Page 16 of The Enemy's Daughter

“You should sleep,” I say. If he’s sleeping, he can’t be escaping, and I won’t have to talk to him anymore. “We leave the second the sun allows me to see my feet.”

6

A few birds chirp above me in a tree.

I rub my eyes, then jerk upright.Fates, I fell asleep. The first rays of light bleed through the branches of the forest. My gaze shoots to Tristan. He’s still secured against the tree trunk. I slump a little in relief.

His eyes are closed, but I’m not sure he’s sleeping. His face is tight, and he must be uncomfortable in that position—not to mention freezing. I am. The fire is gone, and now that I’m awake, a shiver has taken up residence in my body. Summer, although only weeks away, can’t come soon enough.

Climbing to my feet, I swipe my pack off the ground and stiffly walk to Midas. She shuffles a step, then shakes her head, excited to see me. I move to stroke her neck and whisper in her ear.I’m sorry.For not being able to free her to graze or give her water. For asking her to carry me despite it. My arms slide around her, and I hug her warmth, needing her strength. Or maybe I’m just stalling.

I don’t want to do today. I don’t want to deal with Tristan. The closer we get to Hanook, the more likely he is to try to escape.

Maybe I should let him.

The debate that’s raged most of the night in my head picks back up again. I’ve seen enough death, lived through enough conflict with the Kingsland to know that beyond Tristan being tortured until there’s nothing of value he can offer, his disappearance will only make things worse. Tensions will escalate. It’ll cause more fighting, not less.

But if Tristan could have a change of heart about attacking the clans, perhaps there’s another path—one that involves loosening the knot on his leash. It’d still take him hours to set himself free, and by then I’d be home and able to sound the sirens to warn everyone of a broader attack. No one would doubtI, a mere girl, had failed to hold a soldier from the Kingsland captive. Why does this situation have to end with the torture and death of one more? The point is to stop a massacre. What if I can do that simply by changing Tristan’s mind?

What would it take to do that?

And how could I ever trust him?

Tristan’s eyes crack open as I walk over and crouch in front of him. He looks tired.

Harmless.

Handsome.

Uncomfortable, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “How’d you sleep?”

His intense green gaze slides over my face, revealing nothing. “Okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you slept like a lamb with a belly full of milk.”

His lips twitch like he’s about to respond but holds it back.

“I found some snow lilies.” His gaze drops to the yellow flowers clutched in my hand that I picked on my short walk over tohim. “It won’t taste like much, but it’s energy.”

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I pull a leaf off and pop it in my mouth. “The seed pods are better, especially when you steam them, but there aren’t any yet.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

He’s watching my lips as I chew, and when I notice, he glances away. A muscle tightens in his jaw, then to my utter shock, his mouth opens barely an inch.

I didn’t put much thought into what having to feed him would be like, but as heat explodes beneath the collar of my shirt, I realize this is strangely intimate. Unfortunately, there’s no rescinding my offer now. Ripping off a bite-size portion of the thick leaf, I bring it to his mouth, trying very hard not to brush my finger against his lips. He chews. His cheeks have dimples. His eyes find mine, and it’s my turn to glance away.

“No,” he says when I go to rip another piece for him.

Oh, good.I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, hiding my relief. But before I stand, there’s one more thing I need to say. “I’m struggling with whether I should bring you to Hanook.”

His lips part. Eyes narrow.

“I’m pretty sure you’re aware of what will happen once you’re there, and frankly, I don’t want your blood on my hands. But I also owe it to my people to keep them safe. That’s all I’ve—”

A bird takes flight, and Tristan’s eyes flick to something over my shoulder. His body goes rigid. “Shhhhh.”

Alarm shoots through me, and I glance around. A chickadee chirps her song. Is it a warning? My hand drifts silently to the knife in my jacket pocket, but my weight shifts, causing dried moss to crunch under my toes. I continue to search the shadowed treesaround us but find nothing out of the ordinary.

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