Page 13

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Briar

The moment I heard Devrin’s startled yelp as he was shoved from the plane, I knew what was coming.

I leaned toward Thorne and whispered, “I’m going to pull my chute right away. It’ll slow my descent. By the time you jump, you might still see me falling. Aim for me. Don’t waste time when they call your name.”

“Chute? What do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes, not that he could see it through the blindfold. My brother was brilliant. Logic, math, science? A prodigy. But sometimes he was alarmingly slow on the uptake.

“They’re making us jump,” I said. “Out of the plane.”

He tensed beside me.

“Don’t think. Don’t panic. Fear’s useless here.”

I reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were tight, coiled, ready to spring or snap.

“Look for my chute. Aim for where I land. Got it?”

Silence .

“Thorne.”

“Yes,” he said quickly, voice rough. “Yeah. I got it. I’ll follow your chute.”

“Briar Grey,” the General barked. I squeezed Thorne’s shoulder once, firm and quick.

“Find me,” I said, and then I was moving, guided to the open hatch, wind screaming in my ears.

The General’s voice was little more than noise as he muttered something about not pulling too late. Joke’s on him. I was going to pull the second I hit open air.

A hard shove against my back, and I was free-falling.

The sky opened up around me, a rush of wind and chaos. I twisted in the air, searching for stability, and when I finally found it, I yanked the cord.

My chute burst open with a violent jolt. I grunted, breath knocked from my lungs, and tore off the blindfold.

My descent slowed.

The world stretched wide and vivid around me, blue sky like a painting, trees below thick and lush, endless. I turned slightly, scanning the horizon. I couldn’t see anything above me except the wide extended chute. No sign of the plane. No sign of Thorne.

But I had to trust. Had to believe he was falling toward me now. Watching my chute, lining up his drop.

I adjusted the cords, steering the best I could with zero training. A break in the trees caught my eye, a small clearing. Perfect. I swore softly, trying to hold my course as the wind fought me for control.

Closer. Closer.

My feet hit the ground running, catching the momentum before stumbling to a stop. The chute collapsed behind me in a heap of fabric.

I didn’t waste a second .

I looked up.

A figure was plummeting through the air, chute tangled, twisting violently in the wind, refusing to catch. My heart leapt into my throat.

“No. No, no, no,” I whispered, then screamed, feet already moving beneath me as I ran toward the falling shape. “Come on, untangle, untangle, please.”

The chute I’d abandoned dragged behind me, and just as I gained speed, it caught on something. My body jerked back.

“No!” I howled, ripping at the harness, tears stinging my eyes. But it was too late.

The figure fell fast, too fast, and then vanished into the treetops with a sickening crash that echoed in my bones.

My knees buckled. I hit the ground hard, sobs tearing through me as I pressed my forehead into the dirt.

“No. No. No.”

Thorne. My twin. My other half.

Gone.

He knew why I campaigned for this. Knew why I fought so hard to be chosen. I always knew I’d have to watch my own back in the Run, but when they called his name, out of nearly ten thousand…I felt real fear for the first time.

And now… he’s gone.

“Whoa, shit! Are you hurt?” a voice called from the edge of the clearing.

I froze. My head jerked up.

Thorne.

Jogging toward me. Alive.

I dropped my pack, sprinted to him, and threw my arms around his shoulders. Relief crashed into me like a tidal wave.

“I thought you– how did you…” I looked over my shoulder, to the place I’d seen the body fall. “I thought you were dead,” I whispered, my voice breaking .

“Hey,” Thorne murmured, holding me close, one hand cradling the back of my head. “I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay, sis.”

I pulled back just slightly, enough to speak. “Someone didn’t make it. Their chute didn’t open right. They landed just over there. I thought it was you.”

“Shit,” Thorne said, turning to look. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

A new, sharper fear hit me.

What if it was Brexlyn Hollis? The captivating clever girl from Canyon.

No, no, she hadn’t been called yet. It had to be someone from Ironclad. It had to be.

I nodded, forcing myself to breathe. Reminding myself that he was alive. He was okay. He was with me. We packed up my chute, stuffed it into the pack, and started walking, toward the place where someone had fallen. Toward whoever hadn’t been as lucky.

It took us about ten minutes to reach the place where I’d seen the Challenger fall. The path was easy to trace, snapped branches, scuffed bark, a trail of destruction carved through the trees.

A tangled chute hung like a ghost in the canopy, trailing down through the limbs. Below, half-buried in a pile of broken branches and leaves, a leg jutted out at an unnatural angle.

Thorne let out a low sigh and took a step forward, but I caught his shoulder, stopping him.

We could see there was a body. What we couldn’t see from where we stood was their face, and I didn’t want Praxis to see it either.

I couldn’t stomach the thought of them using the footage from my camera to splash this death across the screens, turning it into entertainment. The first casualty of the Run.

I switched my camera off. The red recording light blinked out.

Thorne didn’t say a word. He just reached up and did the same.

Only when both lights were dark did we step forward.

It was the chosen Challenger from Ironclad, Dominic Shallow. I’d spoken to him briefly at the ball the night before. He had a wife and a kid waiting for him back home. He told me he was scared.

I was good at getting people to open up, to feel safe around me. He’d confided that he didn’t care about winning or bringing home resources for his Collective, he just wanted to survive. To make it back to them.

My throat tightened, and tears blurred my vision again. At that moment, I was grateful for it. It softened the image of the broken body in front of me.

I stepped forward, and Thorne instinctively moved with me. Together, we gently pulled Dominic from the wreckage of twisted branches and splintered wood, laying him on a patch of even ground.

Thorne slid Dominic’s pack from his back, while I climbed up and tore the chute from the branches. We spread it out and draped it over him like a shroud. When he was finally covered, I turned my camera back on. I only got four hours of uninterrupted time a day.

At least now, his family wouldn’t have to see the pain frozen on his face.

Thorne picked up Dominic’s pack and slung it over his shoulder. It felt wrong, taking from the dead, but if it meant keeping my brother alive, I’d carry the guilt .

“Come on,” I said softly. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

I gave one last look at the form beneath the chute, then turned and started walking toward Praxis.

The first night was brutal.

We found water in a winding river that was carving through the forest like a silver scar. For a while, we followed it, Thorne insisting we stick close. “Rivers always lead to civilization,” he’d said. But after hours of hiking, it started curving south and looping back.

We’d reach Praxis eventually if we stayed on that path, but it would take forever. Time we didn’t have.

We filled our canteens, even the one we found in Dominic’s pack. Then Thorne finally did what we’d been putting off and consolidated all the useful supplies into his own bag and ditched the extra pack.

Leaving it behind felt like leaving Dominic all over again. God forgive me.

We fought over it, loud, bitter words in the silence of the forest. But eventually, he agreed to veer from the river and cut directly through The Wilds. It was a risk, but it would get us to Praxis faster. And if anyone was equipped to make the journey, it was us.

Darkbranch was built on terrain like this, with thick forests, jagged cliffs, restless wildlife. Thorne and I had been hunting since we were old enough to hold a bow. But this time, we were unarmed. No weapons, no traps. Just instincts and desperation.

We needed food, and soon .

Thorne, idiot that he is, ate his entire jerky stick the moment he found it. Like it was a snack, not survival rations.

Now we only had half of mine and whatever Dominic had in his pack. Not nearly enough to get us through the Wilds.

“We’ll have to hunt,” I said, scanning the undergrowth.

“You even seen anything out here?” Thorne asked, a little too casually, but I could hear the edge of hunger in his voice.

“Not the animals themselves. But there’s signs.” I crouched, brushing the dirt aside with my fingers. “Look.”

A paw print. Broad, deep. Still fresh.

“Bobcat,” I muttered.

Thorne whistled low. “Big one?”

“Big enough to feed us for a couple days, if we’re careful.”

He looked down at the print, then up at me. “So we track it?”

I nodded. “We track it.”

We slipped into old rhythms, falling into step like we were back in Darkbranch woods back before Pa died when he taught us how to track. Thorne was a pattern-reader, he could look at broken twigs and displaced moss and tell you which way something turned, how fast it was moving. I was tuned into the terrain itself, listening to the rhythm of the forest, feeling the shift in energy when something nearby moved.

We followed the trail, paw prints, broken branches, scraped bark. Silent. Focused.

Then we heard it.

A scream. High-pitched. Terrified. Feminine. It was cut off by a snarl, low, guttural, and unmistakably feline.

For a split second, Thorne and I locked eyes. Then we were moving, sprinting through the trees, leaping over roots and ducking under branches.

We didn’t say a word. We didn’t have to .

Someone was in trouble, and this time I was going to get there before it was too late.

The cat had someone pinned, its claws digging in as the figure beneath it thrashed and screamed, fighting like hell. Whoever it was, they weren’t giving up easily.

Thorne didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, instincts sharp and deadly, and brought a rock down hard on the creature’s skull. The crack echoed through the trees. The cat gave a final twitch, then collapsed in a heavy heap.

I exhaled sharply, the tension in my chest unraveling all at once.

Then I saw her face.

Bex.

Relief crashed over me so hard my knees nearly gave out. If we’d been even a minute later…if we hadn’t heard that scream…

I shoved the thought down as I rushed to her side. She was still struggling, still panicked, pinned beneath the weight of the cat’s body. Her limbs flailed, breaths coming fast and shallow.

“Hey, hey, Hollis, don’t worry,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady despite the adrenaline still burning in my veins. “We got you.”

Thorne and I hauled the dead, bleeding creature off of her, and the moment its weight was gone, she shot upright, wild-eyed and breathless.

And then, God, she looked at me.

Hair tangled, cheeks flushed, dirt and blood streaking across her jaw, and I swear, I forgot how to breathe. Even covered in grime, she was luminous. Unshaken spirit blazing behind her eyes.

Then she launched herself into us, arms thrown around our necks. I let out a sharp breath, startled, but then I melted into the warmth of her. My arms found her waist almost on instinct.

Thorne, ever the devil, chuckled. I didn’t have to look to know he’d caught the stunned look on my face. And sure enough, the moment she pulled back, wiping her eyes, he shot me a knowing wink over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and I could still feel the ghost of her touch on my chest. “I really thought that was it.”

“Not a problem, love,” Thorne said with that infuriating grin, already bending to snatch up the blood-slicked rock he’d used to bash the creature’s skull. My brother, ever the improvisor.

He turned to me with a smirk. “Not bad for a little improvisation, huh, sis?”

I rolled my eyes, crouching beside the creature to get a better look at it, anything to hide the smile tugging at my lips.

“Yes, yes, you're the almighty hunter, and we should all sing your praises,” I muttered. He snorted, pleased with himself.

Then I looked up at Bex again. She was watching me, long golden hair catching the sunlight through the trees, something unspoken lingering in her expression. My chest tightened.

“So, Hollis,” I said, meeting her gaze, letting the corners of my mouth curl up just a little. “What do you say?”

I gave her my best grin, heart hammering beneath my ribs. “Let’s eat.”

“Alright, I’ll get it ready,” Thorne said, already crouching beside the feline’s body. “You go start a fire somewhere.”

“Get it ready?” Bex asked, brow raised.

“Gotta prepare the meat, love,” Thorne replied with a grin that had far too much innuendo packed into it as he began tying the creature’s legs with cords from the chute. I shot him a glare, but when I caught the way her cheeks flushed pink, the irritation melted into something warmer.

“Wanna keep me company?” Thorne asked, cocking his head with that stupid smirk.

“While you skin an animal?” she said dryly. “Thank you, but no.”

And then she stepped toward me. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. I cast a smug glance over my shoulder at Thorne. His answering glare said ‘ game on’ loud and clear.

“Come on, Hollis,” I said, voice softening as I placed a hand at the small of her back. “Help me get the fire going.”

She didn’t pull away. My hand stayed there, light and careful, guiding her away from the bloodied scene. It felt like something small, but significant, like trust was settling between us. And I wanted her to trust us. I needed her to. Because something in me had already decided that I’d do whatever it took to make sure she survived these Wilds.

I found a small clearing, open enough that the fire wouldn’t catch on anything nearby. Safe. Controlled. When I started gathering kindling, I glanced up and saw her doing the same. No complaints. No hesitation.

Of course she was like that. Brave. Steady. I felt that in her when I watched her interview. And I could sense it when I spoke with her.

And dammit, I was already in trouble.

“Thanks,” I said, as we gathered the firewood into a pile. I crouched beside it, arranging the pieces in a way that would catch easily. Bex sat on a hollowed-out log nearby, watching with quiet focus, like she was memorizing every move. Maybe she was. I noticed she did that. Watched people, studied things. I had been watching her for a few minutes before I spoke to her at the ball. Her eyes darted around like she was committing everything to memory. Taking a mental snapshot of the world around her.

I collected the kindling, struck a match from the small pack I kept tucked away, and coaxed the flame to life. I didn’t need the match, I could’ve done it without them, but this was quicker. Within moments, the fire crackled, steady and bright.

When I was sure it would last, I looked over at her. She was still watching me.

“How did you know how to do that?” she asked.

“Darkbranch is a lot like The Wilds,” I said, brushing ash from my fingers. “We grew up in the woods. We’re comfortable here.”

She nodded thoughtfully. The flickering light played across her features, beautiful and bloodied. Splatter from the cat still marked her skin, dried in small, harsh flecks across her cheek and temple. I hated seeing it there, marring the face that had already started to haunt my thoughts.

I pulled my pack over and sat beside her on the log. The wood groaned under our weight. From inside my bag, I retrieved my canteen and the strip of fabric that used to be my blindfold. I poured a little water onto the cloth, then turned to her.

“Let me help?” I asked, voice low.

Her eyes, clear, bright, and impossibly blue, met mine. Something passed between us in that silence, then she gave a small nod.

Gently, I reached up and began to clean the blood from her face. My fingers moved slowly, careful not to startle her. Careful not to linger too long, even though every brush of the cloth against her skin made me want to memorize the feel of her. I was aware, acutely, of how much water I was using, how stupid it was to waste it, but I didn’t care. Not right now. She deserved to feel like herself, without the remnants of the attack splattered across her features.

As I moved toward her cheek, she winced. I immediately pulled back, heart lurching.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concern tightening my voice.

“I cut myself in the landing,” she said. Now that the blood was gone, I could see the thin slice beneath it. Not deep, but raw. Angry.

“I’ve got it,” I said softly. I returned to the task with even more care, dabbing gently, making sure I didn’t hurt her again.

After a moment, I let the silence stretch, then said, “So... how’s it been so far? You know, aside from the whole bobcat trying to eat you alive, part.”

Her mouth curved into a crooked, tired smile, and she laughed. The sound went directly to my core, but I forced a breath to calm my thoughts.

The fire crackled between us, sending small, fleeting sparks into the night sky. The warmth of it felt oddly comforting, like a shield against the wildness of the world outside the circle of light we’d created.

Bex stared into the flames, her expression distant, but I could see the tension still pulling at the corners of her face. She seemed to be sorting through something in her head, gathering the words she needed before speaking.

“I got stuck in a tree about twenty feet up on my way down,” she started, her voice soft but with a hint of amusement. “Was about three seconds from failing this trial before it even began.”

Her eyes never left the fire, but I could see the way her brow furrowed, that tight crease between her eyes that told me just how close she’d been to a fate similar to Dominic’s. I felt a small pang of protectiveness for her .

I let out a low sigh, my voice low but playful. “I landed in a clearing, lucky for me. I’m not much of a tree climber.”

She looked up at me then, a smirk playing on her lips, though I could still see the remnants of the nerves beneath her eyes. “But I thought you were a woodswoman. Shouldn’t climbing be one of your skills?” she teased.

I couldn’t resist. “Well, you know, I’m better at falling,” I replied, the flirtation slipping into my words so easily.

Her eyes softened, but she didn’t break eye contact. I hoped I hadn’t pushed her too far. Flirty innuendos were more my brother’s expertise, but something about her made me want to rise to the challenge.

After a moment, she spoke again, almost as though she was letting the air settle. “How did you find Thorne?”

I paused, pulling my thoughts back to that moment. “I pulled my chute as early as I could to slow my fall. Told him to aim for me when he jumped right after me.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That was... clever.”

I grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “I’m glad it worked. I wouldn’t have been able to focus on getting back to Praxis if I was worried about trying to find my brother out here. Not that he couldn’t handle it on his own. But…”

“You can focus when you know he’s safe,” she finished for me, her voice soft, understanding. Her gaze held mine, steady and warm.

“Yeah, exactly,” I said quietly.

“It was a good plan, I’m glad it worked,” she offered, and there was something in her tone that made me feel like she genuinely admired me, and I wasn’t used to that. I felt my chest puff out a little in pride.

“Told you the kind of muscles you need to survive these trials aren’t all right here,” I teased, giving her a playful nudge on the upper arm.

The moment my hand touched her arm, I felt the subtle shift in her body, a tiny catch in her breath that made something deep inside me stir. Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, I could see the way her pulse quickened ever so slightly, the softening of her features. She inhaled softly, and the sound did something to my insides, making it impossible to ignore the way my heart started to race.

“I’m glad you’re safe” I said, my voice suddenly thick with something I couldn’t quite name.

She gave me a look, one that sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m glad you found me.”

“Me too,” I whispered in return. Our faces were close enough that I could feel her cool breath on my lips. My eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes to find she was studying me too, breath shallow.

I sat back then, needing a little space before I did something stupid, like kiss her. I leaned back, watching the fire dance in front of us, its flames reaching for the sky. Her gaze followed the movement, and soon we were both silently mesmerized by the flickering light. Without realizing it at first, I began to hum softly, a gentle sound escaping my lips. The hum turned into words, and before I knew it, I was singing quietly into the night.

“I walk the path where the wild things grow,

Where the pine trees whisper and the rivers flow,

With each step, I feel the earth beneath my feet,

In the woods, I find my heart's steady beat.”

I felt her eyes on me, but the spirit of the song had taken over. I couldn’t stop, not now that the words were flowing freely.

“In the woods I am, and the woods are me,

A part of the leaves and the sky so free.

The wind in my hair, the sun on my skin,

In the woods I’m where wild things begin.”

The last note lingered in the air, and for a moment, silence fell between us. The crackling of the fire was the only sound.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered, her voice soft and sincere. I looked over at her, finding her leaning forward, her arms resting on her knees as she watched me. “What is that song?”

“Something my Pa taught me, once upon a time,” I replied, my voice quiet but steady.

She nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful. “I haven’t heard music in…” she paused, trying to find the words. “I don’t even know how long. Well, aside from the Praxis anthem.”

I nodded in return, understanding.

“Darkbranch hasn’t placed in the entertainment trial in a long time either,” I added, trying not to let the weight of that truth show on my features. “It’s been a while since we’ve had music there too.”

She shook her head, her grip on my hand tightening. Her face leaned closer to mine, the warmth of her breath mingling with the cool night air. “You are the music, Briar.”

My chest tightened, the words stirring something deep inside me. I felt the sting in my eyes, the threat of tears lingering just beneath the surface.

She saw it. “Do you have anyone waiting for you back in Darkbranch?” she asked gently, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet.

I shook my head. “Thorne’s all I got left… You?”

“I have Jax,” she replied. “And Ava.” My chest tightened with a sad sort of jealousy.

“Your partner?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I had assumed there was something between her and Ezra, anyone could see the way they looked at each other at the Welcome Ball, but I guess a selfish part of me had hoped there was room for me.

“Best friend,” she replied, with the slightest bit of a knowing smirk. I grinned, unable to resist the pull between us. I leaned toward her slightly, keeping my gaze on her, watching the firelight flicker in her eyes.

“Ah,” I said, meeting her eyes again. The tension between us pulled taut and thick.

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to force myself not to claim her lips with mine, and her eyes hungrily tracked the movement.

“Hollis.. I…”

“Good evening, and welcome to Restaurante de la Grey !” Thorne exclaimed dramatically, carrying the prepared meat piled on a thin slab of stone into the clearing with the flair of a seasoned chef.

I gave Bex a quick smile, before gifting my brother with an exaggerated eye roll. I sat back, putting much needed space between her and I.

“On the menu tonight, you'll find my specialty. Big cat a la... uh... delicious.”

Bex laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she snickered at my brother’s ability to turn any moment into something fun and airy. Honestly, I’d be jealous of his charm if I didn’t get to bask in the way her laughter sounded like music in my ears.

“We recommend pairing this delectable meal with some of our finest water, straight from the dirty-ass river, with minimal filtration,” Thorne continued, his grin widening as he set the meat down by the fire with an exaggerated flourish.

Bex’s eyes sparkled as she watched him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Sounds perfect,” she replied with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Thorne, ever the flirt, slid into the seat next to her with all the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly how to make an entrance. He pressed his side against hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I rolled my eyes at my brother’s antics but couldn't help the way my chest tightened as I saw how easily he made her smile.

I’d never felt jealous of the people Thorne gave his affection to, probably because our tastes rarely overlapped. And when they did, it never felt like competition. It felt… natural. Back home in Darkbranch, some people raised eyebrows when we dated the same girl, but to us, it made sense.

After we lost our parents, there were parts of us that never quite healed. Big, jagged spaces that no one person could fill. Loving someone together wasn’t unconventional, it was about making sure that person never had to carry the full weight of either of us alone. We shared that responsibility, that tenderness, because we knew what it meant to be broken. And neither of us wanted to let someone we loved feel that way.

I never found it strange, if anything, I found comfort in it. I liked knowing that the girl I cared about was also cared for by someone I trusted.

For a brief, dangerously tempting moment, I wondered if Bex would mind letting us care for her.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I got to work on cooking the meat, making sure it was perfectly seared over the fire. The sizzle and crackle of the flames filled the air, and I did my best to focus on the task, even though the low hum of Thorne and Bex’s banter kept pulling at my attention.

When the meal was ready, we all dug in with eager hunger. We pressed our hands against our stomachs when we'd eaten our fill, groaning in contentment .

“Five stars,” Bex said, her voice light but warm, and I felt a small flicker of pride that my brother had managed to make the evening feel almost normal.

Thorne grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Would you like to see our dessert menu?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, tempting pitch.

I couldn’t help but glance up at them, just in time to see Thorne lean in closer, his breath teasing her neck. The way her body reacted sent a jolt through me, her breath hitched softly, her cheeks flushed with a delicate pink that made something deep in me stir. I couldn’t help but notice the way her thighs pressed together ever so slightly.

I could think of a desert I’d like to taste.

I think she knew where my mind had gone because she met my gaze with a fiery expression.

I felt the temperature around the fire rise, my heart rate picking up, but then my eyes flicked to the cameras strapped to Thorne and Bex's chests, and I knew I needed to get it together before we gave them more of a show than they'd signed up for.

“Let’s set up camp for the night,” I said, trying to sound casual, “We’ll hit it hard tomorrow.”

Thorne grinned like a mischievous child. “Yes, we’re very good at hitting it hard,” he replied, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.

Bex, mid-sip of water, choked and spat it out, her cheeks turning a shade of red that I couldn't help but notice. I threw my pack at Thorne, he caught it with a huff. I groaned and ran a hand down my face, exasperated, but I couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto my lips. Maybe a few days hike in the woods wouldn’t be all that bad with her by our side.