The blazing sun creeping above the horizon is both a curse and a blessing. As the sky lights up in glowing shades of blue and gold, the chance of us being discovered increases exponentially. It is easier to evade the Herald soldiers in the dark, regardless if we have Miles or not. The Skinwalkers, though, abhor the bright sunlight, and the crackling of the electrified palisades gradually cease. The sunrise chases them back into the shadows of the forest, locked out of Perseca for one more night.

Sitting in one place for more than half an hour makes me nervous, and the cramped pantry in the mess hall is getting old. Wedged in a crevice between sacks of potatoes and rice, I make quite a few discoveries from my hiding place. Each crate and sack of food is stamped with a familiar seal—Market Circle provides Perseca with provisions. It all makes sense now.

"Do you think they're going to call off the search?" Rhett asks, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

"Hard to say. How important did you say Sophie is?" Miles cracks his knuckles, and I wince at every pop.

Rhett stands and twists from side to side, flexing his back muscles. "She is the reason they're here." He turns an apologetic look on me. "No offense."

I shake my head. "Miles, if they end up leaving, you have to go with them. We don't know if they'll ever let us back into Herald, and if this is your only chance—"

"No way. Nuh-uh." Miles takes my arm and helps me to my feet. "If you are out here, then I am too. We'll find a way after..." He pauses, lips pursing for a moment. "After Rhett is done doing his science thing and you're ready to go."

Heat creeps up my neck, and I try my best to wipe my facial expression clean. Unfortunately, Miles has always been observant. One look at my face and he's asking me what's wrong.

"Nothing—" I begin, but I can't hold back the truth from him. "I just don't know if I want to go back."

His eyes widen at my words, brown irises engulfing me. "At all?" he asks, bewildered.

"Yes—no. I don't know, Miles. There is so much I have to do. I know what you're thinking—that I don't know these people, or that I belong in Herald. But I do know them. I know their suffering and their pain, and I can stop it. I can make a difference out here." I breathe, determination setting my brow.

Miles huffs. "That's not what I was thinking at all." He checks the walkie-talkie on his belt. It has been silent for so long, I wonder if they have already left. "Listen, Soph. We can stay as long as you need to accomplish your mission, but eventually you'll have to come back home." His tone is matter-of-factly, as if no other option exists in his reality. A small part of my heart wilts. He wouldn't understand.

The radio crackles to life, the voice coming from it gruff.

"All units prepare for extraction."

Miles and Rhett exchange a glance. "Last chance, bro," Rhett says, but Miles only grins.

"You've been gone too long, man. I'm a big boy now."

I roll my eyes.

"Private Nine, come in Private Nine." Miles viably startles. My eyes pass over the embroidered number nine on his chest. Stomach sinking, I reach out to grasp Miles' arm, unprepared and unwilling to let him go. "Extraction commencing in sixty seconds. Private Nine, you are unaccounted for. Private—"

The voice is cut off as Miles turns a dial, and the small room goes silent.

"How did you get here in the first place?" Rhett asks, voice low.

Miles' eyes light up with mischief. "Ever flown in a helicopter before?"

Rhett scoffs. Of course he hasn't. None of us were even aware that Herald possessed resources and machinery of that caliber. I've read about the big metal birds that used to fly in the sky, but I've never seen one. A part of me wishes I could come out of hiding now and watch the aircraft take off. But I know better, and as the whir of the helicopter's blades fade into the distance, so does a majority of my worry. We have a cure to make.

◊ ◊ ◊

The laboratory is a mess. Tables are turned over, cabinets smashed, and books litter the floor. Leaving the guys searching to salvage any equipment we may need, my footsteps crunch as I enter the room with walls made of glass. A lone desk sits in splinters, as if it had been crushed beneath a great force. My breath quickens. I haven't seen or heard from Luke since he helped me escape from this wretched place. Could he have done this? Was he in a fight?

I pick my way through the empty observation room. This time, it is devoid of any caged Skinwalkers. Dr. Tabb didn't seem bothered by his presence, but where would Luke go? Was he hurt? My steps quicken and I exit through the side door where I last saw him.

Stepping out into the morning light, my eyes close, ears tuning into the call of birds filling the air. No Skinwalker cries, no helicopter blades. Just birdsong.

Then, a light tread of footsteps, a cadence all too familiar.

Eyes shooting open, I turn toward the sound. He is a tall shadow with his back to the sun, but it is him all the same. One breath, then two, and he's in front of me, reaching. Then I am enveloped in the scent of pine and salt and him. My hands are on his shoulders, his jaw, threading through his hair before I can find words. He does first.

"You're okay," he drawls in that voice like honey, thick and covering me in a feeling so sweet, my toes curl. Suddenly, I can feel the weight of his hands, one stroking my hair and the other pressed to my back, holding me to him. My eyelids flutter as my chest does, and I drop my head to his chest, my forehead resting on his collarbone. I have to focus on my breathing before I say something utterly stupid like, they didn't shoot you, or Skinwalkers didn't eat you.

"Sophie." He speaks my name in supplication, and I cannot help but lift my face to his.

"We hid all night," I whisper. "You got away. They didn't hurt you." I take a breath of thankfulness, and the worry weighing down my bones dissipates. I bring trembling fingers up to slide across his cheek to ensure that he is real, and not a figment of my sleep-deprived mind.

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses to my palm. "I wasn't sure I could stall the soldiers at all. The only thing I could think about was giving you time to escape." Luke drops my hand. "I heard the engine. I was scared they took you."

I lean back on my heels, entirely too aware of our proximity. "They left," I assure him.

"And stole the serum with them." He stiffens, but I smooth a hand back over his, squeezing.

"It's okay, we will make more." At Luke's puzzled look, we re-enter the lab, and I lead him back into the laboratory where I left Rhett and Miles. "Any luck?" I call out to them as we enter the facility.

As soon as we cross the threshold, I can feel the air in the room shift. Right as I look up, Luke shifts me behind him and whips his bow from the strap on his back. I stiffen immediately, but my brows pull together when I peek over his shoulder to see my brother and Miles crouched over a Bunsen burner.

"It's okay," Rhett encourages.

Luke slips an arrow from his quiver and nocks it. "You're not taking her!" The hardness of his voice brings goosebumps to my skin. I watch his muscles flex and ripple as he lifts his bow. Everything moves in slow motion as he draws the string back, taking aim straight at Miles.