“A fair exchange. You saved me first by jumping from the tree and letting them take you so that they forgot about me.” Her strides struck harder and she almost overtook me. I increased my pace to stay abreast with her. “Fool thing to do! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of you. There was no sense in both of us dying. Which is exactly what would have happened if I didn’t jump from that tree when I did.”
The ground grew more solid beneath our feet. Rocky and uneven. I scanned the hazy landscape, spotting rises and outcroppings ahead. Maybe we could find cover there.
“So you thought to make a grand sacrifice?” she snapped. “No one asked you to do that! I didn’t ask it of you! I don’t want anyone to die for me. Not even you.”
“Oh, but it’s a familiar concept, is it not?” I shot back, letting her feel my full temper. Gone was the moment of that kiss when we pushed aside every anger and betrayal. We were alive and safe for now, and our differences resurfaced with nowhere to hide. “Senselessly sacrificing yourself for others is something you’re only too willing to do?”
Her body stiffened. “It’s not senseless,” she whispered.
“Let’s consider that. Returning to Relhok and throwing yourself at the feet of Cullan so that he might lift his kill order on girls? How is that any different from me sacrificing myself for you?”
She paused for a moment and turned her face in my direction, her expression startled before she masked it and continued walking, her boots biting into the ground with her ire. “It’s not the same. Not the same at all.”
“It is,” I insisted over ragged breaths, struggling to keep up. I swallowed, fighting for stamina, cursing this maddening weakness that sucked and pulled at me.
“Very well then,” she snapped. “If it’s the same, then you understand about necessary sacrifices. You should understand why I need to go to Relhok City. Why I have to stop Cullan.” She halted, and I tried not to sigh my relief. Her pace was killing me.
I flexed my fingers, willing sensation back into my hand . . . sensation other than searing agony. She faced me as though she could see me, her liquid dark eyes flitting over me unseeingly. It was eerie the way I always felt exposed around her. Maybe now more than ever. I had nothing left to hide. No secrets to keep from her. This was just me standing before her.
“Cullan,” she repeated. “You know. Your father.”
The accusation was clear. Apparently we would have this conversation now. I inhaled a pained breath. “Luna, let’s not—”
“Why not? It’s the truth. He’s a tyrant. Brutal. Evil.”
All truths I would rather not waste precious time discussing. “He’s no father to me—”
“Except he is your father. A convenient bit of truth you kept to yourself.” She nodded as though willing that bitter fact to sink in and take root.
I stared at her for a long moment, futile words welling up inside me that would mean nothing to her. The only thing she felt was betrayal. My betrayal. It was too raw. Nothing I said would change that. At least not yet. It would take time. Time I didn’t have. Wincing, I shifted my arm. I couldn’t move my fingers anymore.
“You left me, Luna. You ran from me so that you could go after Cullan,” I reminded her in a hoarse whisper, determined to make her remember, make her care again. Only then could I sway her from the path she had chosen for herself. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? Waking up and finding you gone?”
“Don’t do that. He’s your father. Don’t call him Cullan like he’s not.”
“Who my father is doesn’t erase what we have.”
“Had,” she cut in, her voice quiet. “Had, Fowler. We don’t have that anymore. It’s finished. There are more important things. Matters of the heart are immaterial. You taught me that. Remember? Everyone dies. No one lasts in this world, and it’s pointless growing attached to anyone.”
“Luna, I didn’t—”
She swung around and kept moving, her pace swift. I fell in next to her, holding my burning arm close to my side.
I nodded to the outcropping not far to the right of us. “Rocks ahead. Let’s rest.”
“We should keep going.”
“I need to rest.” I hated that I had to say the words. In all our time together, I usually forged our path. I never complained of tiredness or weakness. It stung my pride that I had to do it now.
She sent me a peculiar look, clearly thinking the same thing, too. “Very well.”
We made our way to the rocks. I clambered up the incline ahead of her, grunting cold gusts of breath. At the top, I noticed a crevice between two rocks. I reached for her hand, briefly grabbing hold of her fingers with my good hand before she pulled away. The rejection stung. She wouldn’t even let me have that much of her.
Her chin shot up and she shook mud-stiffened hair back from her pale face. “I can manage.”