“I don’t know. I think I might like Night Crawler even better. It almost sounds dangerous—”

He moved suddenly. In an instant she was on her back on the sand, pinned beneath him. She was reminded of his strength—and just how careful he usually was with her.

“Now you’re making me desperate,” he said, his eyes moving over her face slowly.

He didn’t look desperate. He looked focused. Like he knew exactly what he wanted. Her hands were splayed on his chest. Was he trembling or was she?

“Tell me what to say. What can I say to make you want me the way I want you?”

The words sent a thrill up her spine, making her shiver. She smiled. “That worked.” She pulled him down and kissed him, needing his warmth. Needing his mouth and his skin and his taste. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt. She pulled it over his head and found him smiling, his hair ruffled.

He leaned down, bracing his arms on either side of her, his lips soft as they kissed a trail from her mouth to her ear. “What I was trying to say,” he whispered, “is that I see you in everything. There isn’t a word for you that means enough, because you’re everything to me.”

“Perfect words,” she said, her smile wobbling with emotion. “Magical.”

He looked into her eyes, flashing a proud grin. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

His mouth found hers again, his kisses hungry, his weight settling onto her. She wove her fingers into his damp curls, and she was gone. Swept away. Nothing else existed beyond his body and hers, moving like strength and surrender, folded into one.

Cinder and Talon still slept soundly when they returned to Perry’s tent, but Flea was gone.

“Willow,” she said.

Perry nodded. “He stayed longer than I thought he would.”

After they changed into dry clothes, Aria curled against him, comfortable and warm.

She listened to his heartbeat grow steadier and slower, but she couldn’t fall asleep. They had escaped their problems for a few hours, but now reality settled over her again, burying her with worries of this shelter, with its dwindling supplies and combustible politics. The world outside, with its fires and storms. No matter how much she tried to push them away, the problems wouldn’t leave her alone.

“I think you might like this piece of metal more than I do,” Perry said.

“Sorry.” She realized she’d been toying with the Blood Lord chain at his neck. “I didn’t mean to keep you awake.”

“You didn’t. I can’t sleep either. We should try talking. . . . We’re getting so good at it.”

She gave his ribs a gentle nudge for his sarcasm, but accepted the suggestion. “We need to figure out our next move, Perry. We’re stuck here. The only way that’s going to change is if . . .”

“Is if . . . ?”