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Worry tightened like a rope around my chest. Her head had been hurting more the deeper we traveled through the forest even with the serum Reuben made sure she had whenever she asked. The pain seemed to significantly worsen when she lost grip of her magic, too, which didn’t help. I sent a wordless prayer to Persynthia that she might give Amethyst some reprieve as we made our way to the center of the forming camp where the guard had finished arranging our personal tent. She didn’t say a word as I helped her settle on a canvas James and Emma had set just beyond the tent’s entrance.

The help wasn’t something she really needed at this point with her ankle fully mended, but she didn’t protest and request distance. Now, the routine had become so normal over the last few days, she didn’t resist or stiffen at all anymore. If our situation were different, I’d bask in the reality she was settling in despite the rough traveling. Instead, it was just one more nail driving into my breastbone and making it painful to breathe.

Tonight, her touch lingered on my arm. Her fingers trailed down my wrist and then the back of my hand, so light I could almost pretend I’d imagined them. Her orange and vanilla scent swirled around me. My breath caught. Before I could hope to tamp down my own reaction, my scent pulsed out, swallowing hers until they blended together into a fragrance I never wanted to forget. Her cheeks flushed again as her lips parted the barest amount.

“There’s talks of making a soup tonight if the guard manages to hunt some game successfully,” Shelby said from behind me. “But I thought you’d want something smaller until then since the serum has been hurting your stomach.”

Her voice ripped me from the moment. I took a step back and turned toward where Shelby approached, a small satchel from one of her saddlebags in her grip. She already had one of the fire jars slung across her body, the small glass full of flame resting against her hip and shining brightly. She’d pulled her hair from the braided coronet she typically wore, and the auburn waves tumbled down her back, past her waist.

She hesitated, looking first at me and then Amethyst. Whatever she saw had her holding out the satchel to me with a small smile and then turning on her feet without a farewell at all. Amethyst’s chuckle was breathless. She had her head propped on her knees when I focused on her again, her arms wrapped around her legs, her eyes closed. The Mark was stark against her skin, nearly framed by the finger bracelet I’d given her in Wolfrest, and my stomach twisted. I arranged myself beside her on the canvas and pulled one of the oat bars from the satchel. Her eyes flickered closed as she took the first bite.

That possessiveness clawed a bit deeper. I should fight it, and yet…

I pitched my voice low enough no one would overhear us.

“Tell me about your Arizona,” I said.

Her eyes snapped open. “What?”

“That’s what you called it on the pass.” I kept my tone light. “Where you are from, yes? Arizona?”

She nodded once.

“Tell me about it. What is it like?”

She stared at me like she was trying to see into my very soul. I kept intentionally relaxed and made sure none of the desperate, riotous mix of dread and desire and frustration was visible. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

“It’s… warm,” she said, just as quiet as my own words. “Even in the winter. It’s… it’s a desert, technically, but people figured out ways to bring in water from rivers far away and so many trees have been planted that it doesn’t always feel like one. Just on the hottest days in the summer when it’s impossible to be outside because of it.”

“Like Tousir,” I murmured. “They have a few cities where they have brought the water from the rivers into the canyons, away from the harshest of the heat.”

“Canyons?”

I nodded. “Most of Tousir’s people live along the banks of the large twin rivers, but a subsection of them live in the desert that sits in the middle. That’s where the canyons are.”

She hummed, low enough I wasn’t sure she was aware she did so.

“There are a lot of people,” she said. “Not everywhere, but in the city where we lived there were. Buildings taller than the trees with large glass windows that let you see far into the distance, across the other, smaller buildings. And… the city never really slept. Many were working at night or were out at restaurants and other places. In the summer, when the heat was the worst, a lot of people would choose to not do much until the sun had set.” She traced one of the blue stones in the bracelet. “And there was so much noise. All the time. People shouting and laughing, alarms that would be shrill and hurt my ears. It’s nearly silent here in comparison.”

There was a stretch of quiet as she took another bite of the bar, only the low murmuring of the others gathering around the fire pit at the edge of camp. She didn’t move her head at all as she ate, and I knew her eyes must be aching from the improper spell. I wordlessly pulled the vial of serum and offered it to her, but she only waved it away.

“What of your family?” I asked. “You came with your sister. Who will be with you when you return? Who did you leave behind?”

Pain flashed in her eyes, there for a moment and then gone, tucked away so quickly I might have assumed I imagined it if not for the catch of her breath and the flash of her scent that sang of an old hurt. She swallowed heavily and then shrugged.

“It’s… just Sloane. It’s always been just us.”

Her voice broke on the last word, belying her calm façade. I wanted to wrap my arm around her, pull her into me until my scent and touch could take away the old pain of whatever had happened to her as a child to leave her so alone. I settled for circling her wrist and running my thumb over the back of her hand. The faintest bit of orange cocooned me.

Those roots dug deeper, twisted harder. I tried to find something else to ask to distract me.

“You were a barkeep, right?”

“It’s not called that anymore,” she admitted, “but yes.”

“What’s it called?”

“Um…”