“I was wondering where you were.” He comes toward me, padding through snow. A faint scruffiness along his jaw makes him seem grown-up, and an image of me snuggled up against his chest leaps into my mind. I blink it away.

“For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight,” he says, coming to a stop in front of me, his face so close his breath comes out in little puffs that mix with mine.

That makes two of us. His energy tugs at my core, a gravitational pull in my gut that sucks me toward him, but I refuse to be swallowed into his vortex. Digging my feet into the snow, I clutch the tiger’s eye I wear at my throat, calling on its protection to ward him off. “How romantic. Do you say that to all the girls? Because I’m not that easy.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “I like to keep an eye on the competition is all. I know you’re a fortress, Ellie. Don’t worry. I have no intention of scaling your walls.”

Stupid disappointment dips in my belly, but I shrug it off, fluttering my eyelashes. “You’re welcome to try. I’m confident the dragon will get you in the end, anyway.”

He bites his lip, holding back a laugh. “You’re nothing like I expected.”

I ignore my racing heart, trying to keep up with him. “You think about me enough to have expectations, huh? Sorry to disappoint.”

“Who said I’m disappointed? I figured you were too good for us—pretty Maker girl, forced to hang out with the Disconnect rejects.” He searches my face. “But now I know the truth.”

My insides clench—he called me pretty—at the same time fear that he knows my secret leaps into my throat. I swallow hard. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“You’re a nerd who would rather get a good night’s sleep the night before the Quest than hang out with her friends. You really want to win this thing.” He punctuates his theory by pressing his gloved index finger to the tip of my nose.

Relief that he hasn’t discovered my identity rushes through me, and I roll my eyes. “So what if I do?”

He searches my face like I’m a present he wants to unwrap, and I keep a pleasant mask in place so he can’t guess what’s inside.

“You’d better not get disqualified, then,” he finally says, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. “In the real world, you don’t get to choose when you sleep. That’s why we’re holding a party the night before the Quest. It’s part of the challenge. It’s mandatory you attend.” He offers me his hand. “Come hang with me by the fire. You must be freezing.”

A bead of sweat trickles down my back. Am I the only one who feels this heat? Pathetic.