“I was processing how your skin felt against mine.”
That ball of heat where my heart is flares at his words, and I dare to ask. “And how does it feel?”
“Electric, like storm clouds.”
I stare at our joined hands, willing something—anything more—to happen. Not because I want a connection with this man, I reason. Forget that silly moment where my heart stuttered upon hearing him crying for me.
But I want to feelsomething. I want to feel normal.
“We need to fix it,” I say. “I need to be put back the way I was.”
“I know. We’ll fix it. We’ll make it right.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to figure it out. Can you move again?”
I nod and stand upright.
“I don’t think they meant to let me live, regardless of what that woman said,” Kearan says. “They didn’t blindfold me. I know right where we are.”
“Good.”
“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “For coming back for me.”
“I happened to stumble into the camp where you were being held.”
“You would have come for me even if that weren’t the case.”
“We need to move again.”
We run, flying through the forest as silently as possible. I try to slow my breathing, but I’m panting as loudly as an overworked horse. My head and limbs feel too heavy. I carry more than I ever should have to: the fate of the world if Threydan catches me, the end of my own mortality looming over me, the possibility of being kept from my family forever, and always—always—my past looming just around the corners of my mind, waiting to invade my thoughts should I let my walls down.
I brace myself against a tree when I need yet another break. I feel as though I could sleep for days.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I just need a moment.”
“No, I mean, a lot has happened. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“That can’t be true. You’re not a rock.”
“I’m the captain, Kearan. I’m not allowed to be anything but fine.”
“You could be something else right now. It’s just you and me. I already know the full situation. You won’t lose face or authority by being honest with me. If you wanted, just until we get back to the camp, you could tell me things and I will never repeat them to another soul.”
I say nothing. All my pressing thoughts are begging to be examined, pounding at my skull. My heart feels as though it is about to burst.
“You could just be Sorinda for a moment. Not the captain. It might help,” he prompts.
I’m so spent, and perhaps that is the only reason why my defenses are down. I’m helpless to refuse the release he offers me. I’m carrying too much. It’s never felt like so much of a burden before.
It’s never been so unbearable before.
“We tried to do a good thing,” I say, rubbing at my closed eyelids. “We looked for those girls, intent on saving them. Instead, we wake up an undead being? I suppose I should just expect these kinds of things by now. Nothing in my life has been easy or gone the way I expected it to.