That night, I look over at Luke, sitting on the edge of his bedroll, and get an idea that makes my stomach flip.

Without thinking it over too much, I pad right over to him and roll my bed out right next to his.

We're camping out under the stars tonight, right beneath the rocky outcropping on the same mountainside as the waterfall. Our only shelter is a sizeable slab of limestone jutting out of the cliff above us. I use it as my excuse to justify being so near Luke.

He leans back on his elbow when I lay next to him. I can feel his eyes on me, but I only look up into the darkened sky and focus on the crackling of the small fire Luke made, trying to play it cool. I'm just going to sleep next to him. No big deal. None at all. Nope.

"Going to sleep already?" he asks. I can hear the smile in his words.

I nod. "Had a long day," I say. My voice sounds foreign to my ears, too high-pitched. Nervous.

If Luke notices, he doesn't give any indication. I hear him slide around in his bedroll, making all sorts of noise and movement that I can feel it on my pallet. Curious, I finally turn to look at him just as he procures a small, worn blanket. With a quick flick, he lays it out over me and I watch as it floats down in slow motion until it settles over my legs.

"Where...?" I begin to ask, but Luke anticipates my question.

"Sol gave it to me before we left. Your hair has not completely dried, and in the open wind tonight I don't want you to get sick." He leans over me, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

Something about looking up at another human being and seeing only that person is wonderfully extraordinary. Luke is all I see, his voice the only thing my ears focus on. My senses are tuned into only him and the rest of the world is tiny, irrelevant.

"You're always taking care of me," I state, reaching up to him. As my fingers touch his face, I watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows. I see his eyes search mine, yet he will find no sign of opposition. I want him to close this space between us, to push aside the empty air and fill it with himself. I want him closer, and I've never felt a longing such as this.

It is as if we are connected, riding the same wave of emotion, because he turns his head to kiss my palm, sending jolts of electricity up my arm. Following it are his lips, and like polar ends of a magnet do we come together, snapping into place like we belong to one another, as if there is nothing but the world keeping us apart.

We separate, and I sigh. How did I ever become so fortunate? Why me?

"Subter Aspen. Oh, Prince of Natio," I grin, teasing. "Out of all the eligible women in the village, you settled for me."

He scoffs. "I would never just settle." Luke takes his time before continuing, a playful grin on his face. "I may not be obligated to any woman in Keir, but I'm not blind. I chose you simply for the fact that I wanted to." He brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. "I'm choosing you, Sophie. Sometimes there is no rational explanation to it."

I nod. Aside from outright attraction, and the obvious fact that we work and function well together, what I feel inside my chest is difficult to translate into words.

"You're right." I blush as I speak the words out loud, my heart pounding against my ribcage. "For me, it isn't much of a choice." And I mean it. What I feel for Luke is undeniable. I couldn't ignore it if I tried.

Luke threads his fingers through my hair, combing down to the ends. "I can fathom that."

He grins shyly and looks down, inspecting the few inches between us, then glances back up at me, his eyes vibrant. "You have a good heart. Golden. Though you were put in an unfortunate predicament, you still have compassion for the welfare of others, some of whom should be of no consequence to you." His soft breath caresses my cheek. "My people mean much to you, and we've only been known to you for a short time. I admire you for it. It's addictive, actually. Seeing you so determined makes me want to be better. I constantly want to do better—not just for Natio, but for all people. And I know you do, too. Your steady empathy is contagious." I beam, flattered, and Luke dips his head, brushing his nose across mine. "Much like that smile."

His lips are mere millimeters from mine, and it's hard to focus on anything but his proximity.

I take a breath. Lift the blanket, inviting him to slide in next to me. Luke hesitates for only a fraction of a second before stretching out next to me. Gently, he slips an arm beneath my head and I rest against it.

"I've never used another human as a pillow before," I giggle.

Luke's eyes glimmer. "I am glad to be the first." With that, he pulls the blanket around us, encasing me in utter warmth. Even my toes are toasty. Shifting to gaze upon my face, he uses his free hand to cup my cheek, caressing me ever so tenderly.

"I am so captivated by you, Sophie," he murmurs, and I blink up at him, flushed. "And those eyes. Those stunning blue eyes." He brings his face closer to mine, really peering into my soul. I find it a bit difficult to breathe. "No, those eyes are as fair as violets."

Violets. I smile, charmed, aching to close the distance between us. As much as I adore the words leaving his lips, I want to feel them on mine. I want him to speak words into my skin, to trace letters onto my lips. I want him to kiss me again.

He wraps his free arm around me, but has trouble settling. At first, his hand lights on my stomach, then my hip, then it hovers for a moment before I slip my hand into his and rest it along my waist.

We lay there for some time, my body along his, cocooned in the security that comes with opening your heart to someone, and trusting them to care for it.

And I trust Luke more than most.

Absentmindedly, I trace the calluses on his hands lightly, running my fingertips over his palm. I feel him shiver next to me, and I know it's not because of the temperature. Then he presses his lips to my hair, and for the moment, we are the only people in the world.

Something in the way his skin rubs against my skin, the softness of the cotton blanket, and the warmth of Luke beside me lulls me into a blissful slumber.

I have never slept so well in my life.

That is, until a screeching sound jolts me awake, and I scramble out of Luke's arms.

The fire has burnt out, but the moonlight reveals that Luke is up too, a knife glinting in his grip. It's dark, but I can tell he's fumbling around in the dark to find his bow.

"What is it?" I whisper. I am trembling, adrenaline siphoning through my veins at breakneck speeds. I feel as though I can run from here all the way back to Herald.

Luke doesn't answer, but instead digs through my pack and pulls out the wrapped bundle of cloth Sol had given me. Thrusting it into my hands, I realize the binding conceals a long, sharp dagger as long as my forearm. My blood turns cold.

Then, Luke kicks up the embers in the fire pit, breathing a couple flames back to life. It produces just enough light for him to find his bow and quiver, but by the time he procures them it is too late.

A pale shadow comes crashing out of the woods, alerted by the light and lumbering wildly toward it. Toward us. With it, another ear-piercing screech erupts goosebumps along my spine. It is a keening sound that I've heard before.

Skinwalker!

Luke dives, knocking me behind him. This seems to make the monster angry, as it lurches forward to swipe at us with unnaturally long fingers.

The sound of tearing cloth fills my ears as the creature's claws rip into the front of Luke's shirt. Instead of backing off, Luke takes the opportunity to thrust his knife into the beast's flesh as it recovers from the swing.

Unfortunately, the darkness inhibits Luke from hitting any vital organs, merely wounding the Skinwalker and, if possible, enraging it even more.

The gruesome thing takes a step back, Luke's knife snugly lodged in its shoulder, and opens its razor-toothed maw to let out an ear-splitting shriek. It is a terrifying, inhuman, undulating vibration deep in its throat.

Luke curses, and my heart nearly stops. "It's calling for backup," he breathes, panicked. I am mentally screaming.

Taking advantage of the Skinwalker's injury, Luke takes the dagger from my trembling hands and in a swift spin, kicks out, catching the monster through the middle, throwing it off-balance before driving my dagger into it once more. This time, he hits his mark, the blade sinking in between its bony ribs and drawing a bloody smile into its chest. I stare frozen at the dark liquid spilling all over.

Grabbing my hand, Luke tugs me off my feet and runs. I follow him blindly through the darkness, tripping over unseen debris before he comes to a stop.

"I'm going to need you to swim."

I realize we're back at the waterfall. Turning, I find his face in the dark. My eyes must be so wide, scared, because he hugs me to him for the briefest moment before saying, "Behind the waterfall. Wait for me in the alcove behind the waterfall."

With that, he kisses me desperately, quick and hard on the mouth before turning and running back the way we came.

I am rooted to the spot. Frozen, staring after him. Panic plants itself into my chest. My limbs are screaming at me to follow him, to remain at his side despite the danger looming in the darkness.

I force myself to unfreeze. Breathe. This is Luke, I reason. He can handle himself, and I don't want to cause more trouble for him. At least, that is what I tell myself as I dive into the water.

On the other side of the falls, I sit on the cool damp slab and wrap my arms around my knees, hugging myself. Enveloped in the thick darkness, it is easy for the mind to trick us into all sorts of scenarios. What if he doesn't come back, the shadows whisper. He left you, they taunt. The roar of the water drowns out all other sound except for my own rapid breathing.

But I'm not alone for long. Soon enough, Luke pushes himself out of the water and onto the rock platform. He is only a shadow, a silent presence in the night. I only know he is real because he crawls over to me and wraps his arms around my form. I hear his bow clank to the ground. He must have gone to retrieve it, I think numbly.

When pulls me to his chest, I unravel, only to realize I am shaking violently.

"It's not ideal, but they cannot hear or smell us through the waterfall," he says, rubbing my arms up and down. "Hopefully, they will be gone by sunrise. I'll do my best to keep you warm."

I blink. Inhale. "I'm not cold."

No, I'm the opposite. The adrenaline keeps me warm, though I'm not opposed to Luke's body pressed up against me. Slowly, my world becomes a little more steady.

He squeezes me in his arms. "I am so sorry," he murmurs, hanging his head and pressing it to mine. "I'm so sorry, Sophie."

And I wonder, how many times will he apologize for keeping me safe?

I lift my head and pull his face down to mine. I can't see anything in the darkness of the alcove, but I can feel him. All my senses are tuned into the man holding me together.

"It's okay," I whisper, despite being scared for my life. "We will survive this."

My mind jolts as I recall Sol's words the day we met. She told me how we are all just trying to survive in a world set against us.

What about me? What am I doing? How am I surviving? Is this living? Or just merely existing? I have been guilty of waiting for the sky to fall onto me—even expecting it, at times. But what have I done in spite of the fear? How have I lived?

Sitting here in the dark with the very real threat of death, I contemplate how different my life would be had I taken more chances. Ignored my reservations.

Behind Herald's walls, I was stagnant. My experience was stunted by my narrow-mindedness and inability to accept failure. I did not want to even try because I could not stomach disappointment. But here, the Outlands have forced open a door I didn't know existed. A gateway to vivid encounters, unexpected adventure, dangerous, yet thrilling exploits. It has even tested my limits of human interaction. Emotion.

I realize how encumbered I have been living with the constant feeling of imminent foreboding. Maintaining interactions perceived to be socially acceptable. Striving to not let others down by smothering my heart, depriving myself of the truth.

And I loathe that I waited so long to experience life unhindered by anxiety. To jump off that cliff with no expectations. Endlessly hanging in there, dangling by my grip on the past, I was hesitant to let go of my suffocatingly narrow comfort zone.

I take back what I said. We will not merely survive. We will not bow in the face of danger. We will not submit to the burden of vulnerability. I will not concede to simply exist, for it is no longer enough.

I will deny death, in every form. I will persist, I will rebel, I will thrash upon the thought of merely surviving.

And I will no longer be afraid to truly live.

Because this numbness—this fear? They are shackles binding my wrists. They are the stones weighing down my feet. It keeps my eyes from seeing and my ears from hearing.

Freedom, the world sings.

And I will no longer be captive to fear. I will not shrink from the possibility of failure. I will not be a victim to the scourges of this life.

I will knock down fate's door and demand to live.