CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
SOFIA
Sofia woke with a scream.
She’d been on Chalia, trying to reach out to Fox’s body as he fell. But then Chalia was gone, and so was Fox, and it was just her, falling through the air with nothing left to catch her. Her hand reached out to the right of her, but it met empty furs. She lurched up, heart pounding.
Her father’s bed was empty, and her body was trembling. A sob broke out of her, and she covered her face with her hands, trying to get her breathing under control. A second later, warm hands wrapped around her. She opened her eyes, the smallest part of her expecting blond hair and Fox’s warm voice, but it was Javi with his soft curls and rough words.
“Sorry,” he said. “Your father got up early to talk to Micael. I was just coming back to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.”
He murmured the words into her hair, his hand making smooth circles on her back.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I just—” Her voice was thready.
“Stop,” Javi said, pressing a kiss against her hair in a way that made her heart ache and her eyes burn. “You don’t need to be okay. And you definitely don’t need to be sorry.”
But she was. They’d been back in the nesting grounds for three days, and she hadn’t made it through a night without waking at least once, screaming in terror. The others had moved out of her cave, though her father insisted he was fine, and Javi just gave her a flat look when she suggested he follow the others.
“They made breakfast,” Javi said. “I’ll be right back.”
She wanted to tell him not to bother, but she knew the argument was moot. Javi hadn’t let her skip a meal in three days, no matter how much she’d stared at the food like it had personally offended her.
When he returned, he was holding steaming bowls of stew, one for each of them. It smelled of herbs and spices, and her stomach turned. She still gave him a tight smile and forced the food down her throat. It tasted of ash.
“Where are the others?” Sofia asked. At least the stew had warmed her throat so that it no longer scratched against itself.
“Micael, your father, and some others are talking to Aurelia, trying to come up with a plan.”
“Plan?” Sofia said, setting the bowl down. “The plan is to burn the army to the ground and dance on their ashes.”
“We might need a bit more than that,” he said. “If we want to win.”
Sofia nodded. He was right. They needed to survive this. She needed to survive this. Didn’t she?
Guilt churned in her stomach at the thought, as if it were a selfish thing to want to live. So many had already died for the cause—for her.
“Vato died fighting for us,” she said, voice soft.
“He did.”
“I think he always knew he would. The way he always talked.”
Javi squeezed her hand. “He’d lost so much. He fought hard and sacrificed everything. But that doesn’t have to be the only way. We deserve to fight for more.”
“And what’s that?”
“A future.” He stared at her hand, fingers tracing across the veins there. “My mom joined Micael and the others today, along with a few of the others that haven’t been fighting. They want to join and help with the next steps.”
Sofia felt the slight tremor in his hand. “She shouldn’t feel the need to help.”
“Shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t they all?”
“You can tell her to stand down.”
Javi gave a sad smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to tell my heart-mother to do a gods-damned thing. Not even my blood-mother could do that.”
“If she gets hurt?—”