Page 81 of Dragon Gods

“No, I suppose your people wouldn’t like that,” she said, slowly. “Do you need to tell them?”

She looked over at him, seeing the shrug even as his eyes spoke of racing thoughts. Would he make it back to Suvi? Did she want him to? Somewhere along the way, she realized she didn’t want him dead. But maybe it was just the version of him out here that she didn’t hate. Once he was back within the stone walls of Suvi, safe with his bastard of a father, would he remember that he cared enough to save her? Would he remember what it was like seeing the dragon bursting through the canyon? Or would he go back to plotting how to wipe out the resistance?

“What would your fellow rebels think of you saving my life?”

“Did you forget? Getting you back in one piece was always the goal,” she said. His lips turned down into a frown. “But to be honest, I don’t think they’re going to be very happy with me no matter what. They often aren’t happy with me.”

“Do you often threaten the lives of prisoners without cause? I can see that bothering your superiors.”

“I had reasons.”

“Does it have to do with you hating my father?” He was silent, waiting for her to confirm, but she only stared straight ahead. “I don’t blame you. He’s easy to hate.”

Her eyes flicked toward his. He was focused on his feet as he walked, but a shadow had crossed his face.

“He isn’t a nice person,” she said, words careful.

“No, he is not.” He turned to her, lips suddenly pulled back in a biting smile. “But you’re absolutely awful to spend time with. I haven’t forgotten whose fault it is that we’re out here.”

Whatever tentative vulnerability Fox had shown was gone. The sneering mask he always wore was fitted back into place.

* * *

The restof the day passed quickly, with only a few occasional jabs sent back and forth between them. By the time the sun had set, they were still a few miles from the camp, and the moons, waning in the dragon’s blink, were tucked behind the thick clouds rolling in.

“We can probably make it back tonight,” Sofia said as they sat, resting and eating the avocados she’d managed to find before the shadows had taken over the forest.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to face them,” Fox said, staring at his half-eaten avocado, as though it might show him the answers to life’s greatest questions. He’d been his normal snarky self since their conversation that morning, but something seemed to be weighing on him, even now.

Though she had her own troubles ahead. She wasn’t looking forward to getting back to base and explaining Fox’s absence, either.

“We can make a fire and stay out here tonight. At least we’re properly dressed for once.”

Fox jumped at the suggestion, standing to gather wood for the fire. Sofia waited a bit longer, sucking the last remnants of the avocado’s meat from the pit before she finally stood and prepped a small area for the fire.

They worked in silence, but it was a comfortable quiet, born from days of working together and falling into some version of a routine. Sofia didn’t have the energy to hunt for food in the dark and Fox seemed to understand this. So once the fire was lit, they sat together in silence, both lost in their own thoughts and anxieties of the future.

Sofia enjoyed the heat of the flames soaking into her skin, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from flicking over to where Fox sat, hunched over his legs. She couldn’t get his words from earlier out of her mind. No love was lost between him and his dad, it seemed, despite what she’d heard of General Ocon’s constant doting on his son.

“You seem to hate your father as much as me,” she said, wincing when she saw Fox blanch at the sudden comment. After a second, his shoulders loosened and he shrugged.

“As I said, he’s easy to hate.”

“I always heard he loved his son. Doted on the golden child and gave him everything he wanted.”

Fox gave a sharp laugh, turning to her with dark amusement dancing in his eyes. “I see the confusion. You’re speaking of my brother.”

It was Sofia’s turn to startle. She should have known that. She’d seen the general many times and heard him talking about his son—never his sons. She’d seen glimpses of Fox from a distance when she was younger.

“You have a brother?”

“Had.” He stiffened at the word, even as he spoke it, shoulders going rigid. “Leon was the golden child. He was the one my father doted on. The one who was supposed to take up the role as general when my father finally retired. I was supposed to be locked away in some library, where my father could forget I existed.”

She didn’t want to ask the question, but she needed to know. “What happened to him?”

“He was killed in a black powder explosion set off by the resistance in their attempt tosave lives and free people.”

She bit back the words she wanted to say.I’m sorry. He wouldn’t want her apologies or sympathy.

---