Now that everything was crystal clear in her mind, she collapsed to her knees, chest heaving. She had done it. She had actually escaped. For the first time in her life, she was free.
She scanned her surroundings. The stranger hadn't moved. He sat a short distance away, careful not to close the gap. That cautious distance… she found herself oddly grateful for it.
"Are you trying to burn a hole through my skull with that stare?" he asked, his voice teasing, as he rubbed sticks together with a scrap of rock.
"What… what are you doing?" Her voice wavered, not just from relief, but from the lingering fear that still clung to her.
"Is it that hard to see? I'm trying to keep you warm," he replied without looking at her. "You look like a ghost."
A dry, bitter laugh escaped her. "That's not the first time I've been called that."
He didn't respond. His hands worked with relentless focus until sparks erupted into a small orange flame between them. The warmth rolled over her like a fragile shield. He had saved her—again. And she hated that.
She hated feeling indebted. Yet here she was, trembling and vulnerable in front of him.
"Ray," she said softly, breaking the silence.
"Hm?" His voice was low, almost dangerous, like the cackle of firelight across the shadows of his face.
"My name… it's Ray." She drew her knees closer, a protective gesture she didn't even realize she was doing.
He raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Did you have a death wish, Ray? Or were you just intent on ruining my night?"
Gods, he was impossible. Not just impossibly handsome, the golden earrings swaying with each subtle movement of his muscled frame, but impossible in the way he seemed untouchable, untamed, like a force of nature she couldn't comprehend.
"Yeah, because you're the one whose night got ruined," she shot back, turning to the surrounding wilderness.
Only the palm trees remained, standing tall and silent under the canopy of stars. Their silhouettes stretched like silent sentinels over a world that had almost swallowed her.
"You should come closer." His voice cut through the night, smooth and commanding, sending a heat crawling up her neck and into her cheeks.
She spun to him, blue eyes blazing. "Excuse me?"
"To the fire. I can hear your bones rattling. It's… alarming." He didn't flinch from her glare, his long, black hair falling into his face as he casually ran a hand through it, golden eyes glinting in the flames.
She hesitated. The fire was warm. The night was cold. The air between them crackled with something that wasn't just the flames.
"Uh… alright." She shuffled closer, heart hammering, aware of every shadow he cast, every flicker of amber that danced across his skin.
And in that moment, with the wind whispering through the palms and the fire throwing long, hungry shadows, she realized freedom wasn't just about escaping the world—it was about facing it. And facing him.
She hesitated. The fire was warm. The night was cold. The space between them was alive, crackling.
Her heart hammered in her chest, part fear, part something she couldn't name. Every instinct screamed to stay away. Yet her body betrayed her, inching forward despite the warning bells in her mind.
He watched silently, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement—or was it calculation? She couldn't tell.
The shadows of the flames twisted across his face, sometimes hiding him, sometimes revealing the sharp planes of his jaw, the tension in his forearms, the faint scars along his skin.
She hated herself for noticing. Hated how every flicker of amber across his golden eyes made her shiver, for the way her chest betrayed her with rapid, uneven breaths.
And yet, when he finally tilted his head, regarding her with that unreadable gaze, she knew she could never truly turn away.
The desert stretched endless around them, but she felt trapped—trapped not by walls, but by him.