He’d saved Micael’s life, and the man thanking him had been nothing to scoff at, but it would take more for the group to truly trust Fox. What was it like to feel so alone while surrounded by people? And what were they to him? Allies? Reluctantly. Surely not friends.
And what was she to him?
What a pitiful question to dwell on while her people stood on the brink of war.
Yet, when they laid out their beds and furs for the night, she found herself pushing her pad against his. This time, she didn’t have the cold as an excuse, and he didn’t argue. Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and slipped beneath her cloak, feeling his chest against her back, the smell of him enveloping her. He didn’t smell like a king’s man anymore. His scent had taken on the familiar musk of the forest, bark and loam and the sweet scent of decay. She could almost pretend they were back in the woods alone. She closed her eyes and remembered their one-night truce, the feel of his skin beneath her hands, the taste of him on her tongue. It had meant nothing. They’d both said it.
But it hadn’t felt like nothing.
She shifted, and behind her, Fox’s breath hitched. Her body froze, muscles going tense, and they both held their breaths, neither of them wanting to be the first to move again. Her blood hummed beneath her skin. Impatient. Hungry.
It had been days since their kiss by the lake before Chalia had shattered the moment. And since then, they’d done little more than stare each other down across the fire and press too closely together at night when it was dark enough to pretend nothing was real.
But sometimes, the only thing that felt real was the feel of Fox’s body against hers and the sound of his breathing.
He had tasted of musk and salt. His thighs had trembled beneath her palms when he’d come undone on her tongue.
It hadn’t been nothing. It had to be nothing.
Her body burned.
It could be nothing again.
Sofia made her choice. She pressed harder against him, aware of every place his body touched hers. A war waged inside her mind, but her body knew what she wanted. She cursed the clothes that formed a barrier between them, hating every breath of space as an impenetrable barrier. She shifted again, her hips slotting into his so perfectly. Fox let out a soft groan, his breath hot against her neck.
“Sofia,” he said, voice a low growl against her skin. “Stop. Moving.”
The words brought a new flush of heat to her blood, and she smiled, rocking her hips back purposefully. Her own breath caught in her throat at the feel of him, hard and needy against her backside. Someone nearby let out a snort, and Fox’s hand grabbed her hips, holding them still against him. She let out a breath, her eyes scanning over the cave in the dim light. The fire had gone out, and the others were scattered around, sleeping in their cloaks and furs. Jacinta sat near the front of the cave, leaning against a rock and staring out into the dark night, distracted.
Fox’s heated breaths brought her back to her own body, feeling the tremor in his hand where he gripped her hip. She knew she should stop. She needed to stop. She still didn’t even know if she could trust him. But her blood sang and simmered under her skin, and all she wanted was a distraction from everything. Her body shuddered against him, and she felt more than heard his groan as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder. He jerked forward, grinding himself against her—once, twice. She bit her lip to stifle her moan. She needed him. She needed this.
But she couldn’t be quiet.
She nearly let out a yell of frustration, taking a slow breath instead. They couldn’t do this here.
Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she slipped out from beneath her cloak. The cave echoed with the sounds of snores, and their bare feet were nearly silent against the stone floor. She didn’t look back as they moved in the darkness, her hands feeling for the wall and the break thatled into one of the back tunnels. The softest whisper of cloth behind her told her Fox was following.
The tunnel wall was damp, some parts nearly dripping with water. She expected to stumble around in the dark, but as they made their way deeper into the tunnel, she noticed a faint pink glow drawing her forward like a faery light. She could only hope this wasn’t some cave-dwelling species of the lunitas that led travelers astray in the forest until they fell to their deaths over the edge of cenotes.
“Oh,” Sofia’s breath came out in a rush as she turned the corner, and the tunnel opened up to a cavern, larger than the front cave everyone else was sleeping in. But it wasn’t the size that made her eyes go wide. A large lake stretched out before her, steam rising from the surface. The air was thick with humidity, and the entire space glowed pink from the luminescent crystals scattered across the ceiling and walls.
“It’s…”
“Beautiful,” Fox echoed behind her, but when she turned, he was only looking at her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, hating the way her skin crawled at the plain adoration she saw shining in his gaze.
“Like what?”
“Like you—” she cut herself off. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say the words out loud.
Fox stepped forward, slowly, as if she were an animal that might dart away at any moment.
“You are one of the strongest women I have ever known. You’re passionate and unflinching and unapologetic in everything you do. I wish I had half the strength and passion you hold in your pinky finger.”
He took her hand, caressing the stub of her ring finger without flinching. He touched her scars as if they meant something powerful about her rather than what they truly were: an accounting of her failures.
“I fail over and over again.”