Page 34

MARA

I nstead of going to the dining room, Wes told me we were heading to the ballroom, which piqued my curiosity. And that led to a slew of questions and a whole bunch of stomach upset.

My mother’s army—otherwise known as the Libertarians—were coming. She was relocating an entire platoon to the estate, while the rest of her forces would be stationed at Fort Warren. With the additional thirty-something soldiers moving in, the dining room wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

Wes had filled me in on everything I missed after I left the meeting, and I had mixed feelings about the news.

On the one hand, I was excited to talk to my cousin.

He owed me some answers, which I planned to demand from him, but he was also like a brother to me.

Having him back…it was like having Jacob again.

My mother…well, I was still trying to decide how I wanted to deal with her.

There was a part of me that yearned to understand her perspective and see what answers she had about my past. Another part was scared.

What if I didn’t like what she told me? I swallowed, shoving down the emotional cocktail.

“So is Sasha going to give up her titles when all of this is over?”

Wes led me through the halls, holding my hand, eyes always forward.

He was in his cadet uniform again. It was all he wore nowadays it seemed.

“It’s to be determined. Nora was willing to provide aid as long as Sasha agreed to a vote when all of this is over.

If the faction leaders agree to move forward with a republic, she won’t have a choice. ”

I mulled that over. “What about your mom?”

Wes’s steps halted for a fraction of a second before continuing forward. His eyes shifted to the floor, still walking. “It’s not her choice…it’s mine.”

I bit my lip. Wes was in charge, I had to remember that. “So…are you going to vote for or against?”

His brows furrowed slightly, lips a taut line. “I don’t know.”

“Do you trust them?”

The amber in his golden-green eyes was alight, and I was slowly figuring out that those amber hues popped out more when Wes was calculating something.

And that fascinated me. Because Wes’s eyes were always changing, always shifting.

Sometimes green, sometimes gold, and sometimes amber.

It almost felt like the color of his eyes was a physical manifestation of his soul.

As though they represented the inner turmoil and growth he was experiencing day-to-day.

It was weird, but I was trying to learn how to read those colors.

To understand how each one correlated to who he was and what he felt inside.

“Sort of.” The corner of lips hooked downward, as though the words grated on him.

Huh. “I...wasn’t expecting that.”

He gave a cursory glance my way, the frown shifting into a playful smirk. “Do you think I would be wrong to trust her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I-I’m not sure how I feel about her, or my cousin, or any of this. But I trust you . ”

His eyes flickered, the amber growing darker momentarily as he worked his jaw.

Then he looked forward again, eyes trained on the floor once more.

“Something tells me she’s truly here to help.

Whether that’s because she’s being generous or because she wants a payout, I don’t know.

But I get the sense that she’s not here to betray us. ”

We remained quiet after that as we approached the ballroom doors and stepped inside.

It was just the way I remembered it—a two-story room of glitzy crystal chandeliers, massive floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the rose gardens on the southern wall, stone archways, and Gothic architecture.

It was a stunning, massive room. And now…

It was a mess hall.

Introducing the Presidential Cafeteria , I thought.

In less than twenty-four hours, the estate staff had converted the space with several rows of banquet-style tables set up across the length of the room.

Buffet tables were stationed on opposite ends of the space to help reduce congestion at any given line.

No fancy linen, ribbons, floral arrangements, or stunning decor this time.

It was all about utility and less about showing off wealth.

The clattering of dishes and the chatter of soldiers hit me all at once, and I paused in the doorway, eyes closed as I tried to breathe through the sudden onslaught.

A gentle hand on the small of my back. Warm breath caressing the shell of my ear. “I’m here, Mara. I’m right here.”

The sound of Wes’s voice, so deep and tender, bloomed a different kind of feeling inside me.

It was a trickle of light that glowed from a golden-amber flame.

As I focused on the sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the flame burned brighter, pushing back the torrents of black waves wanting to swallow me whole.

“Don’t let your mind wander,” he whispered. “Stay with me. I’m here…I’ve always been right here.”

My brows pinched at his choice of words, but I pushed forward, leaning into the glow of light, breathing deeply. And then it was over. The panic slunk back, taking its vile tentacles of shadows with it, and suddenly, I could truly breathe again. My eyes opened as I pulled fresh air into my lungs.

“That’s it, love. Just like that.”

I faced him. Watched as those amber hues swirled in his eyes. “Thank you.”

He smiled as he leaned down and nuzzled my nose. “Never thank me for staying with you, Mara.” Then he pressed a kiss into my lips.

“Do I need glasses, or is that really Mara?”

I turned to see a familiar face. Matias Alvarez was my age, but had been a Dissenter his whole life, raised by members of the rebellion since he was an orphan.

He was insanely cute with shaggy dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and soft features that made him look a little younger than he really was.

Nothing about him was menacing, and everything about him screamed sweet-boy-next-door.

“Matias!” I shrieked, and then I was throwing myself into his arms. He hugged me hard, lifting me off my feet.

“Damn, Mara, I’ve missed you.” He placed me on my feet and pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “You okay? Edith said you were struggling, so I didn’t want to bother you if you needed time.”

I shook my head, relishing my genuine smile. The flame ignited by Wes burned brighter. “I’m okay now.”

“Damn,” he muttered again, pulling me back into his arms.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Mara.”

My eyes bugged out of my head. No…it couldn’t be. Was it? I pulled back from Matias and turned to see tousled red curls, emerald green eyes, round face, and milky skin—Chelsea McKenna.

I squealed, “Chelsea!” I launched myself at her, causing her to huff with the force at which I collided into her.

“Oh my god, you’re okay! I can’t believe it,” I gushed.

I remembered Edith said she was here, but seeing her in person…

it was a totally different thing, hitting me in a totally different way .

It took her a moment, but finally she hugged me back, leaning into me.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She pulled back, yanking a chain around her neck from under her shirt.

Two dog tags and a gray, circular device dangled from it.

“Thanks to your brother, as long as I keep this thing by me, I get to retain control of my mind.”

Matias stepped closer to her, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her cheek on his chest.

“And I ,” Matias said, “couldn’t be happier for that.”

I beamed at them. Back at Base Camp, Chelsea and I were rivals because we both had our eyes on Matias.

But it became abundantly clear to me that Matias and Chelsea belonged together.

Finally, with Chelsea’s mental state stabilized and me out of the way, they had found their way back to one another at last.

“Wes, my man,” another voice said. Rincon Evans sauntered toward us. Glasses, light brown hair in a Caesar-style haircut, and tall like a beanpole, Rin slapped Wes on the back. “I’m liking our new caf setup. Nicely done.”

Wes blinked, and the grassy, sunlit greens of his eyes returned. “Everyone else on their way?”

“Yup. Any second now,” he replied. His gaze shifted to me. “What’s up, Mara? Long time no see.”

“Hi, Rincon.”

“Call me Rin,” he said with a sweet smile before quirking a brow at me. “We’re playing Stallion later tonight. You in?” he asked, pointing both fingers at me as he stepped backwards toward the tables.

“Depends…what’s the bet?” I said playfully, remembering the one and only time I had played Stallion back at Base Camp.

He shrugged. “Show up and you’ll see.”

I crossed my arms, cocking out a hip. “Are you baiting me, Rin?”

He threw out his arms. “I don’t know. Is it working?”

“Not even a little. ”

He pouted. “Come on, de la Puente. For me ?” He held his hands up like he was praying.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

***

It wasn’t long before the rest of the gang showed up, dressed in their cadet uniforms and all armed.

All twenty Northern and Dissenter soldiers were at one of the banquet tables, stuffing their faces with generous portions of scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, fruit, and freshly baked sourdough bread.

I sat with Wes on one side of me and Edith on the other.

Jeremiah “Jay” Jackson—Edith’s quasi-boyfriend that boasted a smooth dark complexion, gorgeous light brown eyes, and a collection of twist braids pulled back in a bun—was next to her.

Rin sat on the other side of Wes. Chelsea and Matias were across from me.

Blondie, thank god, sat about ten seats down from me, glaring my way from time to time.

The noise still grated on my nerves a bit, but I was tolerating it far better than before.

Having my friends around me and Wes at my side gave me a sense of safety that kept the panic at bay.

We were about halfway through our meal when Wes stood up.

“All right, everyone, listen up.” The chatter slowly died down. “We’ve secured reinforcements, not only for the front lines, but here at the estate.”

Several cheers, hoots, and hollers erupted down the table.

“Nice work,” Rincon muttered up at Wes.

Wes gave him a nod before facing his soldiers once again. “A platoon is being relocated to the estate and will be added to the patrol schedule.”

Rin raised his hand. “Excuse me, sir?” It was odd to see him act so formal with Wes, but I guess it made sense since Wes was no longer just a soldier .

“Sergeant?”

Rin twisted in his seat to look up at him. “Who are they exactly? Easterners?”

I had no idea how Wes always kept that unreadable mask he always wore.

I swore it was like his superpower. He looked up at his soldiers.

“They call themselves Libertarians. They’re coming from the East, but they don’t consider themselves Easterners.

They’re a rebel force separate from the Dissenters but share the same goal of subduing the Telvian threat and removing Raúl de la Puente from power. ”

Mutterings, mumblings, and whispers.

“They are allies,” he said firmly. “But I also ask that you report any suspicious activity on their behalf to your commanding officer. Understood?”

More whispers, but everyone nodded their agreement.

“Good. Updated orders will be ready by the end of the day once leadership has had the opportunity to assess our new allies. Any questions?” Wes looked up and down the table, but everyone seemed pensive, lost in thought.

“I have a question,” a voice called from behind me.

I turned around, eyes landing on dozens of men and women, all dressed in black, filing into the ballroom. And then my eyes found the only one I cared about. He sauntered forward, leading them all like the ballroom was his own personal playground.

“Dime,” Javier said in Spanish before switching back to English, “Tell me…what kind of suspicious activity will be reported?” His tone was playful, sensuous energy rolling off him in waves as he tucked his hands into his pant pockets.

“Because we play just as hard as we fight, compadre. And I believe we just promised you our lives.”

“Whelp,” Edith said, not even a little bit embarrassed and a whole lotta loud. “I’m about to lose my virginity for the fifth time,” she purred. “And it’s gonna be good .”