Page 15

I sat in an open field, eyes gazing at the tree line across the field but not actually seeing it. It was nothing but a blur of dark green brush strokes rising from the golden hues of meadow grasses. Fort Warren was forgotten behind me as I chewed my nails, trying to calm my frazzled nerves.

Promised.

It wasn’t the first time I had been promised to someone.

My mother had promised me to Chase Calvernon in an effort to secure an army from the North and solidify an alliance in the last war.

But when Chase died, my obligation to marry him once I was of age disappeared, and I was free to make my own choices about who I wanted to marry.

An image of Matias came to mind—his deeply tanned skin, dark brown hair and matching eyes, along with his sweet, boyish smile that always caused my heart to melt.

I had met him at the rebel camp—my personal security detail.

And we grew close… super close. Complete with locked lips, wandering hands, and a fiery desire that threatened to consume me whole.

But things were weird between us. He was spending all his time caring for his ex-girlfriend at the Institute on the account that she had gone postal the night of the Telvian attack.

I hadn’t seen him for months. We exchanged some texts back and forth, but they felt stiff and unnatural.

Nothing like the flirty vibes and playful teases back at the rebel camp.

And some part of me wondered if our shared interests in one another burned that night…

the same night he tried to kill my brother but shot me instead.

It was…it was heavy.

And now this?

Sasha had laid it out very clearly for me. Before even asking me, she had discussed with Charles Calvernon the possibility of renewing the promise my mother had made to the Calvernons. But this time, I would be promised to Wes.

Charles would ensure aid to the rebellion and attempt a rescue operation for my brother, but in exchange, I would marry the First Son of the North.

Our union meant that the Calvernon family stood to gain new territory as part of the agreement.

The South would be awarded to the Calvernons, making the UFA a collection of three factions instead of four.

It seemed crazy to me…overwhelming, really.

But as Sasha tried explaining, I was the First Daughter of Telvia.

In the UFA’s culture of monarchs disguised as presidents, I was a modern-day princess.

My marriage to Wes meant the North would become the biggest faction, with the most land, resources, and population.

Apparently, Charles liked these terms very much.

Wealth.

Power.

Survival.

It was all there, just like Sasha told me. The only thing missing was revenge. But I was the bargaining chip. And now I was stuck with no idea of what to do. My brother’s life hung on the edge, hinging on two simple words: I do. And the worst part was, I didn’t know if I could go through with it.

I just kept thinking about Matias.

What would he think?

Would he even care?

Or was he too consumed with Chelsea, devoting himself to her and all her needs?

And then, another thought—perhaps the most important—Wes.

Did he know this whole time? Was that why things had been so weird between us? And if he did know, was he…happy about it? Or was he revolted at the thought of being stuck with me for the rest of his life?

And I…I was confused. Was it weird that my heart skipped when Sasha said I would be promised to Wes? Did that mean that I liked him?

I shook my head, feeling my stomach roil, and I just couldn’t choke it down.

I leaned over to the side and dry heaved before finally spitting up bile and stomach acid into the grass.

My stomach muscles clenched and released, rolling spasms consuming my body.

After a minute, my muscles relaxed, the tension slowly releasing as exhaustion swept through me, sweat peppering my brow.

“Holy crap. You okay?”

“Huh?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, turning to see who had shown up. Surprise and glee washed through me when I saw sleek black hair, alabaster skin, and delicate almond-shaped eyes. “Edith!” I started to shift to my feet, but she placed a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place.

“Whoa now. You just hurled up the nasty, so let’s not move around just yet.” She started to sit down and then thought better of it. “Why don’t we scoot down just a little…” My brows arched momentarily until I remembered I had just upchucked stomach acid next to myself.

I scooted over a few feet and watched as Edith’s long limbs, porcelain doll features, and exotic gorgeousness sat next to me. “When did you get in?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her in a hug.

“A few hours ago,” she pulled back. “It was all of five minutes after they had you guys on the chopper that I got reassigned. You know how it is…if you’re not training, you’re off doing crazy shit. No rest for the wicked,” she added with a wink.

I nodded in agreement. Life in the North was different from the rebel base.

At the base, we were all together in one location, so we were always bumping into each other, sharing meals, and training together.

But here, there were bases all over the damn place, so people were constantly being assigned, reassigned, shifted, and moved. It was actually pretty annoying.

“How’s Wes?”

I froze. What a loaded question. “He’s…fine.”

“Uh huh.” She arched a brow, casting a quick glance at the vomit puddle. “Really? So, you gonna tell me what happened? Or should I just assume I know what’s going on and start a bunch of rumors?”

I glanced at her, mouth opened to speak, but I didn’t even know where to start.

I blew out a breath as I looked down at my hands, picking at my cuticles.

But she was patient, and she sat quietly as I tried to wrap my head around everything that had just transpired over the last three hours.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to just go for it. “I’m Wes’s promised.”

“ What? ” And then Edith started choking, coughing, slapping her chest. I quickly patted her back.

“Are you okay?”

She coughed, but nodded her head. “Yeah”— cough, cough, cough —“I’m fine”— cough, cough . After a moment, she inhaled deeply, her eyes glistening with tears as she tried to regain control of her breathing. “Sorry about that.”

“What was that?”

“Spit. As in, you just dumped the juiciest, effing news I’ve ever freaking heard, and I choked on my own spit. Holy crap…” she cleared her throat, tapping her chest a few more times. “You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

So I did. I told her everything. How my brother was in the tower, and how Sasha needed a bargaining chip to convince the North to help the Dissenters. And I explained that she discussed my hand in marriage with Charles Calvernon to seal the deal and garner their support.

“That’s BS!” she called out. “Sasha can’t do that. She doesn’t have any right to promise you to anyone. I can’t believe that.”

I threw my hands up in the air. “I don’t know, Edith. All I know is she told him I would marry Wes in exchange for all this other stuff.”

“Baloney. She’s making you think that you’re locked in, but you’re not.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. How can she promise you when she doesn’t have any blood ties to you? She doesn’t have the right to promise you to anyone. You have a choice. This isn’t Telvia. You get to pick who you want to marry, or if you want to marry at all.”

I looked away, staring off across the open field at the tree line.

Did I really have a choice? Was this just a manipulative trick from Sasha to get me to do what she wanted so she could continue her war against Raúl?

I shook my head. I really didn’t know what to believe.

But then, “Does it really make a difference?”

“Come again, amiga?” Edith’s eyes were huge, and she looked at me like I had grown a third arm.

I blinked, lips parted as I tried to hang onto the thought in my head. “Does it make a difference whether or not she has the right to promise me? Does it really matter if I have a choice?”

“Um…” Edith looked around. “Are you talking to me or are you trying to prank some fool I don’t see? Of course it matters!”

“Does it?” I insisted. “Whether she can or can’t, or whether I choose or not, the end result is still the same, Edith.

If I want to save my brother, then I need help from the North.

I can’t do it by myself. I need help. It doesn’t really matter who promised what, it’s the same result in the end.

Marrying Wes means I get a chance at saving my brother.

How I get there doesn’t really matter because it’s the same no matter what. End of story.”

“But it does matter, Mara.” Edith stood up, turning around to face me. “It does . I get what you’re saying about your brother but think about this for a minute.”

“I am thinking about it, Edith. Can’t you see that I’m freaking out about this?” I rose to my feet. “I have to marry someone in order to save my brother’s life. That’s crazy! Whether or not Sasha makes me do it is inconsequential.”

“Of course it is,” she insisted, throwing her arms out in exasperation. “No one can make you do anything!”

What was happening? Was she…? “Are you mad at me?”

“No! Well, maybe…I don’t know.” She dropped her face into her hands and then slid her hands down her face, pulling at her skin. “I’m not mad at you…not necessarily. This is just—ugh! I don’t know! It just feels like if you let Sasha tell you who to marry, then are we really any better than Telvia?”

“What?” That made no sense.