Ice Between Rivals
“I thought you wouldn’t come to help me. Because you hate me.”
“I do hate you,” I said. But my voice shook on the words, betraying the lie. The air between us grew thick.
Before either of us could say more, warmth trickled from my nose. I touched it—blood. A nosebleed. Stress, exhaustion, or something deeper.
“You’re bleeding, Liam,” Noah said, concern flashing across his face.
I grabbed the first aid kit quickly. “Uhmm.” Without another word, I slipped out of the tent into the cool night air, leaving him behind before the conversation could pull me any deeper.
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