Page 138 of Scarlet Wars
Caden didn’t answer. He simply stared—dark, unreadable—something tight and volatile working in his jaw.
My nerves snapped first. “What?” I demanded. “I didn’t exactly do this for fun.”
His countenance hardened, tone quieter but cold enough to bite. “Didn’t say you did.”
“Good,” I muttered, as I rose to my feet, and took in our new surroundings.
The forest around us was too quiet—like the world was waiting, holding its breath. Somewhere in the distance, a motor rumbled—faint but closing in.
I met his gaze, pulse hammering. “We need to move.”
He nodded once before he started to push himself up. His balance wavered, the effort obvious, but of course he’d rather drown again than admit it.
I slipped under his arm, hauling him upright despite the weight. “Easy,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I can stand for myself,” he snarled at me, the stubborn bastard.
“Fine,” I snapped, letting go. “Fall on your ass, see if I care.”
He staggered a step before catching himself, and I didn’t even try to hide the small, satisfied sound that escaped me. But he dragged himself upright faster than I’d expected, shoulders squaring like stubbornness alone might keep his organs where they belonged.
The trees swallowed us fast as we moved, the forest closing in with damp quiet. Branches dripped river water onto our heads as we pushed through undergrowth slick with mud.
Every step squelched. Every breath steamed in the cold. And neither of us spoke.
Caden walked half a step ahead, steady despite the hit he’d taken, his shoulders rigid and jaw set. His soaked clothes clung to him, black against the pale fog curling through the trees. He didn’t even glance back once.
Fine.
If he wanted silence, he could have it.
Though Ihatedit.
Fighting with Caden wasn’t like fighting with James. Not even close.
When James and I fought, itburned. Shouting until everything between us cracked open, until the worst parts of us spilled out and left nothing unsaid. It was ugly, raw, almost toxic. But clear.
Caden, however, didn’t explode.
No shouting. No slammed doors. Only silence. Controlled, purposeful silence.
Where James’s anger flared bright and loud, Caden’s restraint was dark, quiet, and somehow far more destabilizing.
James’s outbursts had never scared me. But Caden’s stillness did. It felt different. Final. Like one wrong word might shatter something I’d never get back.
And walking through that forest, facing that calm, lethal kind of distance… I’d realized it could break me.
Hecould break me.
Say something, Emma. Anything. Ask if he’s dizzy, if he can even see straight.
Instead, I focused on the rhythm of our steps. Left. Right.
Don’t look at him. Don’t think about the fact I almost lost him—how his mouth had gone cold under mine—how if I’d been a second slower, he’d still be under that water.
The thought made my stomach twist.
He could’ve died, and the last thing you ever said to him?—
