Page 34

Keeping my stride casual, I leave the estate, glance briefly down the road to my old home, then make my descent.

It hurts too much to remember.

It took me a long time to finally accept that Ryx was never coming back. Once I did, I gave up on ever seeing him again.

Sometimes, when Matthias pushes me too hard, or I’m awake at night, I still dream of him. I can still smell his scent like he’s right beside me.

Sage.

The smell of smoke and earth and freedom.

All it took was him vanishing from my life to dissect the perfume finally.

The council has tripled our militia. Soldiers stand at every point between sectors one and three. The rows within the latter are condensed, buildings atop buildings, swallowing each other whole, which is the purpose of the newest tenement. A massive structure with endless imported glass stretching the perimeter and serving as an exhibition hall for all new members of the community.

It’s inhumane, but when have the Telex ever identified as anything else?

In sector two, I’m met with raised fists to foreheads and downcast eyes. They all fear me and rightfully so. Matthias and the council have made it no secret that I dispatch all rebels that are brought through the gate. Our relationship with Ivory Hill has opened up a new era for the community, turning New Grove into a miniature version. All of Sector One’s estates have been remodeled. Headquarters has even more tunnel systems beneath its gleaming tile floors. Even sector two has been rewarded with upgrades for their continued loyalty and unremarkable masteries.

It’s all so…wrong.

To think there was a time when I viewed this place as safe—honorable. I was so naive, so stupid. Many things I regret, but the brightest of all my failures, the one that glimmers behind my eyes every waking moment, is that I regret not listening. For someone shoved in the darkest corners, I had an opportunity for light, and I shunned it. Even throughout my research and all those hushed conversations, too many pieces of the puzzle were missing for me to believe any of it. My adolescent, arrogant mind chose to swallow what I’d always been fed.

Comfort and familiarity took priority, and I’ve never paid a price so big.

I lost my home, my taken-for-granted freedoms, my guardian, and the love of my life. Every single one now gone because I couldn’t open my own fucking eyes and see what had always been right in front of my face. Anger coils low in my gut, my mastery binding to the emotion and ready to burst off me in waves. Releasing it isn’t an option—not yet. For years, I’ve wondered when it’ll be time. When I’ll finally snap, it isn’t today. That’s for damn sure.

Avis is already waiting at sector three’s entry point, his eyes locked on my every twitch.

Out of everyone, he’s the Telex I have yet to convince. He knows as well as I do that this is a farce. But neither of us will admit it out loud.

“Maven,” he greets as I approach.

I raise my fist to my forehead, and he does the same. “General Avis.”

Adorned in his all-black fatigues, he’s as imposing as ever. The man never steps foot out of the barracks dressed in anything else—like he’s prepared for battle at any given second. Silver streaks poke through his dark hair, and stubble covers his face. A jagged scar runs from his temple to his jaw. When I was little, I’d asked Patryn how he got it. My former guardian slapped the back of my head and told me to look away.

“Better get on with it, then,” he says and starts walking without me.

I don’t bother rushing after him. As soon as a few people start to watch our descent, he slows his pace. I get a sick thrill seeing him submit to me even without uttering a single word. It’s an effect I have on everyone, regardless of their place in our social hierarchy. While he may outweigh me, given his alpha stature, I’m more dangerous than he could ever imagine. I wonder if he knows what Matthias makes me do behind closed doors—if it keeps him up at night worrying I will one day do the same to him.

“Any news from the Runway?” I ask.

The envoy hasn’t returned yet. Council had sent a small group to set up a future relationship with a different sister community. Red Hill has refused to meet with anyone but Ivory Hill. However, our leaders have grown rather ambitious, wanting to establish a formal trade route. The Runway was the designated meeting location. I still find it odd, too. A place as open and vulnerable as the Runway is practically begging for an attack.

“Not yet.” His clipped tone tells me I shouldn’t keep asking.

I’m inclined to push the issue. “What if they don’t return? Anything can go wrong out in the Barrens. They should’ve sent more than two armed guards with the convoy.”

“It doesn’t concern you, Saren.”

Ah. So this is the game we are meant to play.

“In six months, it will.”

He stops midstride and speaks low enough so only I can hear him. “You are a puppet. A pretty face for an otherwise unsuspecting crowd. You will never hold any real power among the council.”

I clench my jaw, slide my balled fists into my pockets, and barely restrain myself from snapping his neck.