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He came for me… He finally came for me. And for a tiny moment, that’s all that matters. Something sharpens in my chest.

“Ezra!” Naomi screams from behind Micah, and she steps toward him. What Micah does next surprises me.

In a swift motion, Micah pulls Naomi in front of him and places his knife to her throat. Her eyes bulge at the force of it and at the blade grazing the tender spot on her neck.

The sight of it ignites something inside me. It lights a fire, if only a flicker of it. Micah’s eyes don’t leave mine, and he has a pained look on his face I recognize so much.

Ezra bristles and tenses as if taken off guard by this after what we just saw them doing. For a few tense seconds, it’s as if no one breathes. The four of us are staring silently at each other in the dark. In the place that started it all.

Mist from the forest and melting snow circles the air outside—a deep, thick fog rolling in for the occasion.

“Micah…” Naomi whimpers, peering up at him. “Why are you doing this?”

Micah cocks his head and pulls her into the crook of his arm. That muscled arm I miss so much. As much as I miss the softness of his sweatshirt, his dark, sexy demeanor, and the way he always smells so manly. Why does Micah have to look like a fucking god? Even when I hate him, my body pulses at the sight of him. He’s never looked so good to me—with his intense energy as he sticks a knife against Naomi’s throat and his hood over his face.

“Don’t fucking talk, Naomi. Keep your fucking mouth shut right now.” His voice is deep and cutting, and my cheeks heat at the sound of it. His brows are furrowed and his jaw clenches as if he’s stressed—like he wishes he could keep us both but is ultimately choosing me.

She bites her lip and goes wholly still, her eyes watering. Finally ripping his eyes from me, Micah shifts his focus to Ezra. He talks slowly, with intent. “Give me London, and I’ll give you Naomi. A simple trade. This doesn’t need to get ugly, Ezra.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting and wishing Ezra would make the trade.

It’s a good one.

I can guess his response and imagine the snarled look he always gives. Naomi keeps her eyes on Ezra the whole time, and to my surprise, Ezra laughs.

“You would think I’d want Naomi back,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, his tone betraying his mask of indifference. “Keep her. Do what you fucking want with her. She’s dead to me.”

“Ezra, don’t say that,” Naomi cries. “I was coming back to you. Micah took me before I could get back. I almost died.”

Liar. She’s so good at it, and Ezra falls for it every time. He softens at her voice—she’s already piercing his walls.

“Don’t fall for it,” I whisper, though I truly don’t know why. My hatred for this girl is strong right now. I don’t want her with Ezra because she deserves to rot alone.

Micah narrows his eyes. “Really?” he says carefully, drawing it out. Both boys assess each other, nearly mirroring each other’s movements in an intense, overdue stand-off.

Ezra tilts his head. “Yeah, really,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “Do you hear that, Naomi? You’re. Fucking. Dead. To. Me.”

Micah scoffs, contemplating for a moment. He’s so skilled at hiding his emotions. He grows quiet, still, and focused—the tells that make him distinctly Micah. “That’s bullshit,” he finally says and yanks her in front of him, her shirt riding up and baring the skin of her tight stomach. He twists her into an unsightly position.

Ezra doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch as Naomi whimpers and moans, her skin glistening, soft and clean.

“Micah, don’t do this,” she begs before looking at Ezra, the one she abandoned. “Ezra, please make the trade.”

Ezra merely shakes his head.

“What do you want, then, Ezra?” Micah says.

Ezra snickers as if signaling to Micah that he has won this battle. “All of your food. Every single can of whatever you have left. I want all of it. And if you don’t give it to me, I’ll hurt London. I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”

Ezra pulls me in and grabs my hand. I scream out in pain and almost drop to my knees, but Ezra keeps me up and firm within his control.

Micah lurches for me, but Ezra digs in the skate of his spear, making Micah falter.

“Don’t come any closer, man. Don’t make me hurt this girl more than I already have,” Ezra shrieks. “Just give me the fucking food, and you can have her. You can have both of them.”

Micah’s gaze descends to Naomi, who is now trembling. His eyes shift down to her taut, exposed stomach. He slowly lifts her shirt, revealing the bra she is wearing underneath. His fingertips glide over her smooth skin, causing my toes to curl. He glances up at us, raising an eyebrow, and a wicked grin spreads across his face. “You sure about that? Look at her, buddy. I even cleaned her up for you.”

This elicits a reaction. Ezra loosens his hold on me, and I swear, I feel his cock harden along my back because I am pressed so deep against him.