He let Sofia cry. Even if just for this moment, she was safe within his arms.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SOFIA
Sofia didn’t know how long she cried. She had no concept of time until she opened her eyes and realized it was dark. The only light came from the moons above, setting the snow aglow. Jobin was gone, and the mountain was quiet once the echo of her sobs had faded. Despite the snow seeping into her pants, she was warm, Fox wrapped around her, and Chalia’s wing draped over them both.
Fox sensed whatever had shifted in her, and his hand came to rest on her shoulder, turning her gently so she faced him. His own eyes were bloodshot, his hair hanging down around his shoulders, windswept and tangled.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. The words cracked something in her, and she choked on another sob, trying to shake herself. “Your mom. We left your mom.”
“She’ll be okay,” he said, his words murmured against her forehead. He paused, and she felt the breath he was holding in before he finally continued. “Your father was still alive when we left. We won’t leave them. We’ll go back for both of them.”
She couldn’t answer. She hadn’t seen her father before they’d run. Her focus had been entirely on her mother’s blood, seeping from her throat where the blade had sliced. Fox hadn’t mentioned her mother.She wanted to scream. Her mother was gone. Dead. There was no coming back from a wound like that, and they both knew it.
“We should head back to camp,” she said, swallowing a few times. Her throat felt as though she’d been screaming for hours. For all she knew, she had.
Fox didn’t move immediately, his lips still pressed to her forehead. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, and he wound his arms tighter around her, holding her as if he were afraid she might come apart at the seams. He let her go, at last.
“We should break your cuffs off before we leave.”
Sofia looked at where the iron chafed against her skin. Her wrists were red and raw, but she didn’t feel the pain. She didn’t feel much of anything.
“With what?”
Fox hesitated, looking between her and Chalia.
“She thinks she can freeze them—cold enough that I can crack them with my sword hilt.”
Sofia looked at the metal, her brain slowly processing what that would mean. Her wrists would burn from the ice. But it was better than trying to break the iron without freezing it.
“Okay.”
Fox helped shift her wrists until they were resting on a stone, and Chalia pressed forward with care.
“Are you sure?”she asked in Sofia’s mind.
“Yes,”she said without hesitation.“I trust you.”
The dragon gave a soft snort, and then she pressed her nose against the metal and blew. Sofia tried her best to keep her wrists perfectly centered in the metal, not letting her skin touch against the iron as it began to freeze, frost crackling across its surface, cold radiating outward. But she was trembling, and the cuffs were just barely bigger than her wrists. With each touch, she bit back the hiss of pain that threatened to spill from her lips. The muscle in Fox’s jaw twitched with each intake of air.
At last, Chalia gave the signal, and he slammed the hilt of his sworddown onto the cuffs, one blow after the other. At last, metal shattered, the icy shards burning her wrists even as they fell away, and she finally allowed herself one shuddering groan of pain. Before she could pull her arms into her body, Fox was there, grabbing her hands with care, looking over the angry red skin along her wrists.
“Let’s hope Clarita has more healing paste left.” His voice was low and rough. “But they’ll likely scar.”
Sofia pulled back her hands, and he let her go reluctantly. She placed her hand against his cheek, and his eyes met hers.
“I’m okay.”
Something like anger flashed in his eyes. “Despite yourself, it seems.”
Sofia could only nod. She deserved that.
After another moment of silence, Fox stood, reaching out to help her up.
“Chalia says we’re only a few minutes away. She didn’t want to take us straight back in case Harlow followed, but there’s been no sight of them, and I haven’t sensed Eha since…”