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“It never is, is it?” He shook his head as his fingers spasmed, as they usually did when he was stressed or upset. Saren wanted to hold them. Kiss them. Do something to make it all better. “Go home to Patryn.”

“He’s dead! He’s f-f-fucking dead!”

Ryx looked away from him, shoulders up by his ears. “Just…go.”

The soldiers saw him, then. Their shouts to get away and that he was dangerous rang out through the street. Saren ignored them. “I’m not leaving until you listen to me. I couldn’t stop him. He was too strong—”

“I said leave!” Ryx screamed so loud Saren was sure the whole community heard.

“You said you wouldn’t leave without me,” he cried.

Squaring his jaw and flaring his scabbed nostrils, Ryx forced his eyes down.

“Ryx, don’t do this. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The guards had Saren in their hold now. Avis’s voice became clear, shouting orders to remove Saren and get the Other through the gate before anyone saw. He was extremely exhausted, hurting everywhere, but he didn’t stop fighting. Nails slashed through skin, feet swung in violent kicks. His throat burned with the force of his screams and protest. He didn’t stop until they pinned him to the ground, dirt in his mouth and eyes. Only then did he go still. The gates opened with a loud hiss. The truck shifted into gear and rolled through them.

Just before the gate shut, their eyes met for a long, painful moment. And all Saren saw was a boy who hated him with every piece of his heart.

Part 2

13

Saren

Present—Age 22

Crimson weeps from the rebel’s tear ducts and ear canals.

Matthias observes, the shiny bald patch atop his head glistening under the bright fluorescent lights. I double down, take what I need, and keep my expression blank despite the euphoria thrumming through my veins. What used to be monthly feeds has turned weekly, and even then, sometimes it isn’t enough. I used to feel something—guilt, fear, perhaps even sympathy. Those days are long gone, though, and I war with the urge for more. Always more.

Every memory siphons from the rebel and into me. His emotions, thoughts, and sensations are all mine to consume until there’s nothing left. The rush of it used to knock me unconscious after tremors and seizures gave way. I’m stronger than ever, with a hunger that is never satisfied.

The alpha is drained dry and collapses over the tile.

Is this what Patryn was trying to avoid? Did he know what I’d become?

Quickly shaking the thought loose, I meet my guardian’s eyes.

“Two minutes is a new record,” he muses, jotting down the exact numbers. “Next week, you’ll beat it.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I need another rebel—more. But that’d be perceived as defiance. I nod instead and drag the now-cooling body over to the trash chute. The hatch squeaks loudly as I lift it into place. When I squat down to lift the corpse, Matthias clicks his tongue. Jaw clenching, I let it drop with a soft thud, take a few steps back, and lift him with my mind. Once the trash is disposed of, I clasp my hands at the base of my spine and wait.

“You’ll go down to sector 3 with Avis to announce the new tenement is ready for inhabitants. Make sure to clean yourself up.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my voice passive and meek, just how he likes it.

He scrutinizes me again, eyes drifting from my mouth down to my toes. After too long a silence, he grunts and nods towards the door. “Best not to keep him waiting.”

Of all the horrors my guardian has forced me to endure, I’m thankful that he’s kept his urges at bay. The look in his gaze isn’t lost on me, and neither is the way his touch always lingers. If not for his permanent seat on the council and my upcoming debut as the Maven, I’m sure he would act on his desires. He’s wanted me since I was a child. As I exit the torture chamber disguised as my training room, my palm slides over my stomach.

The monster has slept for six years, and sometimes I wonder if I imagined it all.

That crippling pain, the bouts of nausea and sharp slices of phantom claws. All that remains now is emptiness. Still, I rub the spot where the surgeon cut me open, wishing that I was whole. Not that it matters—I was never going to be anyone but who I am. Matthias made sure of it, and it drives him up the wall that I’ve learned to block him out completely. He might have shaped me into a mindeater, but by doing so, I’ve become something far more terrifying.

I am a vault. And all those whispers they kept from me are slowly rising into an unmistakable roar.

It’s what drives me to push through each day wearing a mask I hate. At first, having no one to confide in was hard to swallow. After all, my entire world was ripped out from under me, and I was helpless to stop it. Things are changing, though. I’ve played the game as best I can. They’ll never see me fucking coming.