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I hate the thought of splitting up, but he may be right. “Where’s our meeting point?”

“Our cove.”

My heart tingles.

Our cove. Since when did it become ours? I viewed it as mine, but I guess it’s now our place.

A shaken breath leaves my lips. “Okay.”

He rises and places his hands on my shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze. “You circle to the right. I’ll go to the left. Stay out of sight, just look around and leave. Remember everything I taught you, and for the love of god, London, stay fucking quiet. Thomas needs you.”

I close my eyes and nod as he stalks off with grace and confidence, looking utterly sexy with his bone weapon in hand.

He was different again this morning, back to his brooding self, after another round of mind-blowing sex where he kept calling me baby. He turned on the twin thing, and while it was royally messed up, I secretly enjoyed it. Probably more than I should have, especially since Thomas was lying so close and in pain. I think it’s part of his sickness, as Maison called it—the hot and cold his brother knows so well. But now I’m thinking maybe I’m just as sick as he is.

I see it now, in a way I didn’t before, like he’s only ever alive when he’s hunting or fucking. He lives in a dark place in his mind, and I want to help him escape it. Remind him life isn’t so bad, and I’m here with him, and I’m not planning on leaving. And that he can fuck me as much as he needs to so I can see the side I love all the time.

I hitch a breath to calm my shaky nerves, not thinking I’d be back here quite so soon. Only twenty-four hours since I fled, and now I’m back sneaking around, hunting them.

It feels like war.

But it’s a war they started, and I have to remind myself of that.

My hand runs down my thick, dark, muddied braid that lays over my shoulder. Seemed an appropriate hairstyle under the circumstances, to bring out my inner Katniss. I wish I had her bow and arrow and knew how to use it, but I guess a spear will have to do. I’m on my own now—Micah won’t help me, and Maison won’t save me.

I approach the tree line and pause when smoke tickles the back of my throat. The main fire is ahead, my old shelter to the left, and the glistening lake in the distance. I hardly recognize the people in front of me. Everyone is so dirty and skinny. A few of Micah’s original spears lay strewn about—the ones made of hockey sticks and sharp skates. Everything else just looks primitive, barely human. The once-neatly stacked supplies are now in disarray and picked through. Open cans lay strewn about, and I can’t believe those fuckers ate some of the food.

Nathan and Ollie sit slumped over, looking utterly miserable. The two younger guys are half the size they used to be, although I think everyone is. If they are the only two sitting between us and the supplies we need, this should be no trouble. They have no idea how angry Micah is or the direness of our situation. I’ve long said I would never want to be on the opposing side of Micah, and they were stupid to turn on him. He won’t quickly forget the two of them shoving a spear in his face.

Nigel is sitting alone by the fire, picking at his nails, his hair greased down under his hood. I only see his side profile, which is enough for me. Nigel is evil, regardless of any valid reason he may have for his anger. Seeing him sickens me, so I move on, desperate for a glimpse of Maison, just so I know he’s okay. Not that Nigel could do much, but he’s manipulated a lot already, so I’m sure he’s planning something.

If I can find Maison and just talk to him, then I know he will help us. And hopefully I can convince him to come with us.

I keep moving to the left, staying hidden in the trees toward the shelters. Ezra and Naomi walk toward me, so I spin back and hide behind mine and Maison’s shelter. I’m only two feet away from them as they walk by, and my blood freezes when they stop just in front of me. If they were smarter, they should sense me. My heart is raging, and I can’t keep my breath in check. But a small breeze rustles the forest, hiding me.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” Ezra croons, and his voice is like sandpaper in my ear. I’ve never understood his friendship with Maison. How could Maison be friends with someone who hates his twin so much?

All I hear is the sound of their kissing and moaning, and I wonder where Ezra’s hands are. At least it’s not Micah she’s kissing anymore. I’ll never let her near Micah again.

“Where do you think their camp is, anyway?” Naomi asks between her panting.

“Why? Are you planning on making a visit?” Ezra snipes, and I don’t miss the heavy undertone.

Naomi huffs. “Ezra, please. Can we just move on from Micah? I made a mistake; I should never have broken up with you for him. It would just be nice to know how far away they are. It’s unnerving having them around.”

“Who fucking cares,” Ezra says acidicly. “They’d be stupid to come back here. If I see him again, I’m going to kill him. And if you ever talk to him again, Naomi, we are done.”

Micah must have humiliated Ezra by taking him down so easily. Micah would have crushed his lungs had it not been for Ollie, Nathan, and Nigel. Ezra’s ego is going to be an issue.

“I swear, London is more toxic than Olivia ever was. She’s fucking destroying them. That’s what this is about, Ezra. You’ve known Micah your whole life. We know nothing about her.”

Ezra’s voice raises to the point I nearly jump. I can only imagine him screaming in her face. “Yeah, well, he’s been an asshole his whole life, Naomi, and he gets away with murder. They deserve each other. Don’t get sucked back into his bullshit, or I’ll toss you into the fucking forest, too.”

“Okay, Ezra,” Naomi begs. “I promise I won’t ever talk to him again. If I see him, I’ll tell you immediately.” I can only imagine how horrible Ezra’s making her feel, and it brings me nothing but delight. “What about Maison?” she asks.

My heart skips.

“We just need to keep his mind off them, keep him distracted.”