Page 105 of The Hunter's Empire

Across from me, I can hear Zora shifting occasionally. She's not sleeping either. But neither of us acknowledges it.

Time crawls by with painful slowness, until minutes begin feeling far closer to hours than they have any right to.

Then I feel movement beside me. A warm arm slowly slides around my waist, and every muscle in my body goes still. I turn my head slightly and find Zora looking down, deliberatelyavoiding my eyes as she shifts closer. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. The cold has finally won.

I stare at her for a long moment. She's still a Krogen. The daughter of the man who ruined my life.

But right now, with her cold skin pressed against mine, that old hatred feels strangely distant. I hesitate only for a moment before completely turning and wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her against my chest. The shared body heat spreads almost immediately, easing the relentless cold that has settled into both of us.

Holding her like this feels strangely natural. Too natural. I don't want to examine that thought too closely.

I glance down at her and murmur, "Good night, Elf."

She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head ever so slightly. "Don't get any ideas."

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Neither of us makes any move to pull away.

Several seconds pass before her voice reaches me again, soft enough that I almost miss it. "Good night... Nico."

Something in my chest tightens unexpectedly at the sound of it. Sleep doesn't come nearly as easily as I'd hoped.

Chapter 23

Zora

The first thing I become aware of is warmth. After a night spent shivering against unforgiving stone, the sensation feels almost luxurious. I remain still for a few moments, reluctant to open my eyes, until the memories of the previous night slowly begin to return. The cave. The cold. Moving closer to Nico because my pride had finally lost its battle with common sense.

When I finally open my eyes, I immediately realize we're no longer lying the way we were when we fell asleep. Sometime during the night, we'd shifted closer. Much closer.

My arm is draped across his chest, my fingers loosely curled against his side, while one of my legs is tangled with his beneath the makeshift cover we'd used against the cold. His arm remains securely around my waist, holding me with the absentminded ease of someone who never let go after I fell asleep.

For a long second, I simply stare at him.

His face is calmer in sleep than I've ever seen it while he's awake. The permanent edge of irritation is gone, the sharpness in his expression softened by exhaustion. If I didn't know better, I might mistake him for someone entirely different.

Heat rushes to my face as I carefully lift his arm from my waist and untangle myself, taking care not to wake him. The cave offers nowhere to hide, but I still put as much distance between us as the cramped space allows before pretending to busy myself with our damp clothes.

It lasts exactly three seconds.

"You know," Nico says, his voice still rough with sleep, "most people start the morning with coffee. You chose a tactical retreat."

I look over to find him watching me with half-lidded eyes, one arm folded beneath his head while the corner of his mouth threatens to curve into a smile.

"I wasn't retreating." I reply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered.

"No?" He pushes himself upright, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders before glancing pointedly at the empty space between us. "Could've fooled me."

"It was cold." I say simply. "You happened to be the closest source of heat. That's all."

A quiet chuckle escapes him as he reaches for his shirt, testing the fabric between his fingers before dropping it with obvious disappointment.

"So I was promoted from mortal enemy to survival equipment."

"For one night."

"That's reassuring."