Page 4

Amaia

T he least Prescott could have done was get his affairs in order before he up and died. Everything was a damn mess. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what the hell I was looking at. A bunch of numbers and political jargon that wouldn’t make any sense to me even if I had it explained as if I were six years old.

When I’d told Alexiares that our economy did some cyclical economic shit that I didn’t understand, I’d been dead fucking serious. Aren’t I supposed to have an advisor or something? Who set this all up?

Right, we did .

“You haven’t touched your pie,” a raspy voice whispered in my ear.

The tips of them turned red as Alexiares’s hands fell to my shoulders and offered a gentle massage. “Neither have you,” I said, meeting his eyes and catching the shadows carved under them. I’d been scouring over the same documents for the last few days, still not coming to a final conclusion on how to move forward.

“Dessert before dinner is still weird for me,” he teased, taking half the stack of papers from the desk.

Life at Monterey Compound didn’t just come to a halt, even though we’d lost 10 percent of our population and 40 percent of our infrastructure during the attack. In fact, life here seemed to be speeding up with the influx of newcomers, quickly replacing the numbers we’d lost but with half the space. Which meant more paperwork and shit to figure out with an imminent due date. People needed jobs, things to do to keep them busy and us safe.

A message from Elliot had arrived in the night: Outside of what they could grow with their hands and the natural cycle of their garden harvest, they were low on food. Duluth had gone months locked in their bunker. Ronan had been relentless in his attempts to destroy them, so they could only come out when necessary. Under normal circumstances, Monterey would help—try to establish a new trade deal until they were able to adjust, but we were hurting too.

With Covert’s ‘emissaries’ sitting in on every council meeting and morning debriefs with our soldiers, I had little say in operating as business as usual. We didn’t have a choice. No matter the sick, sweet revenge I was still intent on bringing to Ronan’s front door.

“I’m in way over my head here,” I groaned, slouching down in the heavy leather chair.

It still had the imprint of Prescott’s ass on it. A joke popped into my mind, wanting to endlessly tease him that the evidence of his ‘laziness,’ was here all along. Except the thing was, Prescott wasn’t lazy. In fact, he did it all. He was a good leader. A sound one. Both in judgment and in practice. I couldn’t top that. The only one who could had been Jax.

Scattered papers fluttered to the floor. A few landed on his black boots as I pushed The Compound ledger and register toward the middle of the desk. The perfect amount of room to slam my head against it in shame stared back at me as a shiny wooden surface. I smirked.

“Is there a reason you’re refusing to ask for help?” Alexiares asked, swiping a stray strand back into his carefully slicked back hair.

“Huh?” I questioned, turning my body completely toward him. “What are you talking about?”

He offered a nonchalant shrug. “Do you need me to say it in Spanish? Is there a specific reason why you won’t ask Luna or anyone else on The Council for help?”

I thought it over. The answer was yes, but it was also no. So maybe, I don’t know? But what was I supposed to say? I was now the face of certainty and I had to remain that way for everyone, him included. “Trust isn’t a factor here, so not particularly, no.”

“Then why are you stressing yourself out for no reason?” There was a glint in his eye, a slight narrowing of them at my lie. He wanted to call bullshit, but wouldn’t. It would all come out in the end. It always did with him.

“Because this is what was expected of me,” I replied, motioning to the rustic-looking room adorned with wooden planked walls and ceilings and trinkets from God knows where. “This is what Prescott wanted. He didn’t have help, he simply did .”

“How do you know this is what Prescott wanted? All he said was to take care of the place. And he did have help—he had the two of you.”

My eyes glazed over as the memory tugged at the corner of my mouth, a small smile beginning to form. “A few years ago, Monterey Day. He made Jax and I give the closing speech.”

“A speech …”

“Not just any speech.” I glared at him. I needed to get this story out, to reflect. It helped me process things, thinking back on all the little moments where he’d shown me he believed in me. Thought the world of me. “He said that the day would come, that he wouldn’t be here and?—”

“You’d be there to pick up the pieces?”

“Essentially,” I said.

Alexiares sighed, his head tilting slightly as his gaze dragged over me. I hated it—those moments when I became the prey and he, the predator, already closing in. Usually a direct read came to follow. The only thing that pissed me off more was that he was usually right. “For as long as you’ve been a pain in my ass, you’ve been a rule follower, Princess—despite my best efforts.”

“I am not,” I scoffed at the thought.

“I mean, you think you’re not. It may not be the rules everyone else adheres to, but you have another set of rules. Ones you don’t hold anyone else accountable for when shit hits the fan. All you’ve ever cared about is what was expected of you. Maybe it’s time you set your own expectations of yourself for yourself .”

The idea was ridiculous. I had to hold myself to a different standard. That’s what a leader did, lead by example, exemplified strength. “Yeah, I don’t appreciate where this is going.”

I turned my back to him at the same time Elie’s bedroom door cracked open. She strolled out, Harley and Suckerpunch in tow. Her cinnamon-colored curls were tied up into a bun. The knife I’d left as a parting gift last year was holstered into the side of some cross body bag Reina had crocheted, which didn’t match the burgundy work out set she had on. Those items were for two different events.

I stood up, pushing the chair away from the desk. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“And what’s in the bag?” Alexiares followed up, noting the same oddities that I had.

“Out.” Elie didn’t break her stride as she passed by us, the scent of coffee and eucalyptus from her morning shift at The Kitchens following her on the way out. “You gonna stop me?”

“Behave yourself,” Alexiares warned, his voice more relaxed than I cared for.

“Always do.” She tossed up a peace sign behind her and slammed the door on her way out. Suckerpunch and Harley let out clipped howls that faded quickly into the distance as they ran off. Traitors .

I looked at Alexiares at a loss, then groaned again, this time making sure to effectively slam my head against the hardwood. Alexiares chuckled. “Hear me out, we can control The Compound or we can control Elie, but even together, we don’t possess the skills to do both.”

“And yet she still needs stability,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “With Rex leaving with the navy again, making her my official ward was the best option.”

Alexiares hummed in agreement, stretching out on the couch. Elie’s brother wasn’t either of our biggest fans—there were … disagreements when it came to her care. “We gave her space when she needed it. Now we remind her she has a home.”

“Yeah. If she actually stays in it.” I flipped back through the ledger, biting down the chirped laugh he was aiming to get. He grabbed the stack from me. “Hey!”

“We’re asking Luna for help.”

“ No ,” I insisted. “She’s working on an updated trade agreement for Ronan to sign off on. Luna has enough to worry about.”

She’d been head of emissaries before she and Prescott had ever become a couple. It was her idealism that had brought them together in the first place. He respected her, trusted her innately.

“And you don’t?” His forehead pinched, another arrogant smirk forming from his perfect lips.

“If we ask Luna to step in,” I relented, the rest of my statement coming out as a whisper. “… everything can fall apart.”

“That’s not on you.”

“Compound first. One unit, one compound.” The voice of a general found me again. In this, I would hold steady.

Alexiares’s light brown eyes widened in mock horror. “That will never not sound dystopian.”

“That’s how things work here.” I snatched the hours and hours of work back from him. “I thought you were on board.”

The ledger plopped against the desk with a soft thud, knocking over some weird wooden carving filled with Prescott’s coin collection. I picked up the spilled coins, switching them between my palms. He’d collected them over the years as we sifted through houses within our territory. Another oddity to his collection of gadgets and gizmos. I suppose they’re yours now .

“I am on board, just not at the detriment of your health.”

I shifted in my seat, tilting my head in annoyance. Having this conversation over and over again was tiresome. Everyone had an opinion these days. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me. What matters is that this place keeps standing. I can’t set a precedent of selfishness. Not in this role. I can only imagine what would come of that. I have faith in our people, but not that much.”

“A fight is going to come to our gates again,” he reasoned. His accent grew from slight to heavy as his agitation grew. “Which is exactly why you need to check your ego at the door and get your head on straight. So Prescott did it all. Who cares if Luna does some of the shit that you can’t. Your only responsibility to these people is to keep this place going. That includes allocating responsibilities to someone else.”

“He’s right you know,” Tomoe strolled in, her long, dark hair following like a ghost as the door thudded closed behind her. I watched her curl into the couch across the room, entering the conversation as if she’d been here the whole time. Her eyes said she’d seen this all unfold before—and she was here to make sure I didn’t screw it up again. “Don’t be an idiot. No one here expects you to know it all, no matter how much you think you do. All that matters is that you care enough to find the right person to get the job done right.”

“Someone close,” Alexiares alluded. “Who you don’t have to question interfering with the real shit we have to take care of behind the scenes.”

“And you both think that person’s Luna?” I asked, glancing between the two of them. A knock sounded at the door and Moe smirked. I wanted to punch it off her face.

“Let me guess, Luna?” I glared at Alexiares, who didn’t appear to be the slightest bit surprised.

“Who the hell else?” Moe stood from the couch, passing by Alexiares to get the door, who only slipped her a soft high five.

Ramona came to Prescott’s quarters— my quarters—twenty minutes after Luna showed up. Half of the Cavalry that remained had officially dissented, broken off during their training exercise about twenty-miles out. Planned, of course. I did not want to scold Ramona on her first failure. They should not have been permitted to leave these walls—not with the information they possessed. You were either with us, or you were the enemy.

There was no more in the middle . I’m not sure there ever was. I supposed the time for peace was over, and with it, the time for acceptance. We had everything to lose at this point.

Compound, or death. With Salem Territory, or death. Dealer’s choice.

I’d half expected them to leave at the news of Seth’s death. They were loyal to him. All of them. Seth had betrayed them too when he left, but they respected his decision because most had the same values. Understood the lengths one would go through if it meant getting their family back. I think everyone had that dirty thought at some point in time. Still, they’d fought for us, on our side—until he’d died. Until Reina had decided we’d burn his body instead of burying it. Last straws and all.

Even if we had the resources, I couldn’t send anyone after them. They were trained as efficiently as my soldiers, quite frankly, a bit better. They were multifaceted in a way I couldn’t always guarantee with a foot soldier. The bloodshed that would come from chasing them down, hunting them one by one or in a group wouldn’t be worth it. They knew that, which is why they’d made the choice to flee when they did.

Their brothers and sisters in arms wouldn’t kill them, not without pause first. The problem and the blessing with the cavalry was that they were a small, tight-knit unit. They would die for each other. Killing their comrades would be worse than driving a knife through their own heart.

The decision and timing to bring Luna here was … sound. I’d have a new set of advisors for the areas I didn’t have the expertise. Subjects in which I didn’t have the time to get up to speed. Despite her oversight, Ramona would remain Stable Master, helping keep up with livestock, breeding, and such. Until and if I found an apt replacement for Seth, she’d also be temporary captain of the cavalry.

While I could no doubt lean on Reina for anything that had to do with our infirmary, working with her mentor Henry made more sense. He’d been here since the beginning and Reina herself still needed to catch up. Henry was already aware of The Infirmary’s needs to keep up with the ever-growing population. A population which inevitably showed up in worse condition every day. That left other more mundane matters to Luna.

Even with her help, there were an impossible amount of decisions left to make. Neither of us had a clue all the shit Prescott had taken care of. All the things that went on behind the scenes to keep this place up and running. And the problems and questions were nonstop. Everyone needed help with something.

There was the bigger picture stuff; the resource management, external relations, and long-term planning to the more granular decisions like what kids learned in school. Pythagorean theorem sounded like a silly thing to dwell on now but what would happen to all the knowledge humanity gained over the thousands and thousands of years of civilization? Suddenly, the small world we were left in felt large.

I had to consider the ‘what if no one else is doing the thing?’ at all times. Now, it might be on me—whether humanity started from scratch or making sure none of the knowledge we’d gained was lost through time and devastation.

Who was I to decide what was worth keeping around and what we didn’t have enough time to cover? At what point do I determine survival tactics outweigh classic literature? If I toss one thing, then I inevitably toss something else out too, and if not the citizens of Monterey’s responsibility to maintain, then who?

At the end of an exhausting conversation, Luna and I’d agreed that a partnership made more sense. An arrangement until—or as I tried to explain to her— if I was ready to take over on my own. No one outside our inner circle would know. It went against everything I believed in.

The core value of transparency that we’d built this place on. Only reason I’d be able to sleep at night was because it was safer for everyone not to know. Though that belief had already failed me once. But with Ronan watching, I refused to risk him suspecting anything off even though this had nothing to do with our plan. Our plan. A wry laugh threatened to escape me as I laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. Alexiares stirred at the muffled sound, mumbling in his sleep before turning away from me.

What plan? Right now, all we had was hatred in our heart and vengeance on our mind, but not one of us had asked what was next yet. I had my ideas. I knew they all had theirs. Perhaps, that is why none of us had spoken up.