice low and direct, sending a ripple of warmth through Sophia.

Sophia glanced at Ellen, who waved her off with a muttered, “Go on, new girl. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hi. Everything okay?” Sophia asked, her eyes meeting Alex’s as she somehow found the courage to speak.

Alex’s expression was unreadable. “I just wanted to check in,” she said simply. Her tone had a strange softness to it. “Ellen must be pleased if she wants you back, right?” she continued with a grin. “Come on, let me show you where you can freshen up.”

They walked in silence for a while as Alex led her toward a quiet courtyard. Sophia’s mind raced with questions she didn’t dare ask. She had no idea why Alex was giving her this attention, but it felt... different. It was as if Alex had seen something in her, and it had made her strangely safe.

“We have solar-powered showers behind that wall. Don’t expect hot water, though. It’s lukewarm at best.”

“Lukewarm sounds like paradise.”

“Ha! I guess it’s better than whatever you’ve had to do out there. So, how’re you finding it all so far?” Alex asked, leaning against the wall once they reached the showers. Her posture was casual, but her eyes were sharp, taking in Sophia as though trying to piece her together.

Sophia hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to communicate her feelings. “It’s different from what I’ve been used to,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she meant it to be. She hoped she wasn’t coming across as weak as she feared.

“How do you mean? Good different or bad different?” Alex prodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she waited for a response.

Sophia shrugged. “Good, I think.” But the truth was, she was struggling with the weight of everything—the unfamiliar place, the new people she was now surrounded by every minute of the day, the unfamiliar rules and routines. And Alex. Especially Alex. “Well, actually… maybe a little of both,” she said, her arms crossing over her chest instinctively.

Alex nodded. “You’ll get used to it,” Alex said, shifting from one foot to the other as she continued to scrutinize Sophia. “It takes a while to fit in. But you will. Like how we’re all trying to get used to this shitshow of a broken world right now. It’s fucked up, right?”

Sophia didn’t respond right away. Her gaze drifted to Alex’s hands, noticing the roughness of her knuckles and the faded scars. Alex seemed to be comfortable in her skin. She possessed a sense of body acceptance that Sophia had struggled to claim all her adult life.

The space between them was filled with electricity. There was something about the way Alex was standing there—so open and present—that made Sophia want to share every thought she’d been hiding, every feeling she didn’t quite understand.

But she couldn’t. She felt herself pulling into herself, afraid to expose too much, even as she longed for the kind of easy friendship Alex might be able to offer. Sophia had always kept people at arm’s length, never quite letting them in. She had done the same at dance school. But with Alex, she felt the undeniable need to be close, to be seen and understood without having to explain.

“Why did you bring me here? Why did you take me in so easily?” Sophia asked finally, her voice trembling.

Alex’s expression softened slightly. “Did you expect me to leave you? I guess I thought you looked like you needed a chance,” she said, as though she understood something about Sophia that Sophia perhaps didn’t even understand herself. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. You seem to be doing pretty well. I’ll keep my distance. It’s probably better that way. For your sake, I mean. You don’t want the others thinking I’m giving you special treatment or anything.”

Sophia gulped, the tightness in her throat making it impossible to utter a single syllable. There was something so raw in Alex’s gaze, so steady and sure, that it left Sophia feeling exposed and vulnerable. And yet, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted special treatment. She wanted it all. She wanted to let Alex in, to tell her everything

But she didn’t know how.