Page 105 of Ronan

Restless sleep eventually takes me, but the sun’s appearance from beyond the horizon wakes me early. Living on the road like I have, I’m used to running on very little rest, so although I grumble, I’m awake. Ronan is already up, sitting on the hood of the van and chewing on a protein bar.

“You’ve been quiet.” I hop up beside him and snag a bite from his breakfast.

“Sorry,” he says, offering me a distracted smile, and I know he’s in his head because he doesn’t even comment on me stealing his food.

“You don’t have to apologize.” I seize the opportunity to take a bigger bite, and this one earns me a scowl. “It’s been nice not hearing you drone on and on and on…” A small smile plays on his lips as he bumps me with his shoulder. “… constantly nagging and complaining and thinking you’re right about everything…”

“Ah, your particular flavor of compliments is so comforting. It just makes me feel so good about myself, you know?”

I turn to hide my grin. “I am pretty sweet, aren’t I?”

Our fingers lace together, and he pulls my hand to his lips and presses a kiss on the back. “The sweetest.” He tugs me closer, cupping my head and tucking me into his neck. It’s silent as the sun rises, and I soak in thecomfort of his presence—the warmth of his body against mine, the sweat-heightened smell of his skin, and as I press a kiss to his throat, the tang of salt that meets my lips.

We sit like this for a few minutes, until the crunch of gravel behind us leads to a tail whacking against the metal side of the van. Nyx stands in the doorway, awkwardly looking away. Ronan speaks to him in that same low, comforting tone, nodding as he jumps down and hands Nyx his breakfast. We wait for him to eat before we load into our seats, taking off on our bumpy trail.

Ronan is uncharacteristically quiet. We drive for hours at this snail’s pace, only making a quick pit stop when my bladder gets too full to continue, then pile back into the van like cattle. Determination etches deep lines into Ronan’s face, his eyes narrowing every time he recognizes a landmark. His lips move in mumbled, barely audible mutters as he talks to himself.

For once, I don’t interrupt him, understanding the importance of this path.

Early afternoon sun shines in the sky when we pass a cluster of three pine trees, lined up in almost a perfect row and each one taller than the last. Something knocks at the back of my mind, but the thought slips away before I can make anything else of it.

“We’re close—I know we are,” Ronan mumbles as a dark shadow forms on the horizon, a dense forest that stretches endlessly after an eternity of barren rocky soil. The green explodes across the ground so suddenly it looks fake, as if the gods themselves decided to put the earth out of its misery and tossed down a lush rug over the cracked earth.

My breath catches in my lungs as I stare at the expansive woodland. “Ronan,” I say, my voice barely a whisper over the rumble of the tires on rough terrain.

“Let me concentrate, Cam.” I swallow roughly and nod, staring out the window. We get closer, the whole of the forest breaking apart into the individual trees that create it. “There!” he mutters to himself, veering to the left towards a beaten dirt road that’s been nearly erased by time.

Mottled shadows cover us as we drive into the trees, but after a couple of miles on the main path, Ronan turns into a row of bushes. The opening isn’t visible, and it looks like he’s driving us into disaster, but the plants easily give as we push through. The scrape of branches is harsh, like screeching fingernails along the sides of the van.

My throat gets tight, watching him weave through the trees in a trail that’s barely wide enough for us to fit through. “Ronan,” I say again. He ignores me, likely doesn’t even hear me, leaning forward in his seat in concentration. The lump in my throat is a fist, squeezing my windpipe shut, and I fight for each breath until I finally manage to push past it.

“Stop,” I whisper, clawing at my chest as he pulls his eyes from the path long enough to look at me. “Stop,” I repeat, louder, seeing his frown from the corner of my eye.

“Cameron—”

“Stop!” I shout, and his foot hits the brake so abruptly we lurch forward. “Stop, stop, stop,” I chant, my trembling fingers fumbling with the door handle until I finally get purchase and fling it open. I launch myself from the van, hitting the ground at a sprint.

Thorny plants and vines whip at my shins as I charge ahead, Ronan yelling my name as his feet thudagainst the forest floor not far behind me. Dense woods surround me as I run faster, until the sky lightens from a slight break in the canopy. The side of the first building comes into sight and my heart constricts in my chest, something between panic and longing tearing through my veins.

The trees become thinner as Ronan’s yelling turns into a loud hiss. When the faded siding of a single-story house is visible, I skid to a stop, falling to my knees in the underbrush. Ronan’s breath comes in puffs as he catches up to me, approaching cautiously.

“Cameron?” I swallow again, my throat full of brambles as my eyes stay locked forward. “Cam,” he says, voice gentle as he sinks onto the ground beside me.

“This is the village you raided?” My voice is rough, as though sandpaper scratches it on the way out.

“Yes.” It’s not even a whisper.

“Which…” Emotion breaks my words before I force a swallow, trying again. “Which houses did you try to warn?”

Ronan stares at me for a long stretch, but I can’t tear my eyes away. Finally, he points at a small cottage in the distance. “My division came in from the other side. That house was the first I went into, and there was a middle-aged man inside.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a quiet sigh. “I yelled at him to go out the back door and run, and I left.” His finger moves to a second cottage next to the first. “Then Elas and I entered that one, but it was either empty or the humans had hidden well. It got harder after that,because the rest of the platoon was around, and it was quickly turning into chaos.”

“I tried to warn another,” he says, gesturing at the one my eyes have been locked on, “but when I was in the middle of speaking to the woman inside, Commander Bravis found us.”

“Did you kill her?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.

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