The first thing I noticed was the heat. Not the comforting warmth of a fire but a searing, oppressive heat that made my skin prickle with unease. My eyes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion, and I blinked several times before the sharp smell of smoke hit me, yanking me fully awake. Something was burning.
I sat up too quickly, my body protesting with a wave of dizziness and pain. My leg throbbed mercilessly, the fever still simmering in my veins, but adrenaline overrode everything else.
The light around me wasn't from the small fire Alex had made—it was brighter, angrier, and it flickered like an omen of disaster.
"Alex," I croaked, my throat dry and raspy from sleep and smoke. I turned my head and saw him sitting against the wall, already awake. His face was drawn tight, and his dark eyes reflected the flickering orange glow.
Fire! They was fire.
