Chapter Eleven

Scarlett’s POV

When I wake up, the first thing I smell is smoke. Not the bad kind—the house-is-on-fire kind—but the kind that smells… edible. Smoky. Greasy. My eyes flutter open to see Kieran crouched near a small fire pit just outside the cave, moving around like some kind of wilderness god who’s decided frying pans are optional. He’s shirtless, perhaps because apparently, clothes are beneath him—and he’s holding a stick over a small pan, flipping something with ...