I wait for everyone to be asleep before I let myself wander. I take a blanket, but it does nothing for the cold, inside and out. I tell myself it’s the autumn chill that sends me to his room, and not the empty feeling in my stomach. Not the frozen abyss that grows with every failure. Not the note in my pocket, burning a hole right through me.
Fire dances on the floor, confined to a neat dip ringed by stones. Even in the strange shadows, I can tell he’s awake. His eyes look alive with flame, but not angry. Not even confused. With one hand, he pulls back the blankets of his sleeper, and slides to make room for me.
“It’s cold in here,” I say.
I think he knows what I really mean.
“Farley told me,” he murmurs when I settle in. He puts an arm across my waist, gentle and warm, meaning nothing but comfort. The other presses against my back, his palm flat to my scars. I am here, it says.
I want to tell him about Maven’s offer. But what good would it do? He would only refuse like I have, and have to suffer the shame of that refusal with me. It will only cause him pain, Maven’s true goal. And in this, I will not let Maven win. He’s already conquered me. He will not conquer Cal. Somehow, I fall asleep. I do not dream.