“Yeah,” I agree, tightening my grip. “We can argue later.”
He shifts slightly ahead of me, putting himself between me and the widest opening, and I adjust to cover the opposite angle without thinking about it.
“Stay up,” he says.
“I will if you do,” I shoot back.
His mouth twitches, not quite a smile, but close enough to register.
“Deal,” he says.
CHAPTER 26
HRASK
The basin doesn’t quiet down when the last of them drops.
It shifts.
The air still churns thick with heat and the copper tang of blood, but the movement changes from active threat to something quieter, more watchful, like the rest of whatever nests here has registered the disruption and decided to wait instead of rush. I track the edges of the rock formation with my weapon still raised, sweeping slow, controlled arcs, listening past the wind for anything that doesn’t belong.
“Stay behind me,” I mutter, not looking back at her yet.
“I’m not dead weight,” Jolie shoots back, her voice rough but steady enough to tell me she’s still upright.
“I didn’t say you were,” I reply, shifting my stance to cover the widest opening. “I said stay behind me until I decide we’re not about to get jumped again.”
There’s a scrape of movement behind me, fabric shifting against rock, and I catch the sound of her adjusting her footing.
“You always this bossy when you show up late?” she mutters.
“Only when I walk into a nest and find you bleeding all over it,” I shoot back, my tone dry even as I keep scanning.
The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s loaded with everything we didn’t say before she walked away from me back there, everything that sat unresolved and sharp between us. I push it down for now, because the terrain hasn’t cleared yet, and neither of us makes it out of here if I let that take priority.
“Give me a second,” I say, lowering my weapon just slightly as I shift position toward a narrower section of rock. “I want higher ground and fewer angles.”
I move along the edge of the basin, stepping over the carcass of one of the creatures without looking at it, my focus locked on structure instead of aftermath. A cluster of jagged rock juts upward near the inner curve of the basin, forming a partial wall that blocks line of sight from one side while funneling approach from the other.
“That’ll do,” I mutter, climbing up the uneven surface, testing each hold before committing my weight.
“Where are you going?” Jolie calls, her voice sharper now.
“Making sure we don’t get surrounded again,” I reply, pulling myself up onto the ledge. “Stay where you are until I say otherwise.”
“I’m not?—”
“Jolie,” I cut in, my voice dropping just enough to stop her mid-argument. “Work with me here.”
The silence stretches just long enough for me to know she’s still thinking about pushing it, and then I hear her exhale, rough and controlled.
“Fine,” she mutters. “You’ve got thirty seconds before I start ignoring you again.”
“Generous,” I say, scanning the perimeter from the higher vantage.
The wind moves differently up here, cutting across the ridge in sharper bursts, carrying scent farther and faster, and I use it, letting it tell me what’s still out there. Nothing immediate shiftstoward us, no sudden movement, no tightening pattern like before, but I don’t trust the quiet.
“You always attract the worst possible situations,” I call down to her, more to keep her talking than anything else.
