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I t all just sucked. None of this was fair. And the worst part was, I was stuck in the damn hospital.

Poor Matias…I interrogated him for almost half an hour trying to find out every detail.

No sooner had we arrived back in the North when Jacob was detained.

He was conscious by then, but battered and bruised like the rest of us.

And Charles was quick to have a waiting party anxiously expecting our arrival.

The second our plane landed, Northern military officers seized Jacob and took him into custody.

That was two days ago.

On the positive side, they had been treating Jacob’s wounds and were trying to figure out what Raúl had done to him with the mystery procedure he had undergone.

On the bad side, Jacob was refusing to talk to anyone but me, and that was driving Charles Calvernon insane.

But no matter what Charles threatened, my brother refused to speak to anyone, insisting that he would only speak to me and to me alone.

The problem was, I’d been in the hospital, and the doctor refused to let me go until he was convinced I had recovered enough.

Of course, Charles tried to insist to the doctor that it was imperative I be released.

No one knew I had broken up with Wes except the four of us that had been there.

The ring still glimmered on my finger, and Sasha was quick to highlight the need to ensure the health and safety of Wes’s promised.

She cornered Charles into agreeing that my wellbeing was of the utmost importance.

If he wanted to maintain his facade of being a caring ruler, he had no other choice.

But time was of the essence, and I knew it.

Jacob had said back at the tower that something was coming.

And every moment I stayed stuck in the hospital was another second he was being held prisoner under Charles’s direction.

Who knows how much longer Charles would hold out before he resorted to more drastic measures of making Jacob talk. I had to get to him… soon.

***

The following day, I was surprised when Giza showed up, along with General Bynes and a nurse I didn’t recognize.

“Sir?” I asked, trying to sit up in bed.

“Miss de la Puente,” he said with a smile. “It’s good to see you well.”

“Thank you, sir.” I looked at him and then to Bynes, but she only glared at me. I turned my attention to Giza. “Why are you here?”

“You’re being released. I’m here to escort you—”

“We’re taking you to see your brother,” Bynes interjected. Giza gave her a nasty look.

“Jacob?” That perked me up. I instantly pulled back my covers and started to scramble out of bed.

“Slow down,” Giza said, placing an arm on my shoulder. “There’s no need to rush. We’ve brought you a fresh set of clothing so you can get cleaned up. The nurse will pull out your IV, and then we’ll get ourselves moving. We’ll step out so that you can get ready.”

I watched them leave, resisting the urge to yank out the IV myself. I was finally going to see my brother again. The nurse moved like molasses, but once she was done, I got dressed and was out of there. I didn’t even bother to look in a mirror.

A small, black limo picked us up, and then we were off, driving through the city and out into the countryside.

Time passed slowly, but all I did was imagine seeing my brother, having him safe in my arms. Sometimes, my mind wandered to images of hellhounds, causing my heart to quicken.

But anytime I felt the anxiety climb, I would remind myself that it was over. I survived. I was safe.

Of course, no amount of positive self-talk prepared me for what I was going to encounter. We approached a twelve-foot-high fence with razor wire circling the top. And instantly, I was transported back to the tower, hearing the alarm relentlessly screaming, death howling at the moon.

“de la Puente!”

I snapped out of it, inhaling sharply as Bynes stared at me like I was an idiot.

I looked around, realizing I was still in the limo, but we had pulled up in front of a building.

No alarms were blaring. No flashing red or green lights.

Just the sun. And we were well past the security gate and well within the prison.

I ran my fingers through my hair, noticing my breathing was quick and shallow.

“Miss de la Puente?” Giza called.

I blinked and saw that the door to the car was being held open for me. Bynes and Giza were already out, staring at me like I had gone nuts.

I swallowed. “Uh, yeah…sorry.” I climbed out and rubbed my shoulders, holding myself. I had to get it together.

“Follow us, de la Puente,” Bynes sneered before she turned on her heels and marched into the building.

Giza stepped toward me, placing a heavy, gentle hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?” His honey-colored eyes were warm and sweet, a side I seldom saw of the Sergeant Major, but always knew existed.

I nodded, offering him a smile. The last thing I needed was for anyone to think I needed to be placed back in the hospital.

“I’m fine.” His eyes searched mine, but I did my best to reveal nothing, becoming a blank slate.

After a moment, he nodded and then extended his hand outward, letting me go first. Blowing out a breath, I looked at the large brick building, noticing the rows and rows of barred windows, and then walked inside.

I really didn’t pay attention to what was in there or what anything looked like. I didn’t want to. I just stayed focused on Bynes and tried my best to blur the rest out. I couldn’t risk something reminding me of the tower. Jacob was my focus. Nothing else mattered.

We twisted and turned through hallways, badged in through doors, and then took an elevator that I thought was going to go up, but, as it turned out, went down into a basement level.

And when the doors dinged and opened, a damp, earthy smell invaded my nose—musty and mossy, wet.

I didn’t like it. But I swallowed and pushed myself forward, following Bynes through the dreariest hallway I had ever seen.

And at the very end was a large metal door with a tiny square window with two metal bars running through it.

Five locks and bolts ran vertically down the length of the door.

We stopped right in front of it. I wasn’t sure what they thought my brother was capable of, but it seemed silly to have so much security for one man. And a broken man at that.

Bynes turned sharply, eyeing me. “You’re to ask your brother for all the information he has on Raúl and the Telvian army. He is then to sign this paper”—she shoved a document into my hand with a pen—“and then you are to come out.”

I was confused. I looked at the paper and then held it up at Bynes. “What is this?”

Bynes rolled her shoulders back, speaking matter-of-factly. “President Calvernon said you would know exactly what this document is. He told me to tell you to remember your part of the bargain.”

“Wait a minute,” Giza stepped in. “The agreement was that Mara would speak to her brother and find out what this thing is he continues to hint at. There was nothing about signing documents—”

“This is none of your concern, Giza. This is a private, family matter between the President and his future daughter-in-law,” she pushed back with a bite in her tone.

Giza’s gaze hardened. He looked at me. “Mara, is this true?”

I hesitated and then glanced quickly at the document in my hand, skimming the words.

It all clicked. I had agreed to make my brother sign the treaty that gave the North control of Telvia.

I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the mess I had gotten myself into.

The worst part was, it was never supposed to come to this.

And now that I was here, I didn’t know what to do or how to get out of it.

“Mara?”

I glanced back at Giza and nodded. “Yes, it’s true.” He kept a steady gaze on me, trying to read between the lines. But I had nothing to offer him.

“There, you see? Now in you go, de la Puente,” Bynes ordered, turning around and undoing the five different locks and bolts securing my brother.

The door opened into a damp, concrete square room with nothing but a bucket and a measly, disgusting mattress—no sheets—that I assumed was white at some point in its existence.

But I surely hoped not, because its current shade of brown and gray left me nauseous.

And, sitting in the opposite corner, was my brother.

“Jacob,” I breathed out, rushing to him and crouching down on the floor to hug him as the door was closed behind me.

“Mara?” He pulled back a second to see that it was really me, and then scooped me into his arms, hugging me forcefully.

“Mara! I thought you were dead! I thought the reason they wouldn’t let me see you was—oh, it doesn’t matter.

You’re alive!” He pulled me back again, running his hand through my hair and cupping my cheek.

“I’m okay. I would have come sooner, but I’ve been in the hospital recovering.

” I pulled back and looked at him. His gray clothing was grimy, just like the rest of his cell, with pitiful gray shoes that looked hardly better than socks.

Someone replaced the bandages on his head, which was good, but he was still mottled with bruises—an array of colors from yellow to deep purple—all in different stages of healing.

“Have they hurt you?” I asked.

“No. But the accommodations are less than delightful,” he added with a half-hearted laugh.

I smiled at him, touching his cheek. “Oh Jacob, I told you this would happen. I told you we couldn’t come back.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I knew what I was doing. But we’ve got to talk, Mara. Dad…what he’s up to…they don’t stand a chance.”

Fear needled in me. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

He exhaled sharply, as though he was trying to muster his strength but failing. “It’s bad, Mara.”

“Jacob,” I said more forcefully. “What is it?”

He closed his eyes, turning his face away from me. “It’s my fault. I…I created the technology. I designed it. But I—” He shook his head, body shivering.

I ran my hand down his cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry, Mara. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.” Tears began to stream down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

I tried to take his shoulders in my hands, but he wouldn’t let me comfort him, pushing me away. “Jacob, it’s—”

“Stop telling me it’s fine,” he snapped. “You don’t know what I’ve done. And if we don’t do something, it’s over. The Dissenters, the North, the East…it’ll all be gone”—he snapped his fingers—“like that.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Jacob was always the calm one. Steady, solid, secure. Seeing him so upset caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. I swallowed and then took a deep breath, trying my best to ease my nerves.

“Okay,” I whispered. “What is it? What’s Raúl planning?”

Jacob stayed quiet for a moment, closing his eyes as he took several calming breaths.

The seconds ticked—one, two—and then he opened his eyes, fire burning deep within him.

“Do you remember the processing plant? The one in the forest? The one where we cap—” he faltered, turning his head away from me for a second as if collecting his emotional reserves before returning his gaze to me. “Where we captured Chelsea?”

Oh god, where was this going? “I remember.”

“Did you ever see what we were building there? What we were making?”

Memories of the explosion, of the soldiers firing at Chelsea, Wes, and Matias, all flooded my mind. “I never saw it, but the others said there were these microchips.”

“Nanochips,” Jacob corrected. “That’s right. Did they ever figure out what they did?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

“Then you better call a meeting with all the big players of this rebellion, because none of us are going to stand a chance the second those chips are activated.”

“Why? What are they? What’s going on?” The questions came flying out of me faster than I could process them.

And when Jacob finally told me, the panic attack I had been pushing back since the hospital took over as the realization of what was coming collided with my reality. We were all about to be royally screwed.