Page 20

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Bex

The next morning arrived faster than any of us wanted.

We’d slept through most of the day after the livestock challenge, our bodies wrecked from staying up all night fending off those damn wolves. Credit where it’s due, the Architects of this year’s trials weren’t pulling their punches. Every test felt crueler than the last.

I loved my little team. My Wildguard. And if I’m honest, there was something intoxicating about knowing other people out there loved what we were building too. But Zaffir’s warning clung to the edges of my mind like a shadow in my sleep. If I wanted to protect the people I loved, if I wanted to keep Jax safe, the smart move was to keep my head down, stay quiet, and survive long enough to get home.

But that’s what we’ve all been doing since Praxis took control, falling in line, biting our tongues, keeping low to avoid the crushing weight of their rule. And where had that gotten us? Fighting to the death for scraps, living without the basic things every human deserves, while Praxis perched in their ivory towers, drowning in luxury and excess.

I didn’t realize how wide the gap truly was until I got here, walking these streets, treated like one of them, even if it was all for show. Things my people had bled for, died for, and been denied generation after generation, were handed to Praxis citizens like candy tossed to children at a parade.

It was almost enough to ignite something dangerous in me. A voice that nearly begged me to take this moment and use it. A flicker of rebellion in my chest.

Almost.

But every time it started to spark, Jax’s face cut through the flames, bright and all the reason I needed to hold the line. I couldn’t risk everything, not for a dream I might never live to see.

I was just one girl, after all. And one girl could never change the world.

I kept to my typical morning routine, and made my way to the kitchen where I found Zaffir. He sat at the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on something on the screen in front of him. His eyes narrowed as if whatever he was reading was clawing at his nerves. When I stepped up beside him, he flinched, just for a second, before his shoulders eased at the sight of me.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, and I liked the way the words sent a flutter to my chest.

“Good morning, Zaffir,” I answered. Finding a mug and pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“How did you sleep?” he asked. I smiled and turned over my shoulder to glance at him.

“Fine,” I said. “And you?”

He nodded. “Was up pretty late preparing for this evening. ”

His eyes darted down to the screen in front of him, his brows furrowed and his hands fidgeting.

“What’s on your mind this morning?” I asked, taking my cup and leaning on the counter opposite of him.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied, entirely unconvincingly. I gave him a pointed stare until he sighed. But it was shaky and disjointed. Not at all the cool collected Zaffir I’d grown accustomed to seeing.

“I’m just…nervous. About your trial. The interview,” he said, not meeting my gaze.

I nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

There was panic in his gaze, I felt it from across the room, painful and thick. His breath was shallow, chest rising too fast, too hard. His fingers twitched like he was fighting his own body, like he didn’t know where to put his hands.

My feet were moving before I realized it. I crossed the space in a blink, stepping up beside him and pulling his head to my chest. He came apart in my arms, every rigid muscle trembling before melting into me. I held him tighter, grounding him, anchoring him. His arms circled my waist with a desperation that stole the breath from my lungs. It cracked something wide open in my chest.

I didn’t say anything. Just held him. Quiet and steady, as his breathing slowed, as the storm inside him dulled to a quiet hum. His grip loosened. His jaw unclenched. The panic passed. We just breathed together.

After a long moment, he pulled back, just far enough to look up at me. There was a pause, charged and heavy. A breath where everything could tilt, shift, break wide open. His gaze flicked down to my lips, then back up to meet my eyes.

We hadn’t kissed since that morning with Ezra, both of us caught in that rush of lust and adrenaline. We’d never touched like that without that heady desire buzzing through us. I told myself that’s all it was. Lust. Blind passion. It couldn’t be anything else. He’s Praxis. I can’t feel this way about him.

And yet.

He looked at me like he was asking. Not demanding, not expecting, just asking. And I couldn’t think of a single reason to say no.

So I didn’t.

He kissed me. Soft. Careful. Nothing like the man who’d once ordered me to touch myself for his viewing pleasure. This kiss was real. Raw. Sweet and terrifying and perfect.

His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened for him, let him in. My hands tangled in his wild red hair. He gripped my waist, pulling me closer. Always closer. Still not close enough.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine. Our breath mingled, warm and slow.

“I’m feeling much better now,” Zaffir murmured, a smile in his voice.

I laughed, soft and breathless, smacking his shoulder playfully before slipping out of his hold and stepping back behind the counter, before I could change my mind and stay right there, forever.

“I mean it,” he said, smiling brightly at me. “Thank you.”

I nodded. And a quiet moment passed between us. There were feelings and emotions swirling within me. None of which I was prepared to address so I changed the subject.

“Got any advice for me today?” I asked, keeping my voice light, teasing.

He met my eyes, and there was a quick flash of fear. Not for himself, for me.

“I wish I did,” he said, voice low. “It’s… a brutal one.”

I gave a small nod. I didn’t want to put him at risk. Even wanting to ask felt selfish.

“Can you tell me anything?” I probed.

He nodded. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Of course I’m not,” I answered, trying to hide the fear in my tone.

“They intend to take advantage of the pairs of Challengers that are still in the Run,” he said. And when he noticed the confusion on my face he clarified, “You and Ezra will be partnering for this trial.”

Okay. That didn’t seem too bad. But there were only fifteen of us left. A few Collectives had already lost Challengers.

“Some Collective’s don’t have two Challengers anymore,” I pointed out. The color drained from his face.

“I know,” he said quietly.

And in that instant, I knew this trial was going to take a particularly rough toll.

“We’ll be okay,” I answered. Not surprised that I meant it. Ezra and I were a good team, I trusted him and if we needed to work together to make it through this trial, I knew we could do it. I also knew Briar and Thorne had been having each other’s backs since birth, so they would no doubt be able to handle anything the Architects threw at us, too.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “You will.”

He tapped something on his screen, hesitated for a moment, then stood.

“I need to hit the restroom before we leave,” he announced a little too loudly, performing for whatever unseen eyes might be watching. Then he slipped away, leaving the screen open on the counter.

I frowned after him. Was that intentional?

Curiosity pulled me around the counter, and I glanced at the display. A mess of images, parts of something I didn’t recognize, tubes, hoses and nozzles that meant nothing to me. My stomach twisted. Maybe I’d imagined the moment. Maybe he wasn’t trying to tell me anything at all. And now I was being nosey.

I shook my head and turned toward the door. The transport would be arriving soon. And whatever waited for us out there, it wouldn’t care whether I was ready or not.

Nova arrived, with all her effervescent and bone-chilling tenacity. She handed each of us a bag with our wardrobe for the trial. Skin-tight wetsuits, a dead giveaway that water was going to be involved in whatever was coming. Then the four of us were separated into two different vehicles. Ezra and I in one, and Thorne and Briar took the other.

We pulled up to a sprawling warehouse, its massive structure stretching for what felt like miles in every direction. Endless corridors and towering walls blurred past the windows as the transport carried us to the front entrance.

Cameras were already in place, Zaffir among them, and a crowd of eager fans had gathered, their cheers rising in a wave as Ezra and I stepped from the vehicle. Their excitement felt electric, but all I could think about was what kind of hell waited for us inside.

I searched the area for the other Challengers but saw no one as we were led through the doors and into a windowless room. Zaffir trailed behind, camera in hand, recording every tense step as the door shut firmly behind us.

The room was empty, no props, no clues, nothing but the door we’d come through and another one straight ahead. A single, ominous exit. The air felt heavy with anticipation.

Another trial, another nightmare.

A crackle over a hidden speaker cut through the heavy silence of the room.

“Welcome, Challengers,” came the sickly-sweet voice of Annalese Wyley, the ever-cheerful host of this nightmare. Her voice echoed from somewhere overhead, far too chipper for what we knew was coming. “Who’s ready for the next trial?”

Silence. Not a single one of us gave her the satisfaction of a response.

“Today’s challenge is for water filtration systems,” she continued brightly. “As all members of the Collectives know, clean drinking water is vital to the survival of a functioning society.”

Especially in the desert. I stole a glance at Ezra, who gave me a stiff, terse nod. We both knew how important this one was, how it could mean life or death for our people back home.

“Beneath your feet,” Annalese went on, “runs miles of submerged tunnels and canals. Hidden within those flooded passages, you’ll find the scattered components of a water filtration system. Your goal is to collect the correct pieces and assemble the system before your partner is submerged in water.”

The blood drained from my face. My lungs tightened.

“But you must be careful,” she added, voice dipped in a mock warning. “Some of the pieces are decoys. Grab too many, and you’ll be weighed down. Grab the wrong ones, and… well.” A pause. “You might run out of time.”

I turned toward Ezra, reading the storm already brewing behind his eyes.

“Now,” Annalese’s voice chimed back in, “for those of you lucky enough to still have two Challengers left, it’s decision time. One of you will dive. The other will be bound in the filtration chamber. Putting your life in your partner's hands. For those Collectives where only one Challenger remains, you will be diving. Make your decisions now.”

I barely had time to register the words before Ezra stepped forward .

“I’ll swim,” he said quickly, his voice tight but steady. “I’m fast. I can carry more, even if I don’t know what’s what. Let me do this. I swear, Bex, I swear I’ll keep you safe.”

His eyes were pleading. I could see it, could feel it.

I glanced toward Zaffir in the corner, his camera trained on us. But for a fleeting second, his expression softened, and he gave me the smallest, almost imperceptible nod.

I inhaled sharply.

“No.” My voice was firmer than I expected. I turned my full gaze back to Ezra. “I’ve seen a water filtration system before.” Just this morning, actually, but I wasn’t going to say that. “I know what to look for. I can do this.”

He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but stopped. Maybe it was the finality in my voice. Or maybe the fact that deep down, he knew this was the smarter call.

I gave him a small, grim smile. “I can do this.”

“I know you can,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear and letting his hand rest on my cheek.

“You just stay alive for me, okay?” he asked.

“You too,” I whispered, and to hell with the cameras. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to Ezra’s lips. For a moment, the world outside of us disappeared, no trials, no fans, no cameras. Just the warmth of his hands settling around my waist and the familiar press of his forehead against mine when we parted.

He held me there for one precious, stolen moment, both of us knowing it very well could be our last.

“Please send out the Challenger who will be staying behind,” Annalese’s voice echoed once more, slicing through the silence like a blade.

Ezra drew in a steadying breath, his thumb brushing once against my hip. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, voice low and rough with emotion, then turned and disappeared through the unexplored door at the front of the room.

I was left alone in the quiet, every second stretching unbearably long. My palms itched. My pulse hammered. I tried to stay still, to keep my nerves invisible, but my fingers betrayed me, fidgeting with the seam of my wetsuit as minutes crawled past.

Finally, the speaker crackled again. “Challengers, please enter the room.”

I swallowed hard, squared my shoulders, and moved toward the door Ezra had vanished through.

The room on the other side was massive, its walls made of smooth, cold concrete. A single, enormous tank dominated the center of the chamber, easily ten feet tall, maybe more. It was a simple hulking cylinder of reinforced glass. The whole room curved around it like an arena, with walkways leading up to it and overhead rigging clinging to the high ceiling.

And inside the tank were ten figures.

Each one was chained by their wrists to thick metal poles bolted to the tank floor. My breath hitched when I found Ezra, his emerald eyes cutting through the haze to find me instantly. His expression was fierce, burning with a kind of protective anger, but also filled with something softer, something meant just for me.

I dragged my gaze around the tank, scanning the others. Thorne stood a few places down from Ezra, his lips curling into that intoxicatingly smug grin even now. It felt grotesquely out of place, but in a strange way, I was grateful for it. The fear hadn’t claimed him yet. Or if it had he wouldn’t let the cameras see it.

I searched for Briar next, heart pounding, but before I could spot her, a piercing scream ripped through the room.

“No! ”

It was Dani Cale of Steelheart. She bolted toward the tank, her hands slapping hard against the glass. “No, please! Not my son!” Her voice cracked like a whip in the tense chamber.

My stomach lurched as my eyes snapped to the figure she was staring at. A boy. No older than thirteen, maybe younger. His face pale, eyes rimmed red and wide with terror as he clung to the chain around his wrists. His gaze never left Dani, silently begging, sobbing without sound.

A horrible understanding settled over me like a lead blanket.

Dani’s Collective partner, Winnie, was dead. And in her place, Praxis had dragged someone Dani loved into this, a son who’d never been chosen, who shouldn’t have even been here.

Around the room, more cries of anguish erupted.

Gasps. Curses. Shouts. Someone punched at the tank with no luck. Someone else sank to their knees.

There were five others like the boy, faces I didn’t recognize, people who weren’t Challengers. A middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair. A young man, barely older than me, his hand gripping the chain so tightly his knuckles had gone bone white. A father. A mother. A child. A wife.

They’d plucked them from their Collectives to fill empty slots. Collateral. Leverage. A message.

This is what happens when you fail. This is what you risk.

The air thickened with grief and fury. Tears shimmered in the eyes of hardened competitors. Rage simmered beneath trembling hands. I felt it too, a storm rising in my chest, sharp and bitter.

But through the horror, a single, selfish relief clawed its way to the surface…It wasn’t Jax. My brother wasn’t in that tank.

I let myself have that one breath, one quiet, desperate thank you to whatever force of chance had spared him this time. I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with Ezra once more. He was still watching me, his expression unreadable through the fogged glass and swirling water, but his eyes were unwavering. I clung to that look, let it steady me.

This was too far. Too much. The tiny spark of unrest that had been growing in my chest flamed to life.

Around us, Praxis guards moved in, shoving the other Challengers back into formation with rough, unflinching hands. Boots thudded against the grated metal catwalk we stood upon, a caged floor suspended high above a rushing channel of water. The current below snarled like a living thing, violent and relentless.

Annalese’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers again, unnervingly cheerful against the charged, frantic air. “You must retrieve the pieces of the water filtration system and return them here. Only then can you release your partner from the tank.”

I felt my pulse surge, my fingers twitching at my sides.

“You have…” she began, but her voice was drowned out by a massive, metallic groan. A thick, rusted pipe leading to the tank lurched open, and water burst forth with a deafening roar. It gushed into the chamber, cascading in fat, cold streams as the tank began to fill. Annalese’s voice barely cut through it.

“...until they drown. Go!”

Before I could move, the floor beneath my feet split open.

I barely had time to suck in a startled gasp before the ground vanished and frigid water swallowed me whole. It hit like a fist, stealing the warmth from my limbs and leaving my skin prickling and numb. I kicked hard, breaking the surface long enough to snatch a long thick breath before diving under again.

There was no time. No margin for hesitation.

Ezra was counting on me .

I propelled myself through the submerged tunnel, cold water biting at my skin, my lungs already aching from the shock of the drop. The walls of the narrow shaft scraped against my shoulders as I swam, and each twist in the passage forced me deeper into a maze of submerged corridors.

It wasn’t a straight shot.

These canals were winding, disorienting, a labyrinth designed to waste time we didn’t have. There were sharp turns and dead ends, narrow channels barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. And nowhere… nowhere… to breathe.

My chest burned, pressure building as my lungs begged for air. I fought against the rising panic clawing at the edges of my mind. Not yet. Not yet.

I spotted an offshoot just off to the left.

Kicking hard off the nearest wall, I headed toward it and burst into a tiny, domed chamber where a pocket of stale air waited like a blessing. I gasped, the air tasting sour and metallic, but it filled my lungs just the same. I coughed, clinging to the rough stone wall as my body trembled with adrenaline. I spied on the peak of the dome a camera, pointed down at me. I wanted to look away from it. Not make eye contact with the people watching and waiting for me to fail.

Something caught my eye at the bottom of the chamber, a glint of metal or hardened plastic.

I dove without thinking, hands outstretched, fingers closing around a cold, cylindrical object. It was heavy and slick, but I clutched it tight and surged back toward the pocket of air, breaking the surface with a sharp gasp.

I turned the object over in my hand, water streaming down my wrist. Recognition struck fast.

This was one of the tubes from Zaffir’s diagram. I could see it clear as day in my mind, thanks to the picture he provided me with this morning .

I needed to thank him for that if I made it out of here alive.

No. Not if.

When.

“One down,” I whispered, my voice ragged and hoarse in the confined air pocket. No time to savor the win.

I drew in another deep breath, pushing off the wall and plunging forward into the next stretch of tunnels, my mind already calculating, how long until the next air pocket? How many pieces were out there? How fast was the tank filling?

No time.

I swam harder.

By the time I reached the next pocket of air, my chest felt like it was caving in. Every muscle in my body screamed for rest, for warmth, for oxygen. I’d come across two decoy pieces and one nozzle I actually needed. Three more pieces. Three more, and then I had to somehow find my way back to the tank. Back to Ezra. The thought alone made my head swim, whether from determination or the steadily growing lack of air, I wasn’t sure.

I probably lingered too long in that tiny chamber, greedily dragging in precious, ragged breaths of the stale, metallic air. My head throbbed, a pulse pounding between my temples like a drumbeat, and dark spots bloomed at the edges of my vision.

A sudden splash tore through the silence.

A figure burst up beside me, water surging with the movement, and I jerked back in alarm, my shoulders slamming against the cold, slick wall. The chamber was barely big enough for one of us, let alone two.

It was Devrin, Saltspire’s elected. His wild, furious eyes met mine as he surfaced beside me, gasping like a drowning man, a low, feral growl rising from his throat. He sucked in a breath and then his gaze dropped to my hands .

To the objects I held.

I followed his gaze and felt my stomach drop. His hands were empty. No tubes. No nozzles. Nothing.

Panic bolted through me.

“No-” I managed to utter, voice ragged and cracked, but he was already moving.

Devrin surged forward, shoving through the water with vicious intent. His hands clamped down on my shoulders and drove me back against the wall, my head snapping against the cement with a sickening crack. A burst of pain exploded through the back of my skull, hot and cold at once, and the world tilted sideways.

“Stop!” I shouted, thrashing in his iron grip, but my limbs felt sluggish, disobedient.

His hands slid down, rough and possessive, searching, until they found the tube and nozzle clutched against my chest. He yanked, trying to rip them from my grasp.

Instinct took over. I shoved my foot between us and kicked, catching him square between the legs.

He let out a sharp, strangled noise of pain.

“Shit,” he spat, rage twisting his face, but I didn’t wait for him to recover.

I wrenched myself free, pushed off the wall, and dove, my body burning with effort as I swam through the dark, churning water. The cold bit at my skin, every stroke a war against my weakening limbs.

It wasn’t until the water around me began to bloom in cloudy, crimson ribbons that I realized what had happened.

I was bleeding.

I felt it now, a warmth spilling from the wound, mingling with the cold water. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and nausea twisted my gut. I needed air. I needed to stop the bleeding. I needed to get away from Devrin .

I swam harder.

If there was one advantage, it was that the spreading blood would cloud the water, making it harder for him to see me if he was still following. Clutching the nozzle and tube, I shoved them down the front of my wetsuit, tucking them tight against my chest. It was uncomfortable, heavy, but at least they were hidden.

As I swam, I scoured the floor of the tunnel with my blurred, stinging eyes. I snatched up the first two items my fingers brushed against, whatever they were, and pushed onward. My vision dimmed, and I fought to stay conscious.

Then I hit something.

A body.

I braced for another attack, heart hammering, but when I looked up, relief flooded through me so suddenly I nearly sobbed.

Briar.

Her face appeared through the haze, eyes wide in horror as she took in the sight of me, blood clouding the water, my trembling, unsteady limbs. Her hand reached out, catching my shoulder.

I tried to warn her, to shake my head, but Devrin’s hands closed around my waist from behind, yanking me back with bruising force. Briar dove forward, trying to fight off the manic who’d attacked me.

I forced myself not to scream. To save my breath. My fingers tightened around the two decoy objects in my grip, and with what little fight I had left, I shoved them hard into Devrin’s chest, forcing him to take them.

He hesitated, just for a moment, then ripped them from my grasp and kicked off, swimming away toward the tunnels we’d come from.

Briar moved after him instantly, ready to give chase, but I grabbed her arm, my weak grip barely enough to hold her.

I shook my head and her gaze snapped to mine.

She took one look at the state I was in, the blood still spilling from my head, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me with her. Good. Because my limbs were starting to give up, heavy and useless.

She dragged me through the water, fast and relentless, until we broke into a larger chamber, one with a pocket of air near the ceiling.

The moment we broke the surface, I gasped, choking on the stale, precious air as Briar hauled me into the tiny air pocket of the chamber. The cold, red tinted water lapped at my chin, and my arms felt like dead weight, but her hold was strong, steady, anchoring me in place. Her chest heaved against mine, breath ragged and fast as though she’d been the one bleeding out.

“Hollis, come here,” she rasped, voice breaking on my name. “You scared the absolute shit out of me.”

Her arms clutched me tighter, one hand at the back of my head, careful of the wound, the other around my waist, holding me flush against her like if she let go, I’d slip away forever. Her chin rested against my damp hair as we both fought to catch our breath.

For the first time in what felt like hours, warmth sparked somewhere inside me.

“Are you okay?”

“Alive, yes” I managed weakly, a ghost of a smile on my lips, “Okay? Debatable.”

I felt her laugh, a soft, strangled sound, more relief than humor.

“What the fuck just happened?” she asked, her voice a mixture of fear and fury .

I leaned my head against her shoulder, the exhaustion catching up to me. “Devrin,” I whispered. “He attacked me… tried to take the pieces I’d found.”

I felt her entire body tense, the water shifting around us. Her breathing hitched and when she pulled back, I could see the storm in her eyes, the rage, the terror of almost losing me.

Without a word, Briar reached down to her wetsuit, fingers fumbling at the seam of her pant leg. She yanked at the fabric, tearing a long, jagged strip free. Her hands were shaking. She cradled my head in her palm and carefully began wrapping the makeshift bandage around the gash at the back of my head.

It stung, and I winced, but the pressure steadied the spinning world.

“This’ll keep pressure on it,” she murmured, eyes flicking to mine. “It’s still gonna bleed, but it’ll buy us time. We need to get you out of here.”

I nodded, my throat thick with emotion. I opened my mouth to thank her, to crack some weak joke, to say something, but she was already moving.

Her hand cupped my cheek, fingers sliding into my hair, and before I could breathe another word, she kissed me.

It wasn’t careful, wasn’t sweet or hesitant. It was desperate and fierce, trembling and alive. A collision of mouths. Water, blood and terror still clinging to us both. It was the kind of kiss you gave someone when you thought you might never see them again.

And because I needed this and I needed her, I kissed her back.

My hands fisted into the front of her wetsuit, pulling her closer as life bloomed inside me again, a warmth that spread through my aching body, chasing away the numbness. The world narrowed to the heat of her lips, the sharp, uneven way she breathed against my mouth, the taste of water and copper and fear. The feel of her breasts pressed against mine.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against mine, both of us panting, and for a moment, nothing else existed.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I swear to God, Hollis.”

I smiled, small and pained but real. “Not part of the plan, I promise.”

She let out a shaking breath, then brushed a damp lock of hair from my face. “We’ve got to move. Can you swim?”

“Yeah, but we should be fast.” I answered. “Do you have any pieces?”

“These,” she said, pulling them from the neckline of her wetsuit. I glanced at them. She had two pieces right, and one decoy. I took that one from her hands and let it fall.

“Damnit, I wasn’t sure. I helped Pa put one together once when I was a kid, but it’s been a while.” She cursed under her breath.

“I know what they look like. I can help,” I replied, still hiding Zaffir’s secret assistance from the watching cameras.

“Let’s do it. We’ll find what we need and get back to our guys. Together.”

“I like the sound of that,” I teased.

Her smile cracked through the tension, a crooked, aching thing, and she pressed one more quick, fierce kiss to my temple before wrapping an arm securely around me and diving again.