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Always questioning me.

I fold my arms. “I know we flew over water. I don’t know what’s east of us. If we walk and find water, chances are, we are on an island. And I believe that’s something we should know, don’t you?”

He arches a brow, and I can’t tell if my response impresses or annoys him.

I flash a fake smile at him, the kind where I don’t show my teeth.

Micah ignores me and faces his brother, with not even a hint of emotion. His eyes are distant and dead—deadly. “Leave a trail. If you’re not back in four hours, I’ll come find you.”

Maison nods. “Yeah, I know the drill.” He lifts his brows. “Are you going to be okay, man?”

Micah silently broods without answering.

Something’s missing between them—that twin chemistry bond I noticed earlier. Yet… an energy so deep and strong, a bond hidden and bubbling beneath the surface. So much is behind those words, it has me frozen as I watch them. Their tension is so thick and obvious, I don’t know which one to look at.

Was it always like this? I have spent so little time with them, let alone together.

Maison laughs, unaffected by Micah’s mood. “Same asshole, as always. Glad this place hasn’t changed you, Micah.”

Micah placed thirty-four bodies in their final resting place yesterday. How could that not change somebody? All four of them who tackled that job look like they’ve seen a ghost.

Micah turns and stalks off toward the plane and the small fire he made earlier. He sits on a dead log, grabs a sharp knife he found in the supplies, and starts cutting the blade off his hockey stick. He angles the blade and slices the stick to a pointed tip.

He’s making a spear, I realize, as he blows the dust off and keeping laser-focused, ignoring us and everyone around him.

A complete predator. Why does he need a weapon like that when he’s holding a knife?

A soft hand brushes my back as Maison watches me watching him. His face is serious instead of his usual lopsided grin.

I force a half smile, shift my backpack over my shoulders, and start walking ahead of him. It’s the most he’s getting from me right now. I focus on the rocky ground as I carefully place each foot in front of one another. The crisp terrain slips downward into a valley, and hopefully, closer to water. Maison steps in beside me as we push our way through the slippery ground still sparkling from the morning dew. Mossy rocks, sparse trees, and thick black brush snag our pants. Perhaps one day soon this place will be full of life, absorbing our fallen to create the circle of life. One day, but today is not that day.

The cloudless sky overhead is unforgiving and sweat beads on my forehead as the low sun hits us. The rays up north are strong during the day, at least right now, given it’s still summer and I’m dressed in layers. I gather my dark hair into a loose braid that falls over my shoulder, providing some relief from the heat. I keep the rest of my body covered to avoid getting too hot—also because of the black flies I have to swat so they don’t steal pieces of my flesh. I also want to hide the mud and blood caked on my skin. Maison doesn’t need to see that. As soon as I find water, I am scrubbing myself down from head to toe with the soap I stole from the wellness supplies.

As we walk, it doesn’t take long for me to trip on a flat rock, and Maison slides his hand over mine to steady me. I snatch it back.

“You don’t have to take care of me, Maison,” I snip and immediately regret the harshness of my words as a flash of hurt crosses his eyes.

He tilts his head, his messy hair jostled in the perfect way, his face soft as usual. “Come on, London,” he says. “Don’t be like that.”

Like what, exactly? He doesn’t know how I usually act, what makes me tick, or anything about me. I have revealed little about myself to him.

I keep walking, but still feel the tingle from his touch and crave more of it. I should be grateful it was Maison who came with me. Out of everyone, he is the one I would have chosen. I fell asleep the past two nights dreaming of his arms, but they were around Serena instead.

Pure, innocent, pretty Serena, trembling in his arms with fear, and it makes me wonder why he’s not with her? Is there a connection to Olivia?

Yup, I’m definitely jealous. The emotion is winding its way through my insides, tightening the muscles in my belly. It’s sickening, and I shouldn’t be feeling it… It’s wrong that I’m so into Maison.

“Did you ever camp as a kid?” he asks out of nowhere, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.

I step on a root and trip over it, almost falling into a dark narrow hole etched in the rock, splitting it into two. He’s there in an instant, catching me and steadying me with his arms. “Once or twice,” I say, gripping his arm. I blow out a breath, stepping over it. “I don’t particularly like the woods, and it’s not something my mom and I did back in Portland.” I shudder at not being able to see the bottom of what I almost fell into. I could have easily just plummeted to my death if it weren’t for Maison.

He keeps his arm around me, and I let him as we walk over a rough patch of slippery terrain with more black holes. I don’t feel like breaking my leg or dying today, so I hold on to him.

We keep steadying ourselves forward as he continues, “Micah and I used to camp every chance we could… ice fishing, hunting, camping, all of it.”

Well, that explains their comfort level with being out here, but still, how could he wander these woods with holes in the ground that could suck him down with one false step? I bristle at the sound of his name, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Micah’s behavior is confusing and invasive.

“Look,” he says, “I know Micah can be harsh, but we need him out here. He knows more about survival than any of us. He will be the one to keep us alive if no one ends up coming. He’s experienced out here. He knows how to hunt, fish, trap, and how to survive. He grew up in the wild. He really took to it when we were younger.”