She just watches.
And around her, a burst of chaos explodes like a firework. Only, the firework is human captives.
It’s as though I just blinked and they appeared.
Chin touched to my shoulder, I watch as they rush around the fallen branches, collecting what they can for firewood.
Each one of them is tattered.
Before that thought can take root, the foliage under my boots wrenches me back around, facing the steps I take out of the clearing, and into the treeline.
The rope tugs me along.
The fatigue that has blanketed me for hours is suddenly ripped off with his direction—
Away from the rest of the unit.
My breath shudders. It starts to tremble.
The ice in my chest stirs, my heart thumping through it.
My knees lift with every staggered step behind him. The foliage is too dense, the snow powdered around is too thick.
If he was going any faster, there’s no doubt about it, I would either collapse or face-plant.
But his pace is easy between the trees, winding and weaving—until his boots halt at a particularly thick trunk.
Without a look at me, he rams the torch down into the earth. Impaled, it stands stiff and sturdy.
My lashes flutter at the show of strength.
The cold warrior turns on me as he draws the strap of his satchel over his head. The movement dishevels some strands of pale hair, and I watch them fall over his brow.
He lets the satchel hit the foliage with a faint thump before he’s luring the rope off his belt.
He lets that drop, too.
It thuds, soft, so soft, between our boots.
And I just… stare.
Blankly, I look at the rope, silken black coiling over snow-dusted earth, and it looks so much like a glossy snake.
It’s still bound to my wrists—but not to his belt.
I lift my frown to him.
A silent question, is he letting me go?
As if waiting for that inquisitive look, his cold eyes are on me already.
My mind is chugging to life.
Slow, but the realisation starts to sink in…
Heisletting me go.
But…
