Warrior of the Wild

Soren isn’t looking at me, though. He takes another look over the log, and I push against his stomach, trying to get him off me.

He doesn’t budge, and a second later, a blur of brown vaults over the log we hide behind. I catch a glimpse of the underbelly. Tree-bark skin like the gunda, but unlike the gunda, it has four long legs that end in clawed paws. A tail whisks out behind it. It hits the ground several feet ahead of us and takes off running. Another goat ahead looks up from the stream in time to see the enormous cat and bolts with the feline close at its heels.

When they’re both long out of sight, I say, “Next time, get off me so I can help you fight it.”

“Sorry, I was too busy thinking about how I would get my ax off my back without it noticing.”

I shake my head. At first, I think to be angry with him, but then I realize I would have done the same thing. I would have protected whoever was next to me first.

It’s a warrior’s instinct.

“I vote we put some distance between us and that thing.” Soren stands and reaches a hand down to me.

I take it.

“Did you know cats could get that big?” he asks.

“No,” I answer. There are a few kinds in the wild, but they’re small, preying on rodents and valder. Some would even dare to come into the villages at night. They’re harmless to people unless they feel threatened.

As we take to hiking once more, Soren looks over his shoulder frequently.

“If it caught the goat, it will be detained for some time, I’m sure.”

“It’s probably not the only cat on the mountain.”

Seemingly without even thinking about it, Soren reaches for my hand.

And this time, there is no overthinking. This time, there is only a rush of heat where our hands meet.

With Torrin, everything was new. My skin tingled at his touch, a giddy sensation would take over my stomach. I was so eager to experience everything for the first time.

But Soren …

He put his own life at risk to help me get away from the god. He brought me food when he knew I must be close to running out, even showed me how I could obtain more on my own. He recognized that I didn’t like accepting help from others, and he challenged me.

I like that.

I like him.

It’s not about giving in to the first boy who ever acted interested.

It’s about being interested in the boy who is finally worth it.

Soren was interested in me from the first time we met. He made that clear, but once he realized how that made me uncomfortable, he stopped. He found less obvious ways to be near me, to help me.

And now I find myself wanting to be for him what he is to me.





CHAPTER

18

As the day grows later, we decide to stop and figure out how we’re going to best survive the night.

“Climbing up a tree won’t help us this time,” Soren says. “Cats clearly love heights.”

Eventually, we find a section of the mountain so steep, it’s practically a wall, and it serves as an excellent cover for our backs.

“This will work great,” I say.

Soren and I get to work on building a fort similar to the one I first built in the wild. We use our axes to cut and shape tree branches. We prop them against the rock wall, leaving a small hollow underneath. It takes only an hour to get everything just right, piling on the branches so thickly that very little light can get in. It will certainly keep any animals from spotting us. A thick strip of fallen bark serves as a makeshift door. Bless the wild for all the sturdy wood.

I cover the rough ground inside our shelter with as many leaves as I can find, using only the ones from trees I recognize to be safe. Some leaves in the wild sting to the touch. Others give off an aroma that attracts bugs. And some release their pigment and stain the skin. Since none of that is ideal, I stick to what I know.

Even after that, the ground is still so very hard.

“Maybe we should lie atop the blankets,” I suggest.

“The night will grow too cold.” Soren pauses. “We could share. Put one blanket below both of us and the other on top.”

“All right.”

We eat a dinner of dried meat and berries outside before turning in for the night. Our lean-to is cozy. There’s barely enough room for us to lie side by side. It’s so much more practical for us to share the blankets than for us to each have our own.

We squish our packs and axes down by our feet, and then Soren pulls the top blanket over the two of us. I’m scooted over just far enough that there’s a small gap between Soren’s body and mine.

Even then, I’m far too aware of his body. His hand is only an inch from mine. He smells of pine and freshly churned dirt, which I wouldn’t have thought would be intoxicating, but it is. I sense the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, hear him shift as he tries to get more comfortable.

Despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements and Soren’s presence, I drift off eventually, but sometime in the night, I wake, shivering. The elevation has brought with it a distinct chill.

But at my side, I can feel a wave of heat radiating off Soren. He’s like a fire. How is that even possible?

I try not to wake him as I scoot over, pressing my front to his back. Heat curls into my arms, and I sigh at the warmth.

But I think I woke Soren.

A slight hitch in his deep breaths is the only outward sign.

He doesn’t say anything, so I ask, “Is this okay? Sorry to wake you, I’m just so cold.”

He rolls toward me, and I back up against that rock wall, giving him room to move.

“Come here,” he says when he’s facing toward me. I’m unsure at first, but the promise of warmth is too much to resist.

“Turn around,” he says, and I realize why as soon as I do. We fit so snugly with my back pressed to his front. His legs curve against mine. One of his arms rests under my head, giving me a pillow, while the other wraps around my front to press me even closer to him.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mmm,” I say. I’m already starting to drift off, I’m so comfortable.

There’s the lightest pressure on the back of my neck. His lips, I think. But I’m already so far gone, I can’t be sure.



* * *



AN OBNOXIOUS LIGHT DARTS across my eyelids. I open them only to be momentarily blinded. A small gap in the branches allows a beam of sun right into my face. I adjust my neck, trying to get my head at a better angle, when I realize what’s in front of me.

Soren.

I must have rolled over in the night. His face is inches from mine, our breath mingling. His lashes are draped over his eyes, his face completely relaxed in sleep.

I realize just how much I like that face, once I’m free to look at it so openly. The scars from warrior training suit him, giving him a roguish look. He has a heavy brow, a smooth forehead with brown locks falling across it, a nose that might be a bit too small for his face, but it’s hardly noticeable with such perfect-looking lips.

I’m struck with the desire to trace them with a finger, which surprises me. Must be because it’s morning—a sleep-addled brain clouds judgment.

I pat Soren on the shoulder instead. “Wake up. We should get moving.”

He doesn’t move, so I hit him a bit harder.

He jolts awake, sitting up too fast. His head smacks against one of the branches overhead.

“Ow,” he says, rubbing his head.

“Sorry. You were out like a rock.”

“I … had a hard time falling back asleep.”

That would be my fault. “I shouldn’t have woken you last night.”

“It’s fine. Now we’ll know how to start out tonight. Then you won’t have to wake me.”

My cheeks warm at the prospect. I shove aside the makeshift door of our lean-to and stretch in the morning air. It is still cool, but the morning is already alive with movement. Lizards up in the trees snort. Birds in the distance call to one another. Against the rock wall, I barely catch sight of camouflaged moths, the only giveaway being the outline of their gray wings overlapping the slate. It’s a beautiful day already, and it’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking there is no real threat on the mountain.