It’s unnatural for her to be so quiet.

She hasn’t spoken since she shoved the journal into her pack and curled up against a stone for the night. I doubt either of us got much sleep after tossing and turning on damp bedrolls until dawn dappled the ground, sneaking beneath our stone fort to wake us.

I look over at her, hair slipping from its braid to fall around a tired face. Her eyes are shut against the light pouring over her, hands curled beneath her cheek.

“I know you’re awake.”

I whisper the words, aware that she’s paying close enough attention to me to hear them. And still, she doesn’t stir. I sigh, shifting closer to her until we are sharing the same air. “Don’t be stubborn, Gray. I know you’re listening.” I lift a hand to tuck a silver strand behind her ear before running my fingers down the length of her neck. “I’ve gotten rather good at reading your body language.”

That has her eyes flying open to grace me with a glare.

“Then you should know that I was ignoring you,” she mumbles against her hands.

“As you normally do.”

I watch her struggle to fight a smile, and the sight of it has me doing the same. “I just…” She runs a hand over her face, suddenly serious. “I just have a lot on my mind. Barely slept.”

I nod, understanding how she’s feeling. We both discovered things last night that have our minds reeling, lives unraveling. Everything I’ve been taught to believe, everything Father told me to be true, is suddenly crumbling beneath the weight of scribbled words. All that I’ve done, all that I’ve justified…

Now I am nothing more than a monster without a cause.

“I know,” I say quietly. “I was awake beside you.” I feel her eyes on me as I take my time gathering our damp shirts.

“You had just as much to think about, I’m sure.” She tilts her head, watching me closely. “I’ve always believed I wasn’t diseased; I just had no way to prove it. But you… This is all very new to you.”

“I blindly trusted the Healers,” I murmur. “Trusted men who have known me since I was a child. But it seems the real problem was still trusting my father after everything.” I almost laugh. “Then again, the journal could be wrong.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I continue quietly. “Which is why I intend to find out what the real truth is. Interrogate every Healer if I have to.” She’s quiet for a long time, allowing me to sit with my thoughts. “And I’m going to tell Kitt.”

The words slip past my lips before I can swallow them. She sits up slowly, watching me closely. “You’re going to show him the journal?”

I nod. “He should know.”

“Do you think it will make a difference?”

“I don’t know anymore,” I say softly, shaking my head at the ground. “I feel like I don’t know him anymore. He lived to please our father, and now that the king is gone before he feels he did…”

“He’s spiraling.”

“No, he’s fine,” I cut in sharply. “He’s going to be fine. He just needs to adjust, that’s all.” I look away, nodding to convince myself. “Kitt will come back to me.”

“Right,” she says quietly. I know she’s only agreeing to spare me from spiraling as well. Because the thought of Kitt as a crazed king keeps me up at night, keeps me hoping for my brother to return.

“We should get going.” I open her damp shirt and push it over her head.

She sputters, batting my hands away. “Thanks,” she mumbles, glaring as the shirt hangs limply around her neck.

“If you’d rather continue wearing that”—I nod to the skimpy tank cut low enough to be a distraction—“then, please, by all means.” I smile at the flush painting her cheeks.

“Don’t do that,” she huffs, pushing her arms through the sleeves and tugging the shirt down.

“Do what, darling?”

“That. The flirting.” Her eyes sweep over me accusingly. “The dimples.”

I laugh before I’m able to stop myself. “You know, I can’t really help that.”

“Help what?” She crosses her arms. “The flirting or the dimples?”

“Yes,” I say simply.

She shakes her head, hiding a smile while stuffing the bedrolls into her pack. “Well, no more. Of any of it.”

“Why?” I place a hand on the pack she’s fighting to throw over her shoulder. “Worried you’ve stopped hating me?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She leans in, face close. “I’m no longer diseased. Ordinaries were never diseased, actually. So, you have no excuse to hate what I am anymore.”

I blink at her. “I never said I hated what you are.”

“Fine. Hated what I wasn’t.”

I open my mouth, her name ready to fall from the tip of my tongue. But I stop myself, honoring her wish to not use it again. “Gray. When I look at you, I see a strength that no Elite possesses—and it called to me long before I ever discovered what you were or were not.”

Her eyes flick between mine, full of an emotion I can’t decipher. “And yet, you’re still dragging me back to Ilya.”

“Duty,” I murmur. “Not choice.”

“Right.” Her voice is stiff. She slings the pack over her shoulder and ducks out of the shelter. “So don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

I follow behind, pulling my shirt on before adding the bow across my chest. Puddles litter the damp ground, the morning sun reflecting off what the storm left behind. “I’m not the only one making this difficult.”

Her scoff echoes off the stones. “We wouldn’t even be in this position if you’d have let me disappear and start a new life.”

“Duty, remember?”

She stomps in front of me, rattling the chain between us. “Doesn’t mean you’re not ruining my life, remember?”

“You did that yourself the moment you plunged a sword through the king’s chest, remember?”

“He came at me, remember?” She spins to face me. “And this kingdom is far better off without him. Maybe you’ll start believing that after all you’ve learned.”

My palms are suddenly planted on either side of her face as I shake my head. “You are a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Why, because I’m right?” she breathes.

“Because you’re dangerous.”

Her eyes never stray from mine. “I would have thought you’d gathered that the first time I kicked your ass.”

“Oh, I did.” My thumb brushes her cheek. “But it was when you kissed me that I truly feared what you’d done to me.”

She shuts her eyes. “I told you to stop that.”

“This is honesty, not flirting.”

“Well, your right dimple is still showing, so—”

“Is that why your eyes are closed?” I laugh, ducking my face so it’s level with hers.

“We should keep walking,” she blurts, turning away from me. “You’re on a tight schedule and my feet are already hurting—”

“Don’t deflect, Gray,” I call behind her.

“Do you think it will rain today? I’d rather not be drenched again. I’m still drying off from yesterday.”

“We kissed.” I see her back stiffen beneath the damp shirt sticking to her skin. “Three times now.”

She turns, looking tired. “Why are you telling me this as if I’m not constantly avoiding thinking about it?”

“Because this is already more difficult than it should be,” I say, taking a step toward her. “You’re not just a mission to me. You’re not just another enemy for me to find. You’re something even more terrifying.”

Her voice is little more than a whisper. “And what is that?”

“A need.”

We stare at each other, both surprised by the words that pushed their way past my lips. Sunlight is streaming through her hair, making her glow like something far too heavenly for me.

“I thought you had found your courage,” she says softly.

I smile slightly. “Maybe I’m fine with being a fool. So long as it’s for you.”

She shakes her head, backing away from me. Her mouth opens to argue, and—

A twig snaps faintly to my right.

Instinct has me angling toward her, shielding her body as I clamp a hand over her mouth.

I whip my head toward the sound, searching for any sign of who I fear may have found us.

It’s only when piercing pain erupts in my shoulder that I know I was right.

Bandits.