28. TWENTY EIGHT

twenty-eight

FEIGN CONFIDENCE

Darian rolls his eyes, a cut above his brow bleeding into the crease of his eyelid and snaking down his cheekbone and jaw. “How should I know?”

“I asked you to look out for him?” Cole growls, his fists clenching.

“I might have been a little preoccupied trying to save Melaina’s ass,” Darian spits back and jerks his thumb at Melaina.

She glares back at him with a grumble. “I didn’t need your help.”

Cole shoves past Darian, hard enough for Darian to take a few steps back to balance himself.

“Where are you going?” I call out, following him as he strides away from the group.

“To get Archie. I’m not leaving him behind.”

I lunge after him, and he rips his arm from my grasp.

He spins a stern look on me. “I command you to stay.”

He breaks into a sprint toward the roaring flames of Blackfell.

My heart sputters as his figure grows smaller, and he disappears. My feet are stuck to the ground, not because he commanded me to stay but because of my fear of the flames, the sweltering heat, and the crackle of burning wood resembling snapping necks.

Swallowing hard, I try to force myself to go after Cole—to go after Archie. To try and save the one who saved me all those weeks ago. There’s no doubt in my mind if our scenarios were switched, Archie wouldn’t hesitate for a second. But these fucking legs won’t move, and my head won’t stop screaming at me to stay.

I shift my focus to Darian. “Go after him.”

He scoffs. “What makes you think I owe you anything?”

“If it were your sister, you’d go.”

He flinches as if I’ve slapped him. It unlocks something in him, a mixture of emotion I can’t quite place. With a hint of a snarl, he turns and runs after Cole.

“Daeja?” I call out internally.

“I’m still here.”

I’m tempted to look over my shoulder at the pines behind us for her, but I don’t. “ If they don’t come back soon…” A lump forms in my throat at the thought of losing Cole and Archie.

“I understand,” she whispers back.

The squad and freed civilians around me are staring. Multiple conversations break out around behind me.

“We should go after them,” Melaina says, unsheathing her sword and readying herself to run back.

“Doing so would be suicide,” Nolan argues.

The frenzied chatter erupts, and I lose track of who is saying what.

“Cole went out.”

“Cole is crazy.”

“Why did Darian go with him?”

“Did Darian actually save you?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s take half of us and go after them, they’ll need back up.”

“Or we should wait here. If they don’t come back quickly, we should check the outpost in case it’s a trap.”

“Then if it is a trap, we’re already dead.”

I run. Away from the chatter to Blackfell. I don’t let my hesitations or fears lock me down as I push through each stride. Feigning confidence. Thinking of Archie—of daggers and soup ladles.

“ I’ll be right behind you. ”

“No. Stay until I call you.”

She grumbles, and a shadow flickers through the trees beside me, following me. Damn stubborn dragon.

“I heard that.”

The fire grows larger and larger as I get closer to the city. I avert my attention down to my feet, narrowing my focus to putting one foot in front of the other. Sweat collects on my brow, my neck, my back, my palms as I speed toward Blackfell.

I stop at the entrance of the town—a wall of fire engulfs the buildings, the roofs, the sky. I sink onto my knees. There’s no way they are getting out of this. The way the flames dance, I can see the little girl’s face again. Her small eyes rounded in terror. The rest of her family’s faces flash in my memory, along with my mother and brother. All of their screams linger at the edge of my consciousness. I clench my shaking hands around my ears as they grow louder and closer, transforming from screams into a chant.

Fire incarnate. Flame in flesh. Blood of power.

Fire incarnate. Flame in flesh. Blood of power.

Fire incarnate. Flame in flesh. Blood of power.

Fixating on the flames, I wait for them to morph from red to blue, as they always do in my nightmares. I drop my hands from my ears, slowly succumbing to the madness of the chanted words. I’m swept into an out of body experience. Hypnotized, and against my own volition, I reach my hand out toward the fire. Cole’s ring on my finger is the only confirmation it’s actually my hand. My fingertips brush the edge of the wicked flame when a shadowy silhouette emerges from behind the wall of fire. The figures morph until I recognize the sway of steps, and the angled set of broad shoulders.

I back away, and Cole bursts through the fire, cradling Archie, both of them doused in blood. Darian steps through the flames right behind him, his sword drawn as he surveys the outskirts of Blackfell.

“Is he okay?” I breathe, rising to my feet.

Archie slowly blinks open his eyes and peers up at Cole, his voice raspy. “Y-you….you came back for me?”

Cole smiles sweetly and nods. “Of course, I did. I’d never leave you behind. You’re the best soldier we have.”

Darian’s shoulder clips the edge of mine as he passes the three of us.

Maybe it was a cheap shot to mention his sister…but I breathe a sigh of relief it worked. We return to the squad and rescued civilians, and I dress Archie’s injured arm, wrapping it tight and giving him a vial for the pain. I assess the rest of the squad and civilians. We’ve lost a handful of men and women in battle. Others that have survived require splints and gauze.

After I’ve tended to who I can, Cole splits us into three groups. Darian’s to lead the front of the pack. Archie and I will be in the center group with the civilians and others who are wounded. And Cole will fall to the back group with Melaina, Gavin, and Nolan. I instruct Daeja to wait in the forest until we’ve gone far enough ahead for her to follow us back to camp.

Archie insists he can hobble back to the outpost on his own but leans against me for support. I loop my arm around his waist to brace him, catching him every time he stumbles.

“Did you injure your leg?” I pause and crouch to search him for any stab wounds or blood I might have missed earlier.

He winces as I brush his thigh. “I was trapped under a column. I feel more dizzy than anything.”

“It’s probably from the blood loss. Are you sure you’ll be okay to walk back the whole way?”

His voice cracks. “Yeah, totally fine.”

I narrow my eyes at him but don’t push him. “You were trapped under a column?”

“Yeah, the fire grew so fast. I’ve never seen anything like it. The buildings started to collapse, and as I tried to escape, part of a column fell on me.”

I stand. “Did you see any dragons?”

“No. Did you? I saw you were there—saw you throw that dagger...I’m pretty sure you saved my life. Where did you disappear off to? I never saw you again.”

“I helped the rest of the civilians get out.” It’s not a complete lie but still uncomfortable to present to Archie nonetheless.

It’s a long walk back to camp at our pace, and by the midway point, we pause to let Archie catch his breath. Cole offers to carry him the rest of the way, but Archie declines—the stubborn thing. Cole directs Darian to switch spots with me, but I refuse to leave Archie alone with Darian. Instead, Archie wraps his arms around both mine and Darian’s neck for support. Darian, surprisingly, hadn’t said a single thing the entire way back to camp. As soon as we get Archie down into a bed in the healer’s quadrant, Darian departs without a word. A twinge of regret surfaces inside of me for what I said to him about his sister. My thoughts flicker over to my brother for a moment, before I block it all out.

Several beds around us have injured patients, blood smearing their skin and clothing, limbs and torsos wrapped in linens. The heavy scent of alcohol stings my nose—reminding me of Marge’s explanation as to why we have so many bottles of liquor in the healer’s quadrant. Not only does it help with pain relief, but it also disinfects wounds.

Marge finishes wrapping a woman’s ankle before shuffling over to Archie and me. “Are there any others?”

I tuck my hair back behind my ear. “I’m not sure. We might be the last. I bandaged and wrapped who I could before we returned.”

Together, Marge and I clean the gash on Archie’s arm. Marge then begins to stitch up the wound. He throws his head back, wriggling through the pain.

“Boy, if you don’t hold still I won’t be able to stitch this properly,” Marge warns.

“Does that mean it’ll leave a cool scar?” Archie asks through gritted teeth.

“Means you might lose your whole arm if you don’t sit still,” she hisses.

He stiffens, squeezing his eyes shut and quiets. I muffle a laugh, knowing it was a slight over-exaggeration by Marge. The door creaks open, and in walks Melaina cradling an arm.

Her brown eyes flick up to meet mine as she breathes. “Hi…”

I help her settle into the bed next to Archie as Marge finishes stitching his wound closed.

Out of my periphery, Archie shifts to sit up a little straighter. He tosses a nonchalant glance our way. “Melaina, right?”

She nods with a slight smile. “Yes.”

“Archie Stormbane.” There’s a certainty to his voice I’ve yet to witness—as if he’s mustering every ounce of control into those two words. Feigning confidence.

Marge finishes stitching Archie’s arm and hobbles over to Melaina. “How can we help you, Melaina?”

Melaina flinches, dumbfounded. “I…umm, seem to have done something to my arm. I was hoping someone could take a look.”

With Marge’s instruction, I sit next to Archie to dress his newly-stitched wound.

Marge twists and turns Melaina’s arm, her eyes narrowing with each flicker of movement. “Are you sure this hurts? I don’t see any cuts, bruises, or lacerations. And you don’t seem to flinch any which way I move it.”

A faint blush creeps onto Melaina’s cheeks, and she flinches. “I—I guess it kind of hurts like that.”

But her delayed reaction makes me turn away toward Archie to hide a smile. She’s faking her injury, for whatever reason. My eyes connect with Archie’s, and I have a sneaking suspicion I might know why.

Marge catches on too, as she rakes Melaina with a head-to-toe glare. “Well, you seem fine to me. Come back if it hurts again. We’ve got enough to do here.”

She brushes Melaina out the door and turns back to me and Archie, who’s watching Melaina leave. Marge pauses, resting her hands on her hips as she flicks a look back and forth between Archie and me.

“Well?” she challenges.

I blink, realizing I haven’t quite finished wrapping Archie’s arm and spin the fabric around his arm frantically. Archie drags his gaze down to my working hands, clearly not wanting to make eye contact with Marge.

I pat Archie’s shoulder. “There you go, Arch. All done.”

He pulls up his arm, flexing the bicep and winces at the motion.

I swat his arm down by the wrist. “Don’t do that, you’ll aggravate the stitches. Now…let’s take a look at your leg.”

“Are you asking me to take my pants off?” His cheeks redden. “Because I’m fine. Truly.”

“Would you rather Marge look?” I ask.

Too late—Marge closes in.

He stiffens, his wide eyes flicking back to me with a shake of his head. “This is so embarrassing...”

“Nonsense! It’s part of our job,” I encourage.

With a defeated sigh, he glances away from us as he shimmies his trousers down so we can assess his thigh. Rich purple and black rings mottle his pale skin. Marge lifts his leg and shifts it side to side, round and round, despite his grunts.

Marge hands him a vial of green liquid. “I don’t think it’s broken. Might be badly bruised. But drink this, and take it easy for the next week. You’ve suffered a lot of blood loss from that cut on your arm.” She darts a look over to me. “Katerina, can you take him back to his room? I want to keep the beds open in case any other patients come in.”

By the time Archie and I step out into camp, the rush of adrenaline wears and wanes, leaving a dragging exhaustion weighing down each of my steps. Dawn can’t be more than a few hours away. Carlisle leads the Blackfell civilians to the barracks, while Cole gathers several patrols to perimeter the area. Lucky for us, it seems like Blackfell wasn’t a trap. Yet still, a nervous buzz lingers in camp.

“Daeja, are you back at the lake? It looks like they are doubling down on patrols. I’m sure Cole will keep the patrols off the southern part of the lake, but just in case, stick to the shadows.”

She yawns, the sound splitting my ears. “Got it. I planned on sleeping, anyway. I’m quite tired.”

“You helped me save all of those civilians tonight.” And yet, they would never know a dragon was the reason I was able to free them. Had it only been me, I likely wouldn’t have been able to escape the rebel holding them hostage. “And you saved me...thank you.”

“Always. You know, you save me every day, too.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. “I’ll come see you tomorrow night, once the initial buzz of the battle wears down.”

I hobble along with Archie into his tent, and I help him into bed, unlacing his boots and ripping them off his feet.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yes. Definitely. I was a little scared but…feign confidence, remember?”

I glance up at him and stand. “Archie, don’t listen to me. I don’t know what I’m saying half the time.”

“I think you know a lot more than what you’re saying.”

I arch an eyebrow at him, prompting him to explain.

“I thought I was going to die. I watched as everyone disappeared into the distance. No one could hear me screaming for help, and the flames got closer and closer. And just as I came to accept my fate, Cole came back…for me. I should have died.”

I shake my head. “No, you shouldn’t have died. And you didn’t.”

“I didn’t…” He breathes, as if trying to accept the reality of it.

I pat his knee with a smile. “And I’m glad you didn’t.”

He mirrors my grin, but it fails to touch his eyes. “Me too…it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been lying to you. To everyone.”

I stiffen. “About…what?”

His head sinks, like he’s been at war with himself for ages and actively avoiding my eye contact. “My name isn’t actually Archie...”

I try not to let my thoughts run away, but my pulse skitters. “Oh?”

“Yeah…it’s...it’s Archibald.”

I blink at the anticipation for something so small and…unsurprising. Guilt slams into me at how much I’ve been lying to him. Here he was, remorseful for something as simple as his legal name, and yet I hide my true identity from him. Hiding an enormous dragon-sized secret from him.

He nods, downcast with guilt as he peers up at me. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just that, I always thought Archie sounded so badass. Archibald is so…childish. Tame. It didn’t sound like a soldier.”

I sit on the bed next to him slowly. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

He’s playing with his fingers, knotting them over and over. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

I rest my hand on his. “I promise, I won’t.”

“Thank you.” He breathes, and his fidgeting hands calm underneath mine. “It’s been eating me alive for a long time. I haven’t told anyone else.”

I smile. “I’m honored to be the only one you’ve shared it with. I’ll take it with me to the grave.”

“There’s...one other thing.”

I can’t help but narrow my eyes in suspicion.

He grimaces. “I...I sort of told my ma and pa I was promoted to captain.”

“What? Archie—”

“Yeah, I know! I…it’s just that they have always been so proud of my brothers. I’ve always been the one with the least success. I could never make it in war with throwing knives. And my brothers have been rising in the ranks and…it just…happened. I know I shouldn’t have.” He buries his face in his hands.

“Shh, it’s okay, Arch. You just wanted your parents to be proud.” I rub a hand up and down his uninjured arm before squeezing his shoulder.

He unveils his face. Tears glisten at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill down. “I just feel like I’ve been living a lie. All I’ve ever wanted was to make them proud. As soon as I turned eighteen I enlisted. It’s been years. I’ve been trying to train and become better at sword fighting, but my training hasn’t been what I thought it would be. I thought I would’ve been promoted to Arterias by now. I feel like I’m nothing but a let down.”

My fists clench. He doesn’t have to mention Darian for me to know why his training has been less than ideal.

“You’re not a let down, Arch. We’ll work on it. I’ll do everything in my power to help you.” I lock eyes with him, willing him to listen to me. “Look. I’m proud of you. Cole is proud of you.”

He snorts, looking away from me. “Cole had to save me. He had to turn back and risk his life and everyone else’s to save me.”

“Yes, but you saved me first.”

A powerful silence settles between us, but he still won’t look my way.

I grab his chin, turning his face toward me. “You saved me, Archie. No one else would’ve been able to do that. Cole couldn’t. The rest of the squad couldn’t. But you did. That rebel would have slit my throat in the forest if you hadn’t stepped in.”

The words land and stick, his panicked breath slowing as he processes my words. The watery glaze of his eyes lessens.

“You saved me,” I repeat, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He melts into my embrace, leaning his forehead into my shoulder.

“I’m proud of you,” I whisper. Pulling back away from him, I wipe a stray tear from his cheek. “Now, get some rest because you’re going to need it to recover if we’re going to get you promoted to Arterias.”

He smiles and dips his head. “Thank you, Kat. You’re a true friend.”

I return to the healer’s quadrant. It’s oddly silent, and there’s less patients than when I left with Archie.

“No one else came?” I ask Marge.

“A few, but you did such a good job, not much else was needed,” she answers.

I swallow, a smile tugging at my lips at her subtle praise.

“Come here,” she commands, patting an empty bed.

I obey and take a seat. She brushes a clean rag to my forehead, and I wince as pain sizzles in my skin. The rag comes back bloody as she blots my head. I must have been injured at some point, though I don’t recall a moment I had been.

“This is a little deeper than I expected. Let’s stitch it up, just in case.” Marge retrieves the materials and lowers a needle into the flame of a candle.

I watch her with interest and a slight nervousness, but I’m unable to pinpoint if the root cause is the needle or flame.

She must notice how wide my eyes get because her expression softens as she murmurs, “Not a big fan of needles?”

“No,” I confess, though not fully.

“The trick is to look away. If you can’t see it…” her fingers rest on my forehead in preparation, “...you can’t feel it as much.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I whisper. The needle pierces my flesh, the sharp pain pricking my forehead. I focus on the candle resting on the counter instead, absorbed by the flickering flame.

“Fear accentuates pain. So if you don’t pay attention to the emotion, you’re better off to process the sensation.” She stitches me up quickly, then leans back to look me in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

The question catches me off guard. I flinch, pulled out of a haze. “I—I think so.”

I try to not think of Cole and the way his eyes burned. The splatter of blood against his face, and the dead man’s flesh squelching under his blow, again and again. Nor how close we got to losing Archie. I draw in a deep breath, pushing the racing thoughts back into a box and closing the lid.

Marge rests a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you head back to your room and get a good night’s rest? You’re dismissed for tomorrow. I’ll take care of any stragglers that come in.”

I shake my head, opening my mouth to argue with her.

She pats me. “It’s an order, Katerina. Go.”

By the time I get to my room, I collapse into my bed, boots on and all.

My emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion pulled me into a dreamless, dark sleep. When I woke in the morning, I was almost more tired than I had been before I slept. I skip breakfast and slip off toward the lake, longing to be near Daeja.

Beams of sunlight cast blinding sparks of light on the lake’s surface through the tree line. Birds dip and skim across the scattered waves. Daeja approaches me, her footfalls heavy on the forest floor, and her tail swishing back and forth.

A trilling croak tears our attention to the shore.

Daeja flinches, mere feet away from me as she swivels toward the sound. A toad stares at us with glassy black eyes, leaping a few paces toward us. Daeja’s lips curl back to reveal razor-sharp fangs, a threatened hiss escaping from her as she flares her wings. The toad leaps forward again, its throat expanding with another croak. Daeja scurries behind me, fear emanating from her.

I chuckle, turning to her and patting her head. “ It’s just a toad. It won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes narrow at the creature, her nostrils flaring as the toad’s throat expands again. The toad takes another leap forward, just a few feet from us now. Daeja’s frozen behind me.

“It’s likely more afraid of you, than you are of it.” I crouch down in an attempt to show her there’s no need to be afraid.

Daeja slides out from behind me, her eyes determined. She sucks in a loud breath and attempts to imitate the toad by inflating her throat. The toad blinks but doesn’t move.

Daeja lowers her head a few inches above the ground, glaring at the toad and blows. The toad flips over before scrambling to its webbed feet and bounding back off toward the lake.

I giggle, sitting down and patting Daeja’s thick neck. She never ceases to make me laugh.

She turns away from me and backs up to sit on my lap. Except she’s far too big now, and I roll away before she can crush me under her weight. Her catlike pupils expand in realization, and instead, she rests beside me and lays her chin on my lap. I stroke the bony ridge of her nose, each black scale cool against my fingertips. Her slanted eyes flutter closed, and a content purr rumbles in her chest. Trailing my fingers up to the crown of her head, I brush her horns, now longer and thicker than my arm.

The sunlight glints off the silver of Cole’s ring around my finger. A reminder I haven’t seen him since we returned from Blackfell. My stomach flips—I’m unable to decipher whether it's because I’m haunted by the memory of him beating the rebel to death or because of how close I came to losing him.

But one thing is for certain—we have to get out of Arterias. And if I can steal Darian’s map, perhaps we don’t need to wait until Cole receives one.

Daeja’s eyes flash open, her pupils expanding and narrowing back down to slits.

“What is it?”

“Do you hear that?”

I still. An uneven thud of footsteps approaches behind us. My breath catches, and I scramble to my feet as Daeja rises. I tap two fingers to the side of her neck. She vanishes for a brief moment but flickers back into view, the strenuous events from yesterday having drained her energy. Her wide eyes meet mine.

I point toward the trees. “ Go, hide!”

She dashes off and slinks behind a thick grouping of trees. Except...as she stills behind a trunk, she’s too wide. Her tail and the edges of her horns peek out from the cover of the tree. I rush toward her, motioning her to squeeze tighter behind the tree’s silhouette, but it’s no use.

A squeak comes from behind us. “Shit!”

Shit.

I turn. Archie’s mouth is dropped open in a silent gasp, and his hand fumbles at his side for his dagger. His face is ghost white, his eyes wide as he gawks at Daeja. I race toward him before he can run off and alert everyone.

He staggers forward, sweeping me behind him, and raises the dagger. “Kat, run!”

Terror floods my veins. He clenches the dagger in his non-dominant hand, considering his throwing arm was the one injured last night. He might be inaccurate and hit her. Or be accurate enough to hit her. Slingshotting forward, I whip his arm down and tear the dagger from his grip before he can throw it.

He hisses, “What are you—”

Daeja slinks out from behind the trees and growls. The sound reverberates around us, and birds from nearby trees shoot into the air with a cry.

“Stop, you’ll scare him.”

“That’s the point.” She bristles as she raises her head and flares her wings, a silent snarl curling her lips.

“We don’t want him scared!” I throw her a warning glare. “ He’s a friend. He’s safe.”

Archie screams and charges toward Daeja with hobbled steps as he pulls another dagger from his side, waving it in the air.

“Archie, stop !” I dash in front of him, blocking his path to Daeja.

He pauses, his hand still raised with the dagger. Those brown eyes flick between me and Daeja. “What are you doing!”

Daeja stalks forward from behind me and lowers her chin onto my shoulder. Watching Archie, I reach a hand up and pet Daeja’s cheek.

Archie’s eyes grow even wider, and he drops the dagger. “You…you have a dragon !”

“Daeja, meet Archie.”

Daeja’s black tongue licks over her muzzle in anticipation. Her intentions are as apparent to me as if they were my own.

“No, no. Meet—not meat.”

“A clear misunderstanding,” she grumbles.

“And Archie, this is Daeja. I need you to swear you won’t tell anyone—”

“How did you even...why—” He sighs and takes a slow step backwards, betrayal glistening in his brown eyes. “I thought we were friends. How could you not tell me?”

Something inside my chest weakens as I recognize his misery. I dare a few steps forward and reach out for him. “We are friends, Arch—”

He takes another step back to avoid my touch, shaking his head.

“Please. Don’t tell anyone,” I plead again, my voice weak.

“I-I can’t…”

Daeja chuffs from above me. “ I’ll eat him. No body—no worries.”

“No eating, Daeja! You’re not helping!”

“She’s just a baby. I’m taking her to the Dragon Lands to be with her kind. I’m going to set her free,” I explain.

“A baby? How is she considered a baby, Kat?” He motions up toward her. “Look at her!”

He has a fair point. She’s not as small as she used to be, and I could only guess how much bigger she will get.

My heart pounds in my ears, my fingers fidget around his dagger I confiscated earlier. “Archie, please. I’m begging you.”

The memory of the two men hanging from the tower replays in my mind. How they begged to explain their situation. I couldn’t imagine it would have been as damning as the one we’re in now. The fate of those two men would become my own. Possibly, even Archie’s demise, if he was found to have kept Daeja a secret. By his calculated focus and rigid stance, he’s weighing it, too.

Shit, I didn’t want any of this. Maybe we should go now, save all of us from the impending possibilities. Forget the map.

Archie shakes his head. “Who else knows?”

The question has me dumbfounded. If he finds out Cole knows, will he be more convinced to keep Daeja a secret, considering Cole saved his life? But I can’t risk Cole—I can’t pull him into this. If Archie decides to report us to the King, at least Daeja and I can fly to the Dragon Lands. But Cole would be stuck here and executed for treason.

Yet, lying to Archie, my friend, feels traitorous in itself. I can trust him… can’t I?

“Nobody,” I answer.

“Nobody?” he challenges.

Daeja leans forward and snorts, the air blasting Archie’s hair out of his face. It’s enough to distract him from my inability to answer his question.

I take the opportunity to close the space between Archie and I. Taking a leap of faith, I place his dagger back into his hand and wrap my fingers around his. “Archie, please. If our friendship means anything…” My eyes search his in desperation. “We will be gone by the end of the month. You won’t even have to worry about keeping the secret for long. Please, promise me.”

He glances down at our hands. “I...I promise I won’t say anything.”

I sigh and sag in relief. “Thank you.”

He nods reluctantly and turns away, pulling his hand out from my grasp.

“Wait, where are you going?” I call after him.

“Back to camp,” he responds as he sheathes his dagger.

“You’re…upset with me?”

He stops mid-step. “I trusted you. I told you all of my secrets.”

“I’m sorry, Arch. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to keep you safe.”

He snorts, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Well, it’s too late for that. If they take you down, I’m going with you.”

A snowstorm of emotions flurries inside my heart. I’m overwhelmingly honored by his loyalty, despite the risk of keeping such a massive secret. The thought that my decisions may very well lead to his demise is equally as terrifying.

He grabs the second dagger he dropped to the ground before disappearing into the forest toward the outpost.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whisper, hoping it’s a promise I can actually keep.