Page 196 of Rite of Unity

In sleep, he was the boy I’d watched on television all my life: innocent and a little naive.Today, he’d proven he was still that boy.Incapable of being anything other than his father’s son.

There had been moments these weeks we spent together that I thought he could be different, steer this nation in a new direction.But when faced with his first challenge as president, he chose the path of least resistance and killed six innocent people.

The cold stone in my stomach grew heavier.

They had died because of me.Elias had ordered it from a stage, hidden behind a title and a drone feed.

Dark eyes that promised death flashed in my mind.A different kind of killer.One who got his hands dirty and never asked for credit.

I padded across the room.

Halfway to the door, I froze.

“Just promise me you won’t run from me again.”

I kept walking.

His hand slamming the table.“I’m freaking out a little here, and I can’t even fathom what I’d do if you weren’t by my side through all of this.”

Would this man truly let me go?Could I escape him?

“And you’re mine.”

My gaze swung wildly around the room, landing on one of the trophies lined up on Elias’s dresser.It was pointed at the tip.Sharp enough to cut through skin.

I moved toward it.There was only one way.

I lifted the object, feeling its cool weight in my palm.Spinning around, I crept back to the bed, stopping over Elias.

Tendrils of blond hair fanned out on his dark sheets, making him appear angelic.Like the paintings in old religious texts the Covenant had loosely based our rules on.

He inhaled deeply, his exhale ghosting over my cheeks as I leaned closer.

My heart banged painfully against my ribs as I lifted the trophy.

His lashes trembled, eyes moving rapidly under his lids.

My arm stiffened, and I brought it up higher.

“Maryn.”

I froze, every muscle locking.

His lashes stilled.He didn’t move.

Still asleep.

The lake surfaced without warning.That first view from above—endless blue swallowing the horizon.His hand steadying me at the edge when my stomach had dropped.He’d been trying to impress me and gotten it wrong, and somehow, I’d felt safe anyway.

My arm dropped.

What are you doing, Maryn?

I turned, set the trophy back on its stand, and fled.

In the hall, I tiptoed to the side door he’d shown me yesterday.I left my tablet and anything that might be used to track me behind.

Boots clapped loudly on cement, and I pressed my back to the wall, holding my breath.