Page 40

T he last thing I wanted to do was share an hour-long car ride with Wes, which is exactly what ended up happening. While I was standing outside the mansion waiting for my ride, Wes strolled up and parked himself right next to me. And it was awkward…really, really awkward.

We said nothing. Zero words. Just stiff bodies and eyes that looked everywhere but at each other.

Or at least that’s what I was doing, and I’m pretty sure he was doing the same.

When the car pulled up, I said a silent prayer that Wes was going to drive separately.

But nope! Of course not. No sooner did I climb into the car did he follow right in after me.

So there we were, sitting next to each other in the town car, tension thick and the Awkward Meter cranked up to eleven.

And it was like that the entire. Freaking.

Drive. One long hour, sitting in silence, with my co-leader/future husband a foot away from me.

It was awful. And I was pretty sure I was going to claw my eyes out or literally burst from the awkwardness of it all when we finally arrived at the base.

I didn’t even wait for Smiley to get the door.

I clawed onto the handle and busted out as though there was a bomb in the car and the timer had just ticked down to zero.

Of course, my little show garnered the first frown I had ever seen from the driver.

Smiley became Frowny, looking concerned and confused.

I gave an embarrassed half smile and awkward wave before mumbling, “I’m fine,” and then looked away with a heavy sigh.

A few seconds later, I heard the car door close and the engine rev up, tires gripping the asphalt.

On instinct, I turned to watch him drive off, only to be reminded of the fact that I wasn’t alone.

And there, standing stiff and unwelcomed, was Wes.

Classic scowl in place, and the hint of a glare in his eyes.

Oh yes…he was still pissed. No doubt about it.

Clearly, my thought of dressing in military garb wasn’t a dumb idea because Wes did the same thing.

What was so not fair was that the olive-green shirt pulled out the flecks of green in his hazel eyes, while the same shade just made my eyes look like mud.

His hair was neatly combed, pulled back low at the nape of his neck.

Placing his hands in his pockets, he shifted his gaze from me and walked straight past me into the building I was becoming way too familiar with.

It’s okay, Mara. It’s going to be okay.

Collecting myself, I marched on, following his lead.

Inside, we met with the same secretary that always worked the front desk.

Wes spoke to her while I held back, giving him space.

After a minute or two, she pointed down the hall, and Wes moved, never looking behind to see if I was following.

That part bothered me a bit, but I swallowed it down.

We made a right down a hall I hadn’t been in before, and then left down another, until we came to two double doors at the end of the hallway.

Without so much as glimpsing at me, Wes pushed on the doors and let himself in.

I paused, feeling my heart climb to a staccato beat, my stomach suddenly swirling.

Forget butterflies. These beasts were raptors, diving and swooping in my gut, making me nauseous and regretting my morning muffin.

Come to think of it, muffins were not going over well for me.

This military business was way too intense for stupid muffins.

I needed to work on getting some serious food in my stomach.

Some protein, fruit, a carrot— anything —because the pastries were always on the edge of being hurled all over the polished floors.

I rubbed my face, trying my best to take deep breaths to ease my anxiety. I just didn’t get it. Why was this so intense for me?

“Hey, girly!”

I jumped, startled, but recognized the voice instantly, and whirled around to see familiar brown eyes, a devious smile, and jet-black hair wrestled into a sleek low-lying bun.

“Edith!” I embraced her, gripping her, so grateful to see her.

“Hey,” she said again, wrapping her arms around me cheerily. But it only took a second before she asked, “Mara?”

Something about how I clung to her must have revealed I needed this hug. That this was more than just a hello , but a lifeline. “Whoa,” she mumbled gingerly, stroking my back. “Is everything okay?”

I couldn’t reply. I just held her, leaning into her embrace, soaking in as much comfort as I could and allowing her secure hold to settle the anxiety reeling in my stomach.

And Edith, being the amazing human being that she was, knew exactly what to do.

She didn’t poke. She didn’t pry. She didn’t push me away.

She just held me. After several minutes, my heart finally settled.

My breathing slowed back into a reasonable rhythm, and once I was in control again, I released her from my desperate hug.

“Well,” she started, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I never took you for the gooey, physical type, but I’m down for that,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

I shrugged. “Yeah. I guess sometimes you just need a hug, you know?”

“Don’t we all? But seriously, you okay?”

I paused. Was I okay? I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just nervous.”

“Uh huh.” Edith cocked a brow, clearly doubting my assessment. “Well, if you weren’t okay, that would be fine, too.”

“I am okay,” I insisted.

She put her hands up in mock surrender. “I believe you. I’m just saying that if you weren’t , no one would blame you.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t about to lead a suicide mission that no one believed she could do. “I know.”

“Good. Now, are you ready to get this show on the road?”

I nodded, and together, we pushed the doors open and walked into the room.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I guess an auditorium made sense.

It wasn’t that big, but the room accommodated at least fifty people.

And it sat mostly empty. Only twenty of the stadium-style seats were taken with soldiers dressed in their matching clothes and regulatory hairstyles.

At the very front was a huge projector screen where Giza, Bynes, and Krous stood, dressed in their uniforms, decorated to the nine with their medals and stars.

And next to them stood Wes, arms crossed, muscles bulging, and looking pissed off… of course .

“You better get up there,” Edith whispered in my ear. “I’ll catch you after.”

I gulped, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat as my heart tap-danced in my chest. I took a deep breath, trying my best to steady my nerves, and stepped down the stairs to the front.

A look around the room showed blank faces, none of whom I recognized in the sea of glaring eyes.

I tried to set my sights straight ahead, but caught Wes staring at me, his stoic mask firmly in place.

The hazel of his eyes glowed and flickered, and something about them told me he was calling me forward, telling me not to be afraid.

Of course, there’s no way I could possibly know if that was what he was actually thinking.

He could have been mentally telling me to eff off and fly a kite.

But in that moment, I just needed to believe that he was welcoming me, encouraging me to take my place beside him.

And suddenly, I was struck with the irony of the moment.

Here I was, walking down an aisle, surrounded by people, all eyes on me, and I was walking to take my place next to Wes Calvernon.

In a weird way, it felt almost like I was walking down the aisle at my wedding, walking towards the man who I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

My breath caught, and suddenly, calm washed over me, all the angst melting away.

It’s funny how our brains work—interesting that the thought of marrying Wes didn’t feel so scary anymore. There was no way in hell it was going to happen, but it didn’t feel so off-putting, and that…that part was, well, weird .

As I reached the front, I stood next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, our eyes staring at each other.

It was only a moment, but something about the stare felt deeper, more intimate.

I blinked, and then his hazel eyes gleamed before he shifted his feet and stared forward at the crowd.

I couldn’t help it…I smiled. Something about the moment caused warmth to flutter within me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Giza began. “Today, we’re discussing Operation Silent Night.

This is a joint military effort between Dissenter and Northern forces.

It will require a highly skilled team to infiltrate a Telvian prison to retrieve a prisoner of war.

” The projector flickered, and the screen behind us displayed my brother’s face.

Whispers mumbled among the audience as Giza continued.

“This is Jacob de la Puente, First Son of the Telvian Presidential Family, and former General of the REG. He is being held in the Bellfire Tower.” More murmurs spread throughout the crowd, and Giza paused for another moment to allow everyone to settle down.

Bynes stepped forward this time and began speaking.

“For the first time in history, we have schematics, detailed building plans, rotation schedules, and access codes of the tower. This data will increase our chances of success. However, make no mistake, this operation is highly dangerous, with low chances of success and a high chance of casualties.” Bynes allowed silence to fill the space, giving a hard, stern stare at those watching.

This time, everyone stayed silent. No whispers, just dead silence.

Giza cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him.

“The mission will require a team of six soldiers. Of those six, four have already been selected. That means we need two more individuals for the team.” Giza breathed in deeply, “Due to the…” Giza paused, hesitating on how to say his next words, but he didn’t get a chance.

Bynes stepped forward again, taking back control of the floor.

“Due to the suicidal nature of this operation,” she declared in her nasty tone, “we are looking for volunteers to comprise the rest of the team.” She paused for only a moment before adding sarcastically, “Any takers?”

I glared at her. I knew she was against the mission, but honestly, it was like she wanted the whole thing to fail.

The room stayed quiet. The only sounds were people clearing their throats or the creaking of wood as they shifted in their seats. I looked out at the crowd, at the sea of faces, and all I saw were angry eyes.

“No offense, ma’am,” someone piped up, “but why the hell are we going to risk our lives for that asshole?” I whipped my head around to see who spoke, but I missed them.

“Yeah,” another voice added. “If he’s in the tower, his ass is grass anyway. Let him rot!” A series of voices sang out their agreement in unison.

“Why are we going to die for him?” someone asked.

“He deserves to die,” another cried, with several others shouting their approval.

“I’m not risking my life for some fucking Telvian!”

And then the room broke out in pandemonium as the voices cried out. Giza and Krous both tried to speak, trying to regain control while Bynes remained quiet, eyes intense, with the hint of a smirk on her face.

And I…I crumbled from the inside out. My cheeks felt hot, sweat beading on my brow as my heart hammered itself against my ribs, threatening to break them from the force.

My stomach churned, the nausea a ferocious force within me.

I tried to swallow, but the knot in my throat kept anything from going in or out, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I placed my hand on my chest, trying my best to keep control of myself, but I was losing it.

Panic welled up within me as moisture built up in my eyes, blurring my vision with tears that threatened to fall.

No one wanted to help me. And how could I expect them to? How could I think anyone would sacrifice their life for Jacob’s? How stupid was I to think that this would work, that I could save him?

The thoughts kept whirling within me, kept spinning as I hyperventilated, feeling myself being consumed by the disdain in the room—the hate for me, my brother, and all Telvians—and the sheer bitter truth that this mission was doomed to fail.

It all came crashing down, caving in, destroying any glimmer of hope that kept me going day in and day out.

My vision flickered, darkness circling in, narrowing the light until I thought I would go blind, and—

Warmth brushed against my ear, fluttering the delicate baby hairs. “Stay with me, Mara.” A whisper…a sweet, deep, and encouraging whisper. And the tenderness, the delicate nature of it, caused me to inhale deeply and hold my breath.

Pressure, gentle but firm, fell on my lower back at my waistline.

And the deep voice embraced my ear once again, the warm breath falling down my neck.

“Stay with me,” it repeated. And this time, the darkness receded, giving me more awareness of my surroundings once more as I slowly regained control of my breath.

I blinked, my eyelids fluttering as my heart slowly settled, and I turned to face the voice.

As I did, my nose brushed against his, my eyes sweeping across the chiseled angular features I knew so well, until they met the green and golden-amber hues of Wes’s eyes.

And in that moment, the rest of the world fluttered away.

The voices disappeared, the chaos fell into the background, and all I could see—all I could feel —was Wes.

I felt his hand supporting my back, felt the heat of his body so close to mine, and felt the gentle brush as our noses touched when I shifted to face him.

The warmth of his breath was on me, the heat of his body engulfed me, and suddenly…

It all came crashing back.