She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He stroked her waist with his thumb in a steady, slow rhythm. “Feel that? Focus on that and only that. Shut everything else out.”
Her breaths were loud and labored, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he could pull her back. The violet glow from beneath her palms grew into a sweltering heat. He ground his teeth to keep from reacting to the pain. Then her gasps began to hitch less, and the tension in her frame softened. The blaze in her palms cooled and faded.
Gemma’s grip on his arms released, the light from her tattoo dulling to a faint shimmer. She sagged back against him. “Thank you.”
“Always.” He kissed the side of her neck, letting his own heartbeat slow. “I guess we probably shouldn’t have sex for a while, huh?”
She snorted. “That’s a sad thought.”
“Hey, at least I can say I’m literally electrifying in bed.”
Gemma laughed, coaxing a wide grin onto his face. He loved that sound so much.
They dressed and slid under the blankets. Her back fit so perfectly against his chest. Christian closed his eyes and held her as if the act itself could keep her safe.
For the first time in weeks, he didn’t think about escape routes or the next fight. Tonight, she was here. And so was he.
When Gemma woke, Christian was lying on his stomach, one arm heavy across her waist, his breathing slow and even. In the soft glow of the battery lamp, the lines around his eyes seemed less sharp, and his brow was relaxed in a way she rarely saw when he was awake. The cot beneath them was barely big enough for them and a little uneven, but after weeks of sleeping in a shelter or in a prison cell, the cot felt indulgent.
For a moment, she thought about staying still and letting the morning drift by while she pretended the rest of the world wasn’t waiting outside. But the camp was stirring, and she might as well make use of herself if they were going to be sheltering here forthe foreseeable future.
She carefully slid out from under Christian’s arm. He made a small sound and shifted onto his side but didn’t wake. A soft smile on her face, Gemma couldn’t help but tuck him in a little.
The air outside her tent was thick and heavy, humid in a way that made her skin feel damp within minutes. A woman carrying a folded blanket passed by with a nod. Nearby, someone hammered metal in steady, measured strikes. The scent of algae broth drifted from the mess tent, but beneath it was something warmer—smokey and rich—that made her stomach twist with both hunger and curiosity.
After grabbing a bite to eat, Gemma followed the glow of the central lamps to the raised slab of the command tent. Nadine was bent over a table, scanning a map crowded with pencil lines and colored pins. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a loose bun, a few strands sticking to her temple in the heat.
“You’re awake early,” she said without looking at her.
“I’ve functioned on less sleep,” Gemma replied, managing a faint smile.
Nadine straightened, tapping the edge of the map. “We could really use your help in the med tent, if you’re up to it.”
Gemma nodded. At least it would give her something to do other than think about when she might spontaneously combust. “And Christian?”
“With Hawk, figuring out how to get you off this fucking planet. Imara’s already in the electronics tent. Come on. Let me introduce you to some people.”
They walked the perimeter together. Nadine pointed out the scaffolds around the edges and the people posted there as protection against any possible Systems infiltration. The lamps on their platforms cast pale halos across the stone walls, the glow catching on rifle barrels and glinting in watchful eyes.
In the armory, racks of rifles stood behind locked mesh, and crates stenciled with coded numbers were stacked in neat rows. In the communications tent, Imara sat alongside three others, listening in on the Systems and weeding through updates from the Dissent members planted in the streets of Perileos.
Every place and every person in the Dissent’s Tent City served a purpose.
As Nadine continued her introductory tour, Gemma’s heart softened toward her sister. Everywhere they went, people greeted Nadine with small smiles, nods, or a hand to the shoulder. Nadine didn’t just know them—she remembered things about them. Names, injuries, whose sister had just had a child or whose cousin had been lost on the surface.
Seeing Nadine like this, rooted and respected, reminded Gemma so much of the sister she’d known three years ago. The sister who Gemma had worked alongside in the infirmary, who she’d looked up to, who’d raised Gemma for half her life.
Tears pooled in her bottom lids. Could they ever be that close again after everything that had happened?
“What is it?” Nadine asked, pulling Gemma aside just before they’d returned to the command tent.
“It’s just . . . did you even consider what my life would be like after I thought you’d been murdered?”
Nadine sighed. “I did, but I felt like I had no choice. I told you—Reymond was planning something really big that would’ve started an all-out war with the Systems. A war we would’ve lost. I had to do something, but I hadn’t yet built my own following within the Dissent. So, yes, I used you to buy me some time.”
A tear slipped from Gemma’s eye, and she wiped it away furiously. “Seriously? Those were the worst years of my life, and you put me through that to ‘buy yourself some time?’”
