I wake groggily to the nudge of something against my shoulder.

Eyes shut, I bat at the air, dreary and drunk with sleep. “Stop, Droplet. I’m sleeping,” I murmur.

Then a chuckle resonates from somewhere close. A sound far too deep and low to belong to a tiny dragon.

I open my eyes and squint up at the sunlight dappling through the boughs above. For a moment, I’ve forgotten I’m not at home in the village. For a moment, I’ve forgotten everything. Then Darian’s face eclipses the light. He’s looking down at me, that cheek-creasing smile pulling at his face.

I blink, wondering at first if I’m still in a dream. Then I realize with a start that this is no dream at all, and that I’ve somehow ended up with my head on Darian’s lap.

Blood rushes to my cheeks. I shoot up, crawling away and taking in my surroundings. How did that happen? I can’t even remember falling asleep, let alone inching over to Darian to use his lap as a pillow.

It must’ve been cold. I must’ve been desperate for warmth. I curse at myself, rubbing my hands over my face.

“Good morning,” Darian says.

I adjust my clothing, clearing my throat and touching my cheek to make sure I was at least not drooling like a child. Suns, how did I get myself into this mess?

“Why didn’t you wake me so you could rest?” I ask, working out a cord of annoyance.

“You looked so peaceful,” Darian says with a shrug. “I wouldn’t dare.” His smile slips, and his gaze sticks to me, a deep, lingering look in his eyes. I rise to my feet quickly, almost tripping over his long legs.

My face burns, and I’m certain the shade is visible on my skin. I can’t let him see it, so I drop to my knees beside my things and begin to pack my bag to busy myself. There is not enough to put away; I barely removed anything last night. So I pretend to re-organize, taking things out and placing them back inside.

In my peripheral, I see Darian rise and stretch his strong body in the morning light. The light of the two suns wraps him like the soft edges of satin, slender and built. He nudges dirt over the fire with his boots and looks out into the woods. “It’ll take a full day’s travel, maybe longer, to reach the Black Tide Clan territory—”

“I’m not going there,” I cut him off.

He turns to me, brows tucked. “But I thought you said…”

“I know what I said,” I reply. “But there’s been a change of plans. I was thinking about it last night, and…I’m going to find Julius Greymore.”

Darian stares at me in disbelief. “You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Why would you—” He hesitates, baffled by the absurdity. “Why would anyone want to find that traitorous rebel?”

I give him a shrug and heave my bag over my shoulder. “One traitor for another. Look at my choices, Darian. I have two options, and option one wants to kill me, while the other might be my only means of survival.”

“Means of survival?” Darian strains. “How could he possibly help you? He is a treacherous cretin, Arla.”

I turn back to face him, catching his gaze and holding it firmly. “He can show me how to bond.”

Darian stalks over to me suddenly, taking me firmly by the shoulders. “Arla,” he says, staring into my eyes with a burning intensity. “You can’t talk like that. Bonding is forbidden.”

I bark out a laugh at the severity in his voice. “Who’s going to stop me? My uncle? The council? I am beyond the perimeters. And to them, I am no less a traitor for leaving than Julius is.”

“Even if Julius were alive—which is doubtful—surely he’s ancient by now,” Darian says. “Much too old to survive out here. And even if bonding were possible, it is highly unlikely Julius would be willing to teach you. In fact, he’d likely try to kill you. And if not him, then surely the dragon you’d try to bond with.”

I stamp my foot into the ground, turning sharply away. “You clearly don’t understand the predicament I’m in. This is a chance I have to take. Stop trying to scare me out of it.”

“But why?” Darian asks. “We could find somewhere safe to go. A place that doesn’t involve traitors like Julius.”

I turn my gaze to the direction of the village, though I can’t see much through the trees but more trees and a golden, yawning sunrise. It is funny to think about it. How desperately I had once wanted to stand here, beneath the dripping golden sun. Now it feels so…bitter. And far darker than I ever imagined.

Still, I know somewhere beyond these tries lies our village. And beyond the village lies the elders who took everything from me.

“To make them pay for what they did,” I say. “Not just to me, but to my father.”

When I turn back to Darian, he’s shaking his head, looking to the side like he can’t stand to meet my gaze. “Your father died because I failed to protect him.”

I feel a splinter at the pain in Darian’s face. Softening, I reach out and take his hand. “It wasn’t your fault. It was my uncle.”

Darian glances back at me, surprised. “Why would you say that? I was there when it happened, Arla. I saw the Venari Solis attack your father.”

“Perhaps, but my uncle had something to do with it,” I mutter, thinking back to the moment I sat crouched behind the shrubs.

You were supposed to kill her too, Uncle Ivan had said.

Too.

I shake my head, chest tightening at the memory. “I don’t have proof, but I’m sure of it. I’m fucking certain. Now, whether you like it or not, I’m going to find Julius and learn how to bond with a dragon.”

Darian spits out a curse, turning away in chagrin. “This is madness, Arla. For all we know, it could be impossible to get to Julius. And if we somehow manage to make it to him alive, it’s very likely that he’ll refuse to help you.”

I give my bag a bounce on my shoulder, adjusting the weight and suppressing the pain from my wound. “If you don’t want to help me, then you can stay here,” I tell him. “Or go back, by all means. I don’t care. Do as you please.”

I start to stride off toward the sunrise when Darian catches me by the arm. He steps close to me. So close that I feel the warmth of his breath on my cheeks. He shifts closer yet, our toes nearly touching now.

My breath hitches in my chest as I look up at him. As he looks down at me.

“Don’t you get it?” he asks. “I will not leave you.”

The silence is intense between us. A loud kind of emptiness.

I flush, a prickling warmth against the chilly morning air. It had been…nice, waking up on his lap this morning. It had been nice knowing I was protected all night. He is doing so much to ensure my safety. He has risked everything to join me on this journey. Despite our friction, he’s stayed by my side from the very beginning.

And even now, when I swat at him like an angry cat, he stays.

A lump forms in my throat, and I lower my gaze so he cannot see the emotion building on my face. “We should get going.”

“Arla,” Darian mutters.

I glance back at him, awaiting whatever it is that he intends to say. And for a moment, Darian looks me over—a difficult expression on his face. Then he takes my bag from me and slings it over his shoulder.

“I heard rumors that Julius settled somewhere near the southern cliffside of Elthorne deep in the mountains. It’s several days by horseback, and…” He pauses, gesturing vaguely around us. “We don’t have any horses.”

I give him a small smile. “Then we better get going.”

Darian considers me with something I’d like to think is approval and surprise. Then he follows after as I trek toward the sun.

We don’t make it far before Droplet screeches on my shoulder. The sound startles me, and I take her into my arms to quiet her down. She squirms restlessly, letting out another splintering cry.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper, trying to quiet the squirmy beast.

Suddenly, Darian steps out in front of me. He has a hand on the hilt of his sword, the blade unsheathed just enough that inches of silver gleam in the sunrise.

“Quiet,” he says. “Movement, up ahead. Something is coming toward us.”

My heart stammers in my throat as I take my staff tightly in my hands. I peer around Darian, trying to get a glimpse at the movement. Is it a creature? A bandit?

Darian takes a defensive stance, crouching slightly with his sword gripped in both hands.

Then a man steps out of the brush. He holds a shimmering scimitar in his hand. It’s as if he sees right through Darian, his eyes locking onto mine.

A smirk cracks over his handsome face.

“What do we have here?”