Page 49 of Aryn

I laugh, but Ronan only crosses his arms and scoffs. “A simple ‘thank you for saving my life’ would be nice.”

Aryn’s lips twitch with amusement. “I appreciate the quick thinking. The antidote works fast. After some food and water, I should be strong enough to travel again.”

“Are you sure that’s smart?” I ask.

Aryn gestures toward the crackling fire. “It’s been burning long enough that the smoke has almost certainly been spotted. We need to put distance between us and it sooner rather than later.”

“He’s right,” Ronan agrees. “We’ll eat a solid meal from the meat and pack up the rest. I’d like us moving again in the next couple of hours, if you’re up for it.”

Aryn nods. “I’ll be fine.”

Taryn and Cameron portion out the food, and now that the immediate danger has passed, my appetite returns full force. The khraelyx meat is tough from all that lean muscle, but the fat still drips down my fingers with every bite.

Aryn leans closer, licking his own fingers clean. “Does the vengeance make it taste better or worse?”

I grin around another large mouthful. “Definitely better.”

Aryn

Sweat traces a slow path down my spine, and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to let the persistent tremor in my limbs show. We’ve been walking for hours, and I’ve needed a break for at least half of them. Still, I’m determined not to slow the group any more than I already have, so I square my shoulders and push forward.

The terrain grows steadily rockier as the forest thins behind us. There’s something deeply unsettling about traveling so exposed, but the sparse cover between us and the mountains leaves us little choice.

A few hours ago, we came across the first real signs of life. In the distance, a town sat against the rocks, surrounded by tall walls. Flickering lights came from the homes inside, and we took them as a warning to not come any closer.

It made one thing certain, though. Civilization is drawing nearer, whether or not we’re ready for it.

Ever since the attack, Cato has been no better than a guard dog, snarling and pointing at every tiny noise. It's like he feels as though he owes me the same protection I gave him, and if he delivers it, we're even once more.

In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve realized that he views life in very transactional terms. An invisible ledger exists between him and the rest of the world, and he keeps a close eye on the tally. Everything he receives creates a debt that needs to be repaid before he can move on.

I imagine he approaches his personal life in the same manner. Whatever pieces of himself he gives away, he expects in return. Loyalty, affection… even protection. I can’t imagine he’d shrug it off if that system were ever betrayed.

I glance over at him, tracing the sharp line of his profile and the proud tilt of his chin. He guards those he cares for fiercely, but his circle is small and hard won. In that regard, at least, I understand him completely.

“How are you doing?” he asks, eyes fixed ahead.

Ever since that charged moment this morning, he’s avoided looking at me. I’m not entirely sure what passed between us—only that when I leaned into him for balance, the warm, potent scent of his skin nearly overwhelmed me. It felt like a drug, and some long-buried part of me wanted nothing more than to stay there, breathing him in until the world faded. He looked at me in a way I had never seen him look at anyone else, and I’m ashamed at how desperately I wanted him to keep looking.

“Aryn?” he prompts, finally turning his head. His brow lifts, and his gaze settles fully on my face for the first time in hours.

“Sorry,” I offer with a tight smile. “My mind is a little foggy.”

“Do you need to stop and rest?”

I tilt my face toward the sky, judging the remaining light. “No,” I say quietly. “I’ll be okay.”

Ronan half-turns from his place at the front. “We’ll start looking for a safe spot to camp in another two hours. Can you make it that long?”

Exhaustion rolls through me as another sharp twinge shoots down my injured shoulder. It’s milder than before, but it still stings. Awareness burns into my skin, and I glance over to find Cato watching me again.

“What?” I ask.

His brows pinch together as he nods toward Ronan. “You never answered him. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

My stomach clenches so violently I flinch. Cato is at my side in an instant, grabbing my arm to steady me. The sensation passes quickly, and when I look up at him, I catch that same intense look from this morning.

“Uh,” Cameron drawls.