Mara needed warmth.
Mara needed rest.
Mara needed him.
“Get out of the wet clothes and into the bedding,” he told her.
She hesitated. “What about you?”
“I’ll take mine off and join you shortly. The biosuits need to be hung near the fire to dry. And I want to heat up some food.”
“I’m not sure I can eat right now,” she admitted, rubbing her arms.
“We both need sustenance,” he said firmly. “One more challenge, then the finale. We need the energy and the rest.”
She nodded, too tired to argue.
He turned away to give her privacy as she slipped into the tent. He could hear her movements—slow, clumsy, exhausted. The sound tightened something in his chest. She had pushed herself beyond her limits on that bridge. She had fought the storm, the wind, the collapsing boards, and her own fear. She had survived because she was strong… but also because she trusted him.
He hung their biosuits near the fire, watching steam rise from the fabric. The heat felt good on his skin, but he didn’t linger. He stripped quickly, the cold biting at him immediately, and carried the warm food packets to the tent.
He stepped inside—completely naked—and found Mara already curled in the bedding, her hair damp, her cheeks flushed from the fire’s warmth. Her eyes lifted to him, heavy with exhaustion but still bright. She looked at him as though he was the only solid thing in a world made of ice.
He liked that look.
He liked it too much.
But she was barely staying awake.
He sat beside her and handed her a food packet. “Eat, then sleep.”
She obeyed without protesting, taking slow bites. He ate beside her, forcing himself to swallow even though his stomach felt tight with fatigue. When they finished, he slid into the bedding beside her, pulling her close. Her body relaxed instantly against his.
There was no telling when the next challenge would begin. They needed every moment of rest they could steal.
He didn’t know how long he slept. Minutes, maybe. Or hours. His body was too drained to track time.
He stirred when Mara climbed over him, her weight shifting the bedding.
“Where are you going?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.
“I just need to go relieve myself,” she whispered.
“I’ll come with you.”
Her face pinkened. “No, I’ll be right back. Keep resting.”
He didn’t like it. Not after everything. Not with Blaine somewhere out there. But she was stubborn, and he was too tired to argue. He let his head fall back onto the bedding, eyes closing.
He must have drifted off again.
When he woke, the fire had burned lower… the wind had quieted… and Mara still hadn’t returned.
A cold spike of fear pierced through his exhaustion.
Instantly, he was alert.
He sat up, every muscle tense, every instinct roaring awake. The bedding fell away from him as he rose to his feet, scanning the clearing.
