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WES

October—Present Day

“ I f what you’re saying is true, then Charles was planning to betray us, and there is no knowing what he will do now.

” Sasha’s aging face was weary, heavy with the burden of knowing her most powerful ally was going to turn on her.

“With Raúl deposed, Mara as Wes’s bride, and Jacob de la Puente relinquishing his rights to the presidency of Telvia, Charles Calvernon would have effectively taken control of the South and West.” She paused, breathing in deeply through her nose. “Does anyone else know about this?”

Matias shook his head. We were in Sasha’s office at Fort Warren.

“Good. Keep it that way. The last thing I need is for you to be arrested for accusing Charles of betrayal.”

Matias sat with his back firmly planted in his seat, hands on his thighs, legs apart. Totally relaxed—except for the one shaking foot giving away his angst. “Could he actually do it? Like…would the UFA Council le t him do that?”

Sasha sat back in her chair, lips pursed.

“As much as I believe that President Laurence and I share the same vision for the future of the United Factions of America, he has little resources. Not like the North. If Charles assumed control of over seventy-five percent of the nation, I doubt there would be much the East or I could do to prevent it.”

I refused to sit. My shoulder rested against the wall, arms crossed, eyes trained on the floor. It was all I could do to keep from doing something stupid. Inside of me was napalm—a raging inferno of destruction that was taking all of me to keep from unleashing.

Too much frustration and anger acting as kerosene.

Too much bitterness and pain acting as gasoline.

But the worst of it was the fear. The fear of what my father did to make her feel she had to run. Fear of what he had threatened, forcing her to betray us all. Fear of what he was doing to her behind the walls of his prison.

Matias shoved a hand through his hair again. “So, what are we going to do? He had to be blackmailing her, right? Forcing her somehow? She didn’t actually betray us. Something else must have happened.”

Firm. Rigid. Nothing shifted but my eyes as I set them on Sasha.

She steepled her hands, pressing the fingertips to her lips. “I do not believe that Miss de la Puente would betray us on purpose. And with this new information, I am even more confident that Mara’s hand was forced.”

Matias leaned forward. “So, what do we do about it?”

Sasha rubbed the wrinkles on her forehead. There was no doubting that the leader of the Dissenter forces was growing old, and the wars of the past were taking their toll on her. “I don’t know if there is anything that we can do.”

I stiffened. More kerosene.

“There is no proof of Charles’s betrayal, and the only ones who know the truth of what happened are Mara and Charles. ”

Matias threw his hands out in the air. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up? You’re just going to let her rot in jail for the rest of her life? That’s bullshit!”

“I understand your frustrations, Mr. Alvarez, but you forget we are currently at war. Most of my troops are fighting a losing battle against the Telvians, and the Northern army is the only thing that gives us a modicum of a chance to survive,” she said, tone clipped.

“Yeah, but you said so yourself—he’s going to betray us. Once he gets what he wants, he’s going to turn against us, and it’ll have all been for nothing!” Matias buried his face in his hands.

Gasoline. Gallons and gallons of gasoline. I was drowning in it. Arms still crossed, my fists clenched harder as I ground my teeth to the bone.

I knew what he said. He told me that she loved me. That she ended what we had to protect me. I heard it all again as he explained everything just now to Sasha. But I never heard it from her.

I knew what it felt like to have her, but I never heard her say those three little words— I love you. Three little words that seemed elusive and childish and juvenile. But I wanted so badly to hear them all the same.

“I am sorry, but I cannot free Miss de la Puente, ensure the survival of the Dissenters in this war, and fight two dictators at once ,” she said firmly, strength from younger years finding its way to the surface.

Everything within me froze. Mara was going to die in that prison if we didn’t get her out. In the end, I didn’t care if she loved me or not.

I wanted her to.

I needed her more than the breath in my lungs or the blood in my veins. But it wasn’t a condition for me to save her.

I pushed off the wall, turning to face Sasha. “What if you only had to face one?”

She startled, almost as though she had forgotten I was there in the corner. “Excuse me? I don’t understand.”

I stepped forward, arms still crossed, nails still biting into flesh. “My father’s become gluttonous for power. That’s no secret. And his actions have proven he can’t be trusted as an ally any longer.” I stepped forward until I was standing in front of her desk. “What if we take him out?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mr. Calvernon, do you understand what you are suggesting?”

I met her gaze head on. “Yes.”

She sat up straight, eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation, any hint of uncertainty.

She wouldn’t find any.

“Wes,” she said in hushed words, her tone measured, “if we start down this road, there is no going back. Are you prepared to do what must be done? Are you prepared to defy your father?”

***

December—Ten Months Prior

She caught sight of me, her eyes brightening the way they always did the moment they rested upon me.

And I shuddered.

It was the involuntary reaction that came with a heart that refused to keep its steady rhythm, and lips that couldn’t help but curve and bend. Because when I was with her, my stone crumbled. The granite melted into molten rock, and I was nothing more but the petal of a fresh white rose.

“What are you doing here?” She smiled gleefully, throwing her hands around my neck.

The feel of her against me…it drove me mad. Because never in my life had I found myself so utterly helpless in the arms of a girl before. There had been others, yes. But not like this.

Never like this .

She pulled back, and those eyes swallowed me whole. “I thought you said you had work today?”

I froze. Scrambled. Hesitated. “I wanted to surprise you.” Stupid. I was a fucking idiot. “Hope you don’t mind?” I lifted my arm, offering it to her.

“Of course not!” She looped her arm through mine. “I would never say no to being walked home by you.” She bumped my shoulder with a lopsided grin.

Fuck , I wanted to hold her so bad. I wanted to kiss her, to touch her everywhere she would let me.

But cameras.

There were too many fucking cameras. A kiss—a touch —without a Match Permit could be serious trouble for her...for Chase .

“You smell different.”

“What?” I stopped walking, suddenly self-conscious of myself and resisting the urge to smell my pits.

I wasn’t scheduled to be here. But once I found out Chase wasn’t going to see her today, I snuck off base and rushed over.

I didn’t have time to prepare like I normally did—showering, spritzing on Chase’s cologne, combing my hair just like he did.

I scrambled, grabbing clothes I knew he tended to wear, and got dressed in a rush.

I almost forgot the stupid contact lenses in the process. But I honestly didn’t think I smelled .

She laughed.

She rarely laughed. Her life offered little to laugh about.

She didn’t talk about it either, always hid it.

But I saw the marks, the bruising. She was careful to always hide them under clothing or with make-up, but sometimes I could see the slight discoloration, or notice her breath hitch with certain movements that shouldn’t cause pain.

But what spoke volumes to me were her eyes. Those deep, bottomless brown eyes. Because fear and sorrow and uncertainty dwelled in those eyes, and it was layers upon layers that lived in their depths .

She couldn’t hide it from me, but she tried. She always tried. I just happened to know what those layers felt like.

“Don’t look so freaked out.” The laughter drifted away, disappearing inside her once more.

“Well if I smell—”

She unwrapped her arm and stood before me. “You don’t smell bad , just… different ,” she said, perplexity playing along the lines of her brows and curves of her lips.

“Different how ?”

She stepped closer, tipping her head back while leaning in. And my fucking god, those lips…those supple, soft, tempting lips were so close. All it would take was a shift—a lean —right into those lips.

She tilted her head. Stood on her toes. I could feel the warmth of her against my cheek. She sniffed.

I snapped back, self-conscious once again.

She smiled. “You smell like…like rain.”

“What?”

“Yeah, normally you smell like cologne, but…” Her brows moved, curiosity a sweet thing on her face. “Today you smell like rain. Like the first spring rain after months of drought.”

“So…I smell like wet dirt?” Embarrassment curled in my gut.

She smacked me on the shoulder. “ No , not like dirt.” There it was, another giggle. Less than before, but still just as special to me. “Just…never mind. I like it. It smells nice.” She looped her arm around mine once more with a reassuring smile that melted away my unease. “Come on, walk me home.”

***

“How could you have been so stupid ?” Charles spat out. “You could have risked your brother’s life!”

Not my life.

Not our lives.

His life.

It was always about him .

I set my gaze on my father, refusing to cower like I had as a little boy.

Charles put his arms behind his back. “If they had scanned your eyes, and then scanned your brother’s someplace else in the city, you don’t think the REG would have figured out that there were two of you? You stupid fucking boy.”

Still.

Rigid.

Granite.

My fingernails dug into the flesh of my palm.

“Father,” Chase stood up from the chair in the corner. It was like looking in a mirror every time. Except for our eyes. “Please, he was just—”

Charles whipped around. “Shut up and sit down,” he growled. Chase sat down. Charles faced me again. “I don’t ever want to hear about you going into Telvia without direct orders again. Do you understand me?” he grated out, eyes piercing like a sharp blade.

I nodded. Just once.

My father rolled his shoulders back. He had Chase’s green eyes, but I despised the story they told.

Because right now, they told me he was going to hurt her.

Hurt my mother. Because whenever he was angry, she got the brunt of it.

He started to walk out of the parlor, his hands already unbuckling the belt holding up his tan slacks.

“Father…”

He paused. Looked at me.

“Don’t hit her.” The words sounded morose as they left me.

The look in his eyes said he was boiling over .

“It’s my fault, not hers. Don’t punish her because of me.” I reached behind my head, gripped my shirt at the nape of my neck, and pulled it off my body. Dropped it to the floor.

I turned around and rested my hands on the back of my skull.

Interlaced my fingers.

Flexed the muscles of my abdomen.

Clenched my jaw to stifle any sound.

And felt the rip of flesh splitting under the force of leather as he struck.

Once. Twice.

Again.

Once more.

But I didn’t flinch.

I held firm.

I was heavy.

I was rigid.

I was granite.

I was stone.

***

“I’m sorry,” Chase said.

“It’s fine.” I pulled my shirt back on, breathing in deeply as cotton rubbed raw flesh. I’d have to go down to the infirmary and be treated immediately or there’d be scarring. And I wasn’t allowed scars from him.

Chase said nothing. Remained quiet as I opened and closed my fist, desiring nothing more than to bury it in the walls of this house.

“Wes, what were you thinking?” A softly spoken question. Concerned. Worried. He was a good brother like that. But where he always submitted, I resisted.

I defied .

I ground my teeth, my brows drawn forward. His question was valid. What I did was stupid. I was stupid. A fucking moron. I knew better than to go into Telvia without orders. It was a risk. My father was right. I hated the asshole more than anything else in this life, but he was right.

I risked myself.

I risked Chase.

I risked everything. And for what?

“Wes?”

For her .

Because I wanted one more smile. Because I wanted one more gentle touch. Because I wanted one more swim in the depths of her eyes.

More.

I wanted more and more and more.

I wanted so much more than just being the understudy.

More.

“ Wes .” His tone was sharp.

I looked up at him, jerking out of my head and back into the room. We stared. Chase didn’t read stories in people’s eyes like I did. But it was easy to read a story when it was your own.

Because we were the same person.

One embryo split into two.

The left and the right.

Identical.

Except for our eyes.

I broke the silence first. “Do you love her?”

Chase stilled. Eyes flickered as he whispered, “Do you ?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” I was a thousand degrees. Nothing but heat and flame and magma.

“She’s not yours to love, Wes. She doesn’t belong to you.”

And then I was ice.

** *

October—Present Day

“Wes?” Sasha’s voice was firm, but gentle.

I looked at her once again, brought back into the current moment.

Matias’s gaze was on me. “I asked if you were truly ready for this? Once Charles is gone, things will need to move quickly, and I’m afraid you will have little time to debate your new role in this world.

Are you sure you’re ready to defy your father? ”

My jaw locked.

Be inconspicuous. Be respectful. Be refined. Be anything but you.

Smile.

But I wasn’t smiling.

I was hardening.

“Yes.”