Page 28 of Silver Elite

We’re jumping out of a plane tonight.

This is amazing.

Not that I’m enjoying myself. I’m really, really trying to remember that the Command is an enemy institution and I’m here to destroy it from the inside.

But…this is fucking amazing.

The night stretches out before me as I stand at the open door of the aircraft. The sound of the engines drowns out the rhythmic thudding of my pulse. Below us, the desert lies bathed in the silvery glow of the moon.

“This is fucking amazing,” Kaine shouts over the wind. His excitement matches my own.

My heart pounds in my chest, apprehension swirling inside me. With a deep breath, I steady myself against the rush of wind, the weight of my pack a reassuring presence against my back. We’re doing parachuting drills tonight. In other words, there’s no room for doubt and no space for hesitation.

“All right, listen up!” Ford says, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind. “Trust your equipment and you’ll all make it down safely. Your landing zone is clearly marked. Aim for it and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” groans a male recruit from Red Cell. His face is turning green.

Ford rolls his eyes. “This is easy compared with the jumps you might be asked to make. In a real mission, you won’t have the luxury of choosing where you land. You’ll be parachuting directly into the heart of the city, a parking lot, a rooftop. Your life depends on your ability to adapt.”

Lyddie’s hand tightens around mine. She’s been gripping it since we took off.

I see her chewing on her lip as she stares out into the darkness below. I can practically feel the waves of anxiety radiating from her.

“Hey,” I say, placing an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think.”

“What if something goes wrong?” She releases a very un-Lyddie-like expletive. “Fuck! Why did I think Silver Block would be a good idea?”

“It’s fine. You’ll do fine.”

“What if I miss the landing zone and end up stranded in the middle of nowhere?”

I squeeze her shoulder, my voice firm as I say, “It’s too late to change your mind now. You’re here. We all are. And the only way out is through. You can do this, Lyds. I believe in you.”

For a moment, she wavers, her gaze flickering between me and our impending leap of faith. Then she gives a determined nod and squares her shoulders.

“Let’s move!” Ford shouts, his hair tousled by the wind. He signals for us to line up. “Sutler, go.”

I blink and Kaine is out the door.

Gone.

“De Velde!”

At her signal, I watch with pride as Lyddie steps up to the edge. She takes a deep breath and jumps.

“Darlington!”

Adrenaline sizzles through my veins. Without second-guessing it, I launch myself into the abyss, hurtling through the darkness with reckless abandon.

I. Love. This.

For a fleeting moment, I’m suspended between sky and earth, a gust of air tearing at my clothing and the roar of the engines fading into the distance.

Then, with a sharp tug, my parachute deploys, snapping open with a deafening crack that echoes through the night. As I slowly drift downward, the desert unfurls beneath me like a patchwork quilt. Silence envelops me, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind and the steady thrum of my own heartbeat.

With each passing second, the ground draws nearer. I scan the terrain below, searching for the designated landing zone. There’s no margin for error.

Finally, my boots make contact with the soft sand, sending a plume of dust spiraling into the air. I stumble upon landing, fighting to regain my balance.

“I got you, cowgirl,” I hear, and then Kaine’s strong hand is there, steadying me.

“Thanks.”

His gaze fixates on my face, a grin on his lips.

“What?” I say.

“You should see your face right now. Orgasmic.”

“That was incredible,” I declare, and he slings an arm around me as we go to join the others.

—

We’re spending the night in the desert. The Command has a base out here, and as the adrenaline high from our nighttime parachuting begins to ebb, we hike to camp. Tents dot the sandy expanse, ocher-colored fabric fluttering gently in the night breeze. In the center of camp is an unlit firepit.

Ford, Hadley, and Cross are waiting for us when we walk up. My heart flips at the sight of our captain. Dressed in black, rifle slung over one shoulder, a day’s worth of beard growth covering his jaw. I prefer him clean-shaven, but I can’t deny I’m enjoying the feral look.

As it turns out, we’re not done for the night. Our superiors make us run an obstacle course that leaves us grimy. We crawl like snakes through the sand and race over the jagged contours of landscape until we’re exhausted. And then, when a recruit named Franks gripes about how we’re never going to put this to use in real life, Cross smiles at him and makes us run it again. Fuck you, Franks.

Later, a crackling bonfire casts dancing shadows on the faces of my fellows as we gather around it, eating and drinking under the stars. For one brief moment, the world falls away, and I feel a glimmer of peace beneath the endless sky.

Until Lyddie says, “I miss Betima,” and the spell is broken, replaced by a cruel dose of reality.

“You don’t believe him, then?” Lash cocks his head across the fire to where Roe sits with Anson and Kess. “That she was Aberrant?”

Lyddie hesitates. “I don’t know. He claims he saw her arms turn silver when Glin died, but I was standing right there. I didn’t see anything. Wren, did you?”

I shake my head.

“Kaine?”

“I was too busy tending to the spike in Cotter’s chest to pay attention to anyone else, Lyds.”

I wince at the reminder. My gaze travels in Roe’s direction, hardening to stone when he smiles at me. If you could call it a smile. His teeth are bared, but without humor. I haven’t spoken a word to him since he put a bullet in Betima’s head. Since I heard the General telling Cross that Roe did the world a great service.

Speaking of the General, his voice suddenly booms in the night.

I startle, thinking he’s somehow parachuted his way into camp, until I realize the voice is coming from someone’s source. They’re projecting General Redden’s latest broadcast to the wards.

“ …the only way to ensure the destructive philosophy we call Severnism is rooted out, ” Redden is saying. I detest that stern, chilling cadence with which he speaks. “ Ideas are like weeds. They emerge from the smallest cracks and thrive in neglect. And if they’re not controlled, they spread. They grow. They invade. It’s our role as loyal citizens of the Continent to pull out these weeds before they take hold. The Aberrant will not be allowed to poison our minds and seize our society— ”

“I’m going to take that shower now,” I say, getting to my feet.

Everyone else already took advantage of the outdoor showers to scrub the sand and dirt off, but I was waiting for the area to empty. With both Black and Red cells at camp tonight, the fewer eyes on my burns, the better.

The showers are on the outskirts of camp but in eyeshot of the fire. Just a row of simple stalls with wooden partitions between them, offering little privacy. I glance over to find them deserted, cementing my decision to go.

I reach the stalls at the exact moment Cross emerges from the other direction. He’d disappeared after the obstacle course, so I assumed he wasn’t staying at camp with us. But here he is.

With a cursory look to acknowledge my presence, Cross walks past me toward one of the stalls.

Then he starts to strip.

My mouth feels like it’s stuffed with a handful of the sand beneath my feet. I can’t do anything but stare as he removes his shirt. His boots. I almost choke on my tongue when he drops his pants.

His bare ass taunts me. Tanned and muscular. I saw a lot of male recruits showering less than an hour ago, even caught a full-frontal glimpse or two, but nothing gets my pulse racing faster than the sight of a naked Cross stepping into the shower.

The partition mercifully blocks his lower body from my view, sparing me from making an even bigger fool of myself. I’m already gawking at him like a complete imbecile.

He turns the water on and tips his head toward the spray, soaking his face and hair.

Holy hellfuck, that body.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that staring is rude?” He makes a tsking noise. “Where are your manners, Dove?”

I snap out of it to find his head turned in my direction, a smirk playing on his lips. And yet I still can’t look away. His dark hair is slicked back, emphasizing his striking features. Rivulets of water cascade down the broad expanse of his shoulders and hard lines of his chest. Each droplet seems to accentuate the contours of his body, glistening on his tanned skin.

He exudes a raw masculinity that leaves me mesmerized.

“Were you going to shower or just stand there and watch?”

I clench my teeth, steeling myself against his potent sex appeal. So what if he looks good naked? Since when do I lose control of my faculties around an attractive man?

Without a word, I enter the stall next to his and get undressed there. It’s a pointless stab at modesty—he’s so tall, he can see right into my stall. I could have chosen one that wasn’t right beside him, but I’m pretending to be unaffected.

I pull my shirt over my head and drape it over the wooden partition. When I take off my bra, I swear I hear his breath hitch, but a sidelong glance reveals his face is under the spray.

Despite my shaky hands, I manage to remove my pants. My underwear. I hang those up, too, and this time I know I didn’t imagine his sharp inhale.

I twist the faucet on and position myself under the hot spray. From the corner of my eye, I see Cross dragging both hands through his hair to push it away from his forehead. He glances at me again, then slides a bar of soap between his heavy pecs.

His lips quirk when I visibly swallow. The bastard is taunting me.

Fine. I can taunt, too. As I tip my head back to soak my hair, I turn to face him fully and enjoy the way his eyes flash with heat. But then that hot gaze rakes over my body, branding every exposed inch, and my heart gives my rib cage a beating under his scrutiny.

His shameless gaze drifts lower still. I know the moment his eyes land on my thigh, because they narrow, sharpen. He doesn’t ask about the burns.

Instead, he asks, “Are you fucking him?”

I wrinkle my brow. I was not expecting that. “Who?”

“Sutler. You spend a lot of time with him.”

“Aw, Captain, that’s sweet of you to notice.” I lather the soap between my hands, then run them over my collarbone and breasts.

Cross’s eyes downright sizzle.

“What if I was?” I can’t stop the note of challenge. “Is there a rule against fraternizing?”

“Even if there was, I assume you’d break it.” His voice is low. Raspy. But his face is unreadable. “So are you?”

I hide a smile. “No.”

His expression doesn’t change. He starts rinsing the soap off his body, and I can’t help but steal another furtive glance.

I commit every detail to memory: the curve of his jawline, the ridges of his abdomen, the tantalizing hint of his ass beneath the partition. He’s a work of fucking art, sculpted from marble, marked by ink, and bathed in moonlight.

“Are you sleeping with Ivy?” The question pops out before I can stop it.

Cross slides a knowing look my way. “No.”

“Roe says she’s basically the epitome of your type.” A foreign entity has seized control of my vocal cords. Shut the hell up, Wren.

“Roe is the last person who should be speaking on my behalf.”

Cross shuts off the water and steps out of the stall, grabbing a towel to dry himself with. I hear his husky laugh as he walks away, but I refuse to look over my shoulder. I’m breathing hard, shivering despite the warm water rushing over my body.

My heart is still pounding by the time I finish showering and return to the fire. We’re bunking outside tonight. I unfold and lay out a sleeping roll next to Lyddie. Kaine is on my other side.

He gives me a thoughtful look. “Shower games over already?”

I flick him off, but he remains unfazed.

“Didn’t realize the captain and I were in competition.”

“There’s no competition,” I grumble.

“Wait, what?” Lyddie sits upright, her gaze sliding between us. “Is something happening here? Oh my gosh. Are you guys—”

“No,” I interrupt, while Kaine grins at me.

Her forehead wrinkles. “Are you and the captain—”

“No.” My tone is even firmer this time.

From across the fire, I notice a pair of pale eyes affixed on me like a leech. Ivy. I don’t know if she heard any of that, but if Kaine saw me and Cross showering side by side, I’m sure Ivy noticed, too.

“I need some water,” I blurt out.

Breaking eye contact with Ivy, I head toward the mess tent to refill my canteen.

When I emerge, I find Xavier Ford standing outside the canvas flap, smoking a cigarette. He studies me as he takes a drag.

“What?” I mutter.

“It’s rare to see him like that.”

We both know who he’s talking about. “Like what?”

“Out of control.” Ford drops his cigarette on the ground and extinguishes it with his boot. “You know, Darlington, there are very few things I like about you.”

“Gee thanks. I’m touched.”

“But this one…I find this one entertaining.” Laughing, he strides off in the direction of the officers’ tents, while I return to the bonfire and my fellows.