Reactive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 1)

by Becky Moynihan

  My final destination.

  The water poured over a sheer rock face and pounded onto the smooth flat stones jutting out of the river bed. From there, it navigated the many twists and turns through the forest. I skipped from stone to stone until my back was pressed against the smooth rock behind the waterfall. After a lengthy inhale, my lungs now filled to capacity, I stepped underneath the deluge.

  My scalp and shoulders stung; icy needles pelted my skin from above. I squeezed my eyes shut and allowed my head to tip back. And there I froze, my body braced against the water’s weight, unwavering. Unbent. The water roared and raged, but I remained unfazed. At peace—finally. Time slowed. Every second became a minute.

  Under the water I could control my fate.

  It pushed me down, but I always ascended. It held me, until I could no longer hold my breath. It stole my hearing, thoughts, and sight . . . and I embraced the simplicity. Water was strong, yet it allowed me to be strong, too.

  But then a thought sunk into my mind and my peace shattered into a million jagged pieces. Heat scalded my eyes and I let the tears flow, each one lost in the torrential downpour. A heavy weight constricted my chest, building in volume until the pressure became unbearable. I leaned my head out of the waterfall and drew in air, then expelled it in a tortured scream. The sound bounced off the high rock wall, echoing down the river.

  I stood, shaking, my lungs and heart depleted—empty. As the thought sunk deeper, something happened. For the first time ever, the water felt lonely. And for the first time ever, I realized . . .

  I didn’t want to be alone.

  My whole body ached with exhaustion. I had stayed under the water too long, searching for peace—even a thin thread. But it was gone. The dinner hour came and went, and now the moon guided my water-logged boots through the barracks doorway. If anyone was around to witness my half-drowned appearance, I didn’t notice.

  I was too consumed with my thoughts. Thoughts that plagued every waking and sleeping moment. Thoughts of him. My head was so full it was a wonder my neck could carry it.

  Halting in front of my dorm room, the first thing I noticed was the faint-yellow light beneath the door. Someone was in there. Almost too numb to care, I instinctually sought out my hidden dagger, but I wore the wrong training gear. I was weaponless. I softly snorted at my idiocy. I was a weapon.

  Pushing on the heavy wood, I slid the door open silently. There, sitting on my bed, was Bren. My throat closed. I stepped over the threshold anyway. Our eyes assessed each other. Friend or foe? I wished I knew. He rose, the frame’s metal springs creaking. Ever-so-carefully, he crossed the distance separating us, as if approaching a jittery animal.

  Maybe he was. I wasn’t breathing when he reached around me and nudged the door closed. Silence fell, and I heard drops of water from my hair and clothing plink against cement. He bent his head toward mine and this time, I didn’t pull away.

  I watched him watching me. What he saw must have been a pathetic sight: a tired, defeated, and lonely girl. My mask was in shambles. But I didn’t care anymore.

  His lips twitched as he bit the inside of his cheek. I saw the moment he came to a decision. His face relaxed but his eyes were lined with caution when he finally spoke, voice loud yet painstakingly soft in the quiet space. “You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready or don’t want to. I know you’ve been through a lot. And that’s why I’m here, little bird. I think you desperately need something and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

  His eyes asked for permission, but for what I didn’t know. Was he asking me to trust him? Panic crept up my ever-tightening throat. I can’t. I can’t. He shouldn’t even be in my room like this. If anyone found out, they would assume that we were . . . And yet, my feet remained bolted to the floor. My heart fluttered, stomach lurching as I forced myself to swallow and nod. Just once. But that’s all it took.

  He slowly blew out a breath, then leaned forward and erased the space between us. I’d been near him on many occasions, but this was different. I felt him in every nerve ending as his hand cradled the back of my head and pressed my cheek to his shoulder. His arm wrapped around my lower back and pulled my body to him. And there he held me, his warmth seeping through my frigid skin, kindling my insides to a slow burn.

  When was the last time I’d been this close to someone? I couldn’t remember. My worry over the rules vanished.

  I could feel him breathing in my damp hair. The sensation curled my toes. He rested his chin on the crown of my head, and my brain shut off as my senses sparked to life. All I could do was feel. I was swimming in electric fire and I submerged myself in it. My shoulders drooped and a sigh shuddered through my limbs. Bren’s arm tightened around me and mine responded in kind, twining behind his broad back without my brain’s permission.

  But my brain wasn’t operating in this moment.

  His scent drifted to me and I sought out the source. Before I knew it, my nose was brushing along the bare skin of his neck, deeply inhaling. My head fogged with intoxicating scents of pine, leather, and rich earth. I could stay here forever, my nose buried in his neck.

  His soft chuckle startled me out of my stupor, and my eyes flared wide.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I blinked. “Yeah,” I muttered and withdrew.

  The moment our bodies separated, a wall of cold replaced the warmth he had infused inside my blood. I crossed my arms over my chest as a shiver shook my shoulders.

  “Lune, look at me.” My eyes wanted to look anywhere but at him, this new feeling of closeness creating an odd shyness. I would have laughed at the ridiculous notion if it weren’t so painfully uncomfortable. When my gaze waveringly met his, Bren continued. “The thing is, I need something too. I need you to stop running away from me.”

  He held up a hand as I opened my mouth in protest. “I don’t care if you have to beat me up when words just aren’t good enough. Whatever you need to do to get it out of your system. But”—his fingers trailed down my temple and tucked wayward hair behind my ear—“please don’t shut me out. I can’t bear it.”

  I wrenched my gaze away and fixated on my lamp’s bare bulb. I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t. The instinct was woven into every strand of aware and unaware moment. Run. Keep your secrets safe. Don’t let anyone close. Follow the rules. Those instincts kept me alive. But when he looked at me like that, and talked to me that way . . . I wavered.

  Stars above, I was doomed.

  Splat.

  Ugh. Another muddy puddle. I crept into the grass, settling the lumpy bag more comfortably on my shoulder. The rain had dissipated but the ground was a sludge pit. For the next few days, cleaning my boots was going to be a pain in the butt. With the storm came lower temperatures. I shivered in a black sweater while wrestling the hood over my head.

  As I made the unsanctioned trek to the village, my inner critic listed my many shortcomings: thief, rule-breaker, failure, weakling. I hadn’t been able to collect as many supplies this week. I clenched my teeth. I wouldn’t fail Asher. I wouldn’t. The familiar outline of village buildings saved me from my thoughts and I hunkered down behind my usual tree, ready to wait out the night watchmen.

  Boots clomped along the saturated road, loud and lazy like always. Just as a guard was about to round the bend, a figure darted from the shadows and flitted from building to building. A door rasped open farther down the row of houses, faint light spilling out from the home. Then the running figure stumbled over an object. Something metal.

  The silence exploded into a clanking racket.

  The guard whirled, fumbling for his flashlight. “Halt!”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I had to do something. If they were caught . . .

  “Hey!” I yelled. A volt dart zipped toward me and crackled against the tree’s trunk. Crap.

  And then a large, callused hand covered my mouth. My scream was muffled as an arm wrapped around my middle and lifted me off my feet. My assailant dragged me backward wh
ile I clawed and kicked. But it was as if they knew all my moves. The head-butt was dodged, the kneecaps well out of range, the groin protected. I assumed the person was male judging by the giant hands.

  Oh stars, don’t let it be Drake.

  My attacker pulled me behind another tree and pressed me tightly to his chest.

  My back. Someone was touching my back. Air sawed in and out of my nose, but I couldn’t get enough. The night wavered.

  “Shhh. It’s just me.” The voice was deep and soft. And Bren. A strange sensation moved in my stomach, like bird’s wings. His hand slid away and he slowly released me, only to breathe, “Run.”

  At the sound of footfalls clambering down the hill, I did. I flew past Bren and made for the nearest copse of trees. Lighter steps dogged mine and I knew they were his, not the pursuing guard’s. At least he was chasing us and not the villager who broke curfew. I plunged into the woods and immediately tripped over an exposed tree root. Instead of falling, my body was scooped up and set to rights again.

  Bren grabbed my hand and took the lead. I was too shocked to protest as he weaved back and forth, traveling through the dense undergrowth like it wasn’t even there. Like it was broad daylight. How can he even see? And then the trees thinned, and the river was before us. I plowed into Bren’s back. Huffing and puffing came from the woods behind us. Sporadic beams of light.

  “Keep going,” I whisper-yelled, and shoved at his shoulders. Nothing. His muscles were wound so tight, he felt like a marble statue. I whipped around him to face his front. “Bren, can you hear me? You must do this. You have to trust me.”

  He slowly blinked. Good enough. I grabbed his hands and yanked. He jerked forward. One step. Two. I jumped into the river, the icy water rising past my boots, soaking my pants. I kept tugging and Bren sank in beside me. A great shudder racked his frame, vibrating up my arms, but he followed me. I waded to the bridge, our salvation, and ducked beneath its underbelly. There, I let go of him and grasped a support beam. Tucking my legs up, I wrapped them around the beam and hung suspended above the water.

  Bren followed suit, clinging to a beam next to mine. I held my breath as clunky footsteps neared the water. They stopped. The guard cursed. Cursed again. Then took off across the bridge. I waited until all I could hear was the gentle rush of the river. My breath whooshed out of me. “Well, that was fun.” My eyes met Bren’s. He was staring at me, and I couldn’t read his expression.

  Air hissed through my teeth when I realized I had dropped the bag of food when Bren grabbed me. I quietly lowered myself into the water and made for shore.

  “Where are you going?” Bren had found his voice. It sounded rusty.

  He followed me out of the river, so I whispered, “I didn’t complete my task. Go back to the barracks, Bren. You can’t be out past curfew.”

  “And you can?”

  I didn’t answer. I honestly didn’t know what my trainer status afforded me. Under the circumstances, probably nothing.

  He wrapped a hand around my bicep, bringing us to a halt. “I know what you’re doing. I saw you steal the food.”

  Everything in me stilled. Even my thoughts.

  “Why, Lune? Why would you risk doing this? If your father found out—”

  I exploded into action, whipping my hidden knife free. The point pricked his jugular. “Are you going to tell him?”

  He was calm as he said, “No.” The word shifted his neck muscles and my blade drew a drop of his blood. I winced but didn’t budge.

  “Prove it.”

  He paused. Then, “I’ll share something with you. A secret for a secret.”

  I eased up on the blade a notch, scrutinizing his eyes. “I’m listening.”

  He looked upward and blew out a breath, seemingly unfazed that a knife was at his throat. Stupid idiot. “There’s only one reason why I was allowed into this city, and that’s because I’m different. And so are you.”

  “What is she, then?” the man had asked the day I’d been kidnapped. My heartbeat picked up pace.

  Bren’s gaze returned to mine. “In fact, you are far more important than I am. That’s why I’ll be delivering your stolen goods and completing your task.”

  My grip tightened on the knife as confusion washed over me. I couldn’t help but ask, “Important? Different? How so?”

  His expression grew wary before he glanced away. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”

  I narrowed my eyes and waited a beat. When he remained tight-lipped, I dropped the subject. For now. I had a mission to complete. “I didn’t steal the food, by the way. It was going to be thrown out. I call that resourceful.”

  His lips quirked to the side. “Or opportunistic.”

  With a sigh, I pocketed my knife and traipsed into the woods. “Come on. I want to make sure you do this right. There’s no way I’m letting you get caught by the guards.” He’d probably tell them I put him up to the task.

  “What, no witty comeback?” he asked, following close behind.

  “I’m not a night owl. Keep pestering me though. I’ll poke your eyes out.”

  My threat didn’t faze him because he began to pester me with more questions. “So, what’s the big secret of the Supreme Elite’s daughter? Why sneak around at night, and why contend in three dangerous Trials? Don’t you already have a secure future?”

  I snorted and spun to face him. “How about a compromise?” I said, falsely sweet. “I’ll tell you why I signed up for the Trials if you tell me why you did. And I can tell if you’re lying,” I warned, gesturing back and forth between our eyes. “Deal?”

  He studied my face for several seconds. His expression gave nothing away as he crooked a finger, asking me to come closer. Oxygen stalled in my lungs as I leaned forward, as his breath fanned across my ear. And then he whispered, “No deal.”

  The very next morning, Asher tore my doubts and fears wide open with one simple sentence. “Lune, your father wants to see you and said you’d know where to meet him.”

  The city’s walls crushed my bones to oblivion. Bile raced up my esophagus and my lips pinched tight against the onslaught. I would not be sick. Renold didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

  “You okay?” Asher brushed a hand along my arm. I gulped down air and relaxed my pensive look before meeting his blue eyes. They brimmed with concern.

  “I think I made a mistake last night.” I forced down a painful swallow. Bren must have told Renold about my illegal activities. I knew I couldn’t trust him. I knew it! “But don’t worry, Ash. I’ll figure it out.”

  I retreated as he gaped, panic etched clearly across his face. But I had no more words of comfort. They would only be lies.

  With one glance, the guard let me into the big house at the staff’s east entrance. He knew the drill. I practically tiptoed down the dimly lit stairwell, one flight, then two. Still, my boot’s tread echoed off cement and I cringed.

  I landed on the sub-basement level, the dark and mysterious belly of the beast. Few ventured down here; and some, like me, had no choice. A bare bulb above my head flickered wanly, casting an eerie shadow replica of myself against the dank stone wall. One foot lifted, then the other, forcing me toward my destination.

  Room after discarded room passed by, each containing dusty relics of the past. Unused and wasted instead of put to good use. I silently came to a standstill at the end of the long hall, facing a heavy wooden door. It was closed. But I knew the sole occupant inside was aware of my presence. There was a tension in the air, so thick I wanted to expel it from my lungs. When my vision wavered, I dragged in a breath of the putrid stench and threw my shoulders back.

  As my trembling fingers clenched the cold, hard doorknob, I began the silent chant—a habit birthed from ten years of abuse. You cannot break me. You cannot break me. You cannot break me.

  The door swung inward.

  He sat in the center of the room, his formal attire at odds with the simple chair and dingy floor. The room’s single bulb shone on his brigh
t hair, bleaching it white. His eyes, however, were sunk in shadow. But I knew they tracked my every flinch and fidget. With practiced movements, I slid into the room and softly shut myself inside.

  After a beat, he broke the tension. “Lune, how good of you to come on such short notice. I know you must be busier than ever with your new duties.” His solicitous words held false warmth. My spine stiffened. He was pandering, lulling me into a sense of camaraderie. I kept my lips sealed and his ticked up knowingly.

  “How is the training going? Is Mr. Bearon making progress?”

  “Yes, sir. He is a fast learner, extremely skilled, and has already graduated to a tier five training level in all three Trials.”

  “Really.” His brows arched minutely, giving me a glimpse of pale blue eyes. They shrewdly studied me. “And what do you think of him personally?”

  My heart leapt into my throat. Did he know that Bren had orchestrated my kidnapping all those years ago? But I would never ask. “Uh, I think he’s a hard worker, observant, and he abides by the city’s rules. He will be a force to reckon with in the Trials and make a good citizen.” Stupid idiot. I shouldn’t have mentioned the rules. Did he know? Was that why I was here?

  He rose, and the room shrunk. I was a little girl, helpless and at his mercy. But he never showed me mercy. Never. I locked every limb in my attempt to stay grounded instead of tearing the door open and running from the room in blind terror. With one step, he was in my personal space. My unblinking gaze fixed on a speck of dust marring his otherwise pristine suit.

  His hands entwined behind his back as he began to circle me. The blood rushing in my ears almost drowned out his next words. “This is good news. But . . . I think you’re leaving something out.” When he stopped directly behind me, blood leached from my face. In the next instant, my neck spasmed as the sharp bite of a needle penetrated skin, nerves, and muscle. Throat convulsing, I choked on a gasp.

  Renold gently laid my braid over a shoulder and continued, seemingly oblivious to my shaking body. “What do I value more than anything?”