The weather had turned just as Laura predicted. Rain poured from the sky for hours, soaking through their cloaks and turning the path into slippery mud. By noon, they were all drenched and miserable, but Dante pushed on without complaint, so no one else dared mention stopping.

Laura pulled her wet hood tighter, watching Dante's broad back as he led them forward. Two days of traveling together had done little to ease the tension between them. If anything, each night around the campfire only made her more aware of him in ways she didn't want to be.

The valley path had been the right choice—they'd made good time despite the...