Elijah had dropped the body from a small cliff, certain the fall could lead to a broken neck. They had packed in silence—neither of them had slept. Now, as Sloan hoisted herself into the vehicle, eyeing the ground where Young’s body had lifelessly fallen, she knew the truth of this path she was set on. No matter how many realizations she experienced, no matter how many truths she was told—she now knew the only truth that mattered. That no matter how aware she was of the Academy’s alleged true nature, she couldn’t deny her own nature. The Academy had already won—they had changed her, molded her into a fighter—into a killer—into a person whose instincts were what they had designed them to be.
I am what they made me to be. . .
She glanced to Elijah; he felt her stare and offered her a meek smile. She didn’t reciprocate; instead she let her gaze fall back onto the road ahead. He might have been thankful that she had saved his life—twice—but he would never be able to look at her the same way. She had killed in front of him. She couldn’t help but think of how Jared would react to witnessing her action. She wasn’t precious, the way Elijah constantly made her out to be—she was dangerous, the way the Academy made her to be. Jared had known that long ago. Sloan could finally feel the underlying bond that she shared with Jared—a dangerous instinct . . . a darkness.
No matter how much it bothered her—it wasn’t something she could change.
Sloan turned her sore hands into fists. The Academy had changed her basic nature and she could never turn back. Romani had, in a sense, won . . . Sloan had one thought, though, that made all of this bearable. The Academy had shaped her into a weapon—that was undeniable . . .
. . . But they no longer dictated whom she was aimed at.
With a scan of their chips, they drove on to the Academy base. They hadn’t been shot yet, which meant either no one knew about Young, or they just hadn’t linked it to them yet. Elijah stopped the vehicle, leaping out and crossing the garage to Donny’s office. She grabbed her bag and made her way to the pod, not caring to wait for him. She took a seat and was surprised to see Elijah lunge through the closing gap of the doors.
“Happy faces, Sloan.” He needed her to pretend, to lie, to act like she had spent the past three days falling in love. She needed people to stop telling her what to do.
“This is my happy face,” she snarled.
The pod doors hummed open and Sloan got to her feet, stepping into Elijah’s living quarters. She was startled to find General Stone standing in the living area, looking out their window. He turned to her slowly and crossed the room, stopping a foot before her.
“General,” Elijah greeted him with a salute. Sloan didn’t bother—she was done playing games.
He looked her up and down—he understood. “You two, my office, twenty minutes.” He clapped Elijah on the shoulder affectionately, but kept his eyes on Sloan. I’m sorry, he mouthed. She shook her head at him, warning him off the topic. She left them standing there, moving into the bedroom to get changed into uniform.
She stripped her shirt off as Elijah walked in. He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom and reluctantly, she followed him. He turned the shower taps on and leaned into her, their voices muffled by the pounding water. He brought his mouth to her cheek—but it wasn’t the same as before. Every move he had ever made around her had been fueled by lust, with a constant want for her. Not since Young. Not since he had seen her true self.
“We are being watched—listened to. We only speak in here now,” he whispered, gesturing to the shower area.
She nodded, intentionally expressing disinterest. He arched his brow at her. “What’s wrong with you?”
Really?
She stifled a scoff. “What’s wrong with me?” She raised her hand and grabbed his neck, pulling his face to her. They kissed. She navigated his mouth and held her body close to his, and he reciprocated . . . but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as the day on the road. She was right—he didn’t see her the same way anymore. She pushed him away, eyeing him with anger. “That’s what’s wrong with me.”
It took him a moment, but as his brow furrowed and his eyes softened, she saw him realize. “Look, Sloan—”
“Don’t bother,” she hissed, and for good measure, added, “It’s not like I loved you.”
She didn’t know why it bothered her so much—why being right bothered her. She had said it from the start; he had an obsession with her, an idea of saving her and keeping her precious. He didn’t love her for who she really was—and he could deny it all he wanted to, but the truth was in his eyes, it was in his kiss. She had saved his life and in doing just that, he had stopped seeing her as a delicate object of desire.
Good, she thought, turning and leaving him standing there.
Sloan pushed the doors to the training hall wide open, stepping inside, Elijah close on her heel. Although the room was fairly full, she immediately spotted 27—spotted Jared. She might still be a part of that table, but just like her long-forgotten parents in Fort Destiny, these people were no longer her family. She had no family.
She kept her eyes on Jared as she crossed the room, the new knowledge she had of his family and role in the Academy playing through her mind. And he watched her too. He narrowed his eyes on her and studied her carefully—as though he could see something had changed.
Her table slowly made their way across the room, deliberately getting in her path.
Sloan slowed to a stop, holding Jared’s gaze. Elijah stood confidently beside her, knowing it was best to let her take the lead.
“How was the excursion, whore?” Mika’s tight-voiced laugh cut through the group. Sloan, without hesitation, lashed out, backhanding the girl across the face. Mika shrieked and Will immediately took a step towards Sloan, ready to defend his partner.
She was ready—she was ready for anything. But Jared grabbed Will’s shoulder, pulling him back.
Jared took a step closer to her. His one arm was still in a sling, but his face had healed up quickly. He continued to study her. You can tell, can’t you—you can tell I’m somehow different?
He took another step towards her. “What happened?” he asked knowingly. She held on to his blue gaze and every fiber of her being wanted to close the gap between them. She wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to disclose everything to him.
Instead, she shook her head slowly. “Like you care.”
She brushed past him, but he grabbed her arm. She jerked it free. He couldn’t touch her—she couldn’t stand to have him touch her without breaking, without giving in and forgiving him. “Get away from me,” she ordered, throwing his words back at him.
She turned and pushed through the group, making her way to Stone’s office.
She threw Stone’s door open and coolly took a seat, not bothering with formalities. Formalities inferred respect—he didn’t respect her so why should she respect him? Stone watched her disregard protocol and she watched him watch her. He studied her thoughtfully, just as Jared had. He knew—she was certain of it. He knew, just like Jared had known, that she had finally become that which she had trained to be.
Stone gestured for Elijah to sit. “We can speak freely in here for now.”
But they didn’t, not right away. The three of them sat in silence. Sloan tapped her foot against the floor, restless. “Did you call us here for a reason?”
Stone tensed his jaw, leaning back in his chair. She was pushing it, but she didn’t care. Where had caring gotten her so far?
Stone took a deep breath. “Yes, I need to be briefed on what Elijah has told you.”
“He told me about you, what you are, who you lead,” she answered tightly, each word a jab. He nodded at her, studying her attentively.
“You’re on board then?”
For a moment—she expected him to laugh, or stare at her in shock. She expected him to say Elijah clearly had been deluded and that none of this was true. But he didn’t.
Sloan slumped back in her seat. “Didn’t give me much choice, did you?”
He inclined his head at her. “It’s too late to turn back, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” she sneered. He arched a brow at her, but what had he expected?
He drummed his fingers on the desk. “You should know we have a plan then, an intervention before Departing Ceremonies. Our primary aim will be to evacuate the children. We can discuss details of all that later, with the Others.”
Her anger couldn’t shield her from this shock. She had gone along with it, she had listened to Elijah’s story, but it hadn’t actually registered in her mind as wholly true until this exact moment. He was their leader. He had a plan. He had kept greater secrets from her than she had ever imagined.
Just another betrayal.
Elijah leaned forward. “Sir, we had an issue this weekend. I . . . I killed a guard.” He tripped over his words with uncertainty and she felt disgust. Killing had to be spoken about the same way it was done—with conviction. Sloan watched Stone take in Elijah’s lie, but his face betrayed nothing. She didn’t need him to try to take the heat off of her—she didn’t need any favors from him.
“Don’t lie for me,” Sloan said, remaining relaxed in her seat. Elijah shot her a shocked glance, but she was narrowed in on Stone. “I killed the guard.”
“I know,” Stone said, leaning forward and reading her face. “Or at least I suspected—Kevin Young.”
“What?” Sloan asked.
“His name was Kevin.”
Kevin. Kevin.
“He had been on patrol,” Stone continued. “I’m sorry this happened.”
Sloan snorted at his apology and it seemed to be the last straw. “Daniels, wait outside for a moment.” Elijah immediately stood and eyed her over before slowly exiting.
Stone leaned across his desk. “Do we have a problem, Lieutenant?”
She glared at him. “Why would we?” she pushed sarcastically.
“Because it seems like you have something you want to say to me,” he pressed.
“That’s rich, sir, truly,” she laughed. Hadn’t he had something to say to her all these years?
“Watch it, Radcliffe.”
Sloan stood. “Or what?” she demanded.
He stood, mirroring her. “I don’t need to explain my motives to you, Lieutenant.”
“If you’re asking me to commit treason then yes—you do,” she snapped back.
“I’m not asking—I am ordering you to.”
Sloan froze under his words. Despite her unbridled rage, despite her overt indifference, she still hesitated at the sound of an order.
He relaxed, taking his seat again. “I know you’ve been in the dark, Sloan. I know you’re hurting—and I am sorry—but I’m finally in a position to offer you some light.”
She took her seat, taking a deep breath, but she remained silent. With a quick knock on the door, Elijah popped his head in. Stone waved him back in and he returned to his seat beside Sloan.
“You two should know that, while you were gone, Jared was promoted to major—in fact, he will be the first student to ever receive that rank.”
Sloan felt an odd sensation in her chest—pride. She was proud of Jared . . . but she didn’t want to feel that. She narrowed her gaze on Stone and concentrated on her anger instead, willing it to consume her.
“Regardless, we can discuss this all further at a later date—I have a meeting to get to,” Stone announced, standing.
Sloan and Elijah stood slowly, turning to the door. “Sloan, wait a moment,” the general spoke. Elijah saluted Stone and once again left her in the room.
She watched Stone regard her slowly. Finally, he spoke. “Are you alright?”
She shook her head—she didn’t want him to care; she didn’t want him to be nice to her.
He carried on, seemingly insistent on doing just that. “I understand I have disappointed you,” he said. “I wish things could have been different. I wish you didn’t have to kill.”
She jerked her head up at that. “How dare you say that to me? You wish I didn’t have to kill? Was there ever a situation where that wouldn’t have happened? You already got your wish—I am what you made me. Aren’t you proud?”
“Every day.”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded at her slowly. “I am proud of you every single day.” His words were sincere, his eyes somber. His genuineness was an affront—she didn’t want to feel anything for this man anymore. The problem was, she still did. Sloan turned from him, ready to leave
“Sloan—one more thing.” She didn’t bother turning around; she remained staring at the door. Noting her refusal to look at him, he finally spoke. “Everyone needs to believe you’re in love with Elijah . . . Stay away from Jared.”
Sloan’s hands curled into fists as her familiar anger washed over her.
“You do not tell me what to do anymore.”
Everywhere Sloan went she seemed to move with an aura of danger. Trainers and professors kept their distance; students backed away from her. She could move down the hall and a path would develop in the rush of cadets. Despite her antisocial demeanor, Elijah wouldn’t leave her side.
Of course, Jared watched her constantly; he sat behind her in class, he trained near her in the hall, he would appear outside her other classes, or go for runs at the same time she went. The only time she didn’t see him was during meals, because John, the kitchen head, still had food sent up to her living quarters and as such, she still had to train his son privately.
“Duck!” Sloan barked, swinging at Jack’s head. The boy, a natural, lurched under her arm. He was small for an eleven-year-old, but he was eager and adept. He was also very green. So, as soon as he bolted upright, she gave him a light tap over the head. Hitting him hard wasn’t necessary. Sloan knew the other trainers hit hard enough. The boy rubbed his temple, taking a step back. “You’re a good fighter, Lieutenant.”
She tilted his chin up to check she hadn’t hurt him. Sure, it was training, but she didn’t want to hurt him—he would find enough pain in this place without her. She smiled, reaching for their water bottles. “So are you, kid.” She tossed a bottle to Jack and took a seat down on the mat. Jack mirrored her.
“So, why does your dad have you train so much?”
The boy shrugged, swigging his water back thirstily. “To be prepared.” He stared at her with an atypical gaze, intensity in his young eyes, as though he were trying to tell her he knew there was something to be prepared for. Sloan shook the notion away—did it matter who else knew the truth? She thought she had been miserable when secrets had been kept from her, but now she knew it all and her life felt truly awful most days.
His childish features lit up curiously. “Why do you eat in your room?”
“Your dad told you that, huh?” Sloan sighed, leaning back on the mat. She decided on the truth—or at least some version of it. “It’s so I can be alone.”
“Oh. You have no friends.”
She laughed pathetically at his forwardness, shrugging in agreement. She sat back up slowly.
“Have you tried asking for forgiveness?”
Sloan arched her brow at the kid’s insightful question, half impressed at his perception, half offended that he assumed it was her fault she had no one left. She thought of Tandy, of Kenny, of Kevin Young—the people she needed forgiveness from . . . She couldn’t ask it of them. And she couldn’t explain that to an eleven-year-old. Before she could answer, the hall doors swung open loudly.
Jared walked through and, finding her quickly in the near empty room, began to walk over to her. She jumped to her feet. “Jack, get to class.” The boy leaped up, eyeing up Jared as he approached.
“Go on,” she insisted, patting him on the shoulder. Hesitantly he walked off, sidestepping Jared.
She immediately noticed his elbow was no longer in a sling—he must have had it taken off that morning. His blue eyes bored into her as he approached. She still fought the urge to tell him everything—knowing she should, understanding she couldn’t. He stopped a foot away from her.
Despite his close proximity since her return from the woods—they hadn’t spoken.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Congratulations on the promotion.”
He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Thanks.”
They stood in silence, eyeing one another up. Assessing how much they had changed since losing everything they had once shared. His eyes flicked over her body before locking in on her gaze.
“You’re different.” He nodded.
She shrugged, not knowing how to respond.
“You’re . . . colder, angrier.”
“You think?” she laughed, narrowing her gaze as he continued to stare. “Take a good look, Jare—you helped make me this way.”
He arched a brow at her, a defensive expression crossing his face. “Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t tell me how to be. You lied to me, betrayed me, kept every possible secret from me, ignored all my pleas, and in the end—when I rushed to you—you turned me away.”
“How was I supposed to react when—”
“When what? When I declared my unwavering love for you, when I threw myself at your side despite the fact that you betrayed me, despite that you asked the Order for the one thing I begged you not to.”
He threw his hands up. “I didn’t come here to argue, Sloan!”
“Then what did you come for?”
“This is driving me insane! Seeing Daniels follow you around like a lapdog, knowing you’re with him every day and every night—I need to know, I need to know that you aren’t . . . that you haven’t—”
She realized what he needed to know. He wanted to know that her body was still his. And it was . . . but she didn’t need to tell him that.
“That’s none of your business,” she growled, glaring up at him.
“You belonged to me!”
“Yes. Yes, I did! And you threw it away. You destroyed us and don’t you ever pretend otherwise. You’re so miserable? Great—so am I! Don’t think for one second that this is anyone’s fault but your own. You ruined me,” she said, a whisper and a shout rolled into one. “You ruined us!” She was in his face now; she could see her anger reflected in his eyes.
His face came into focus—his tensed jaw, his helplessly pursed lips, his fiery cobalt eyes boring into her. She pushed past him, storming out of the hall into the corridor. A pool of students still idled in the corridor, turning to see her as she slammed the door hard behind her. In an instant, it was flying open, nearly knocking her forward as Jared appeared.
“Sloan, I can’t do this anymore!”
Jared never made public scenes—and now, he was doing just that. His loud voice echoed through the hallway, falling on the ears of everyone desperate to see this transpire.
“How do you think I feel?” she yelled back, pushing hard against his chest.
In an instant, his strong hands were holding her, gruffly pushing her back. “Tell me then!”
“Tell you what? Nothing can fix this so just back off!” she yelled.
“Don’t you understand? I can’t. If I could I would—do you think I want to feel this way? Do you think I want to still love you every waking minute of every day?”
With every word he roughly shook her, jolting her body back and forth in his shaking hands. She wriggled in his arms, too sad, too angry to be here anymore. But he didn’t let her go.
“Tell me the truth—tell me it’s still just me,” he pleaded, shaking her gruffly.
“Get off of her!” Elijah’s voice surprised her. He grabbed Jared, freeing Sloan from his tight grip.
Jared seemed to return to reality—his sad eyes falling on her. “I’m sorry.” He pushed past Elijah, keeping his stare trained on her. “I’m so sorry . . .” he whispered, and then, before his own tears could break, he ran off.
“What the hell was that about?” Elijah asked, following her into the pod. Sloan slumped down on the sofa, running a hand through her hair. Elijah sat opposite her, waiting for some explanation.
“Jared’s coming undone . . .” She shrugged.
Elijah stared at her thoughtfully. “You two really can’t live without one another.”
Sloan stared back at him—I tried to tell you just that a million times. “We’re managing,” she lied.
He ran a hand over his face and then let it fall onto her knee. “We never talked about everything that happened when we got back here.”
About how you realized you didn’t want me anymore?
She sat in silence, unsure what to say. He moved to sit beside her. “Sloan, I just . . . I don’t know—I’ve never seen something like that and I guess, I had never seen how similar you were to Jared before that moment. It took me a while to come to terms with it.”
She stared at his hand on her thigh. She thought of Jared’s concern about the nature of her relationship with Elijah, of Elijah’s tumultuous feelings, of the state of her life.
He turned to her. “You know I still want you. My feelings on that never changed.”
Sloan stifled a laugh at the timing of his declaration . . . as soon as Jared became paranoid she was sleeping with Elijah, Elijah reaffirmed his feelings for her.
She laid her hand on his . . .
. . . And slowly removed him from her. “Mine did.”