What am I doing?
I don’t know anything about myself. Don’t know if the pull I felt earlier connects me to something dangerous, something that could threaten her simply by proximity.
I should wake her. Should maintain distance until I understand the nature of my own wrongness.
Instead, I adjust my hold slightly. Make sure the cloak covers her completely. Let my hand rest where it wants to—protective, possessive, wrapped around her hip like I have every right to touch her this way.
Outside, wind howls across exposed rock. The fire burns low, but steady.
And I keep watch.
Not just for threats approaching from below.
But for answers I’m not sure I want to find.
Chapter 9
Mara
Something pulls me from sleep—words, harsh and guttural, nothing like English or Romanian or anything I’ve heard before.
I’m wrapped around K like a vine, face pressed against his chest, one leg hooked over his. Somewhere in the night, survival cuddling turned into full-body contact, and now I’m basically draped across him like a blanket.
Heat floods my cheeks even before I’m fully conscious.
His voice comes again. Raw. Broken. Urgent syllables scraping from his throat like they hurt.
I push back slightly, enough to see his face in the dying firelight.
His whole body is rigid. Tense. Pain written across his features—brow furrowed, jaw tight, mouth forming words in that impossible language.
He’s dreaming. Trapped in something dark.
I should let him work through it. Should untangle myself and retreat to my side of the fire, let whatever nightmare has hold of him run its course.
But watching him suffer… I can’t.
“K.” I touch his shoulder gently. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
Nothing.
“K,” I say again.
His hand snaps around my wrist.
The grip is firm but not painful. Controlled even in sleep. His eyes open—molten, almost luminous in the firelight.
He’s looking at me.
But not seeing me.
His gaze is unfocused, locked on something—or someone—I can’t see. The words continue spilling from his lips in that ancient-sounding language. Desperate. Pleading.
“K, it’s me. It’s Mara. You’re—”
He pulls.
No warning. No hesitation.
