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

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Reactive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 1) Page 31

by Becky Moynihan


  And he had. Oh stars, he had.

  But he wasn’t done. I didn’t know if I could survive this.

  “Truth of the matter is, I need you, Lune. You are the future. Things are changing, and we need to change with it. Those who don’t adapt will get left behind, and I’m like you: I won’t sit on my hands and let life pass me by. But I’m needed here while you aren’t. You can better serve this city from the outside.” His icicle eyes penetrated mine, forcing his words into my brain. From the outside. The outside. Outside. His soft grin was of the devil. “That’s right. You’re leaving. I need you on a secret mission. In doing so, you will protect the ones you love. And if you don’t . . .”

  He let the sentence hang, his expression commanding me to respond. I dragged in air. “And if I don’t?”

  His thumb stroked his chin as he watched me closely. “I heard about your little friend. Iris, is it?” My heart beat out of my chest, breath hitching despite my best efforts to control the sound. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Ah, I’ve struck a nerve. Well, rumor has it her guardians plan to disown her should she fail her Trials training. They say she’s weak and not worth the expense. But I also hear she looks like you, and that intrigues me. Makes me consider adopting her.”

  My breaths were coming too fast. I was giving myself away. I was giving her away. The thought of her under his sadistic hands . . .

  Black spotted my vision.

  “Tell you what,” he went on as if he hadn’t just torn up my insides. “Complete this mission and I’ll make sure Iris finds a nice new home. If not . . .”

  There was no “if not.” My spine snapped straight as an arrow. “What’s the mission, sir?”

  His smile was cunning, victorious. “Two days ago, I let someone out of the city gates. They have a mission of their own, but I’m beginning to question their loyalty. I need you to hunt him down, spy on him, and make sure he completes his mission. If he deviates from it, I want you to kill him. Understood?”

  Why did it feel like someone was digging a knee into my chest? Maybe because I knew, without a trace of doubt, who I would be hunting. But I had to ask, to be absolutely certain. “Who—who am I hunting, sir?”

  He destroyed my heart with two words.

  “Brendan Bearon.”

  After that, the conversation was a fog. I had my mission and my ultimatum. Iris or Bren? I didn’t know if I could save both. I was a puppet, tangled up in knotted strings. I was a pawn, controlled by those more powerful. The game was only beginning; a game I still didn’t know the rules to.

  Ryker led me to my room with instructions that I wasn’t allowed to speak with anyone. Renold’s orders.

  I donned my heaviest gear, fur-lined coat and boots, and packed personal items I would need—gloves, thick wool socks, hygiene kit. And as I reached for one more pair of heavy socks at the back of my drawer, my fingers bumped into something hard and smooth. It was leather, rectangle-shaped. It fit in the palm of my hand. Bren’s book. I gaped, disbelieving.

  How? Why?

  My fingers trembled as I cracked open the book’s cover, something I hadn’t been allowed to do in over a decade. The book was a message, that much was clear. With a faint rustle, I flipped through the pages, searching. There had to be a clue. Something. And then I found it.

  I stared, horrified.

  “No,” I whispered brokenly. It couldn’t be. I should have seen it. I was blind. How?

  Maybe I was interpreting the words wrong. It had been so long since I’d last read. But no. The words were short. Simple. Shocking.

  She is your sister.

  Iris.

  He had to mean Iris.

  Oh stars. And now I was leaving her all alone and she wouldn’t have a clue. There was no one to protect her from Renold. From Lars. A giant sob heaved out of my very soul. I curled forward until my forehead touched the cement floor. I shoved a palm over my mouth to muffle the noises coming from it, certain Ryker could still hear.

  Too much. Too much. This was all too much.

  I couldn’t leave.

  Someone impatiently cleared their throat beyond my bedroom door, making me jump. “Two minutes,” Ryker said. I hesitated for another few seconds, quickly scrubbing my face free of tears, then shoved the smuggled contraband deep into the bag I was packing.

  After a quick look-around, I left the room, intending to make my way to the supply room and kitchens next. Who knew how long this mission would last. But Ryker held up a large hiking pack. I paused before taking it, rifling through the contents to make sure everything I’d need was in there, namely a first-aid kit. How much did he know about this mission, anyway?

  He hefted another hiking pack that had been hidden behind him, and shoved his arms through the straps, snapping a buckle across his chest. I observed his movements, noting too late that he was dressed similarly to me. When had he changed? Alarms rang in my head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like? I’m going with you.” He bent, then straightened with several weapons in hand. My weapons. He thrust them at me and my hands mechanically took them. He slung a belt laden with knives around his hips. “Arm yourself. You’re going to need them.”

  A strangled squeak left my mouth. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m going on this mission with you.”

  His eyes slowly raised to mine. Ah crap. He stalked toward me, and with so many weapons in my hands, I didn’t know which one to ward him off with. I still hadn’t moved when he reached me, grabbed my arrow quiver and shoved the leather strap over my head. His words were a quiet growl as he said, “Are you brave enough to question Elite Tatum’s orders?”

  My eyes widened a fraction.

  He grunted, collecting his bow and remaining supplies. “I didn’t think so. Let’s go.”

  With long strides, he was down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time, and out of sight before I could protest. But what could I say? Renold had me firmly pinned beneath his thumb. If he wanted this rude and wildly unpredictable man on the mission, then I had no choice but to go along with it. Could things get any worse?

  But as I exited the house, I realized I’d spoken too soon.

  A wet fluffy ball splattered on my nose. Another on my cheek. Tilting my face to the sky, dread weighed me down. It was snowing. A soft white blanket already stretched across the empty front lawn. I followed Ryker’s fresh boot prints to the eastern gate, the only gate leading in and out of this prison camouflaged as a city. When I’d entered through those gates eleven years ago, my hands had been bound. I’d been kicking and screaming, terrified.

  Today, I did none of those things. My hands were unbound. My head was clear. But as the guards gave the command to open the gates, as the outside world came into sharp focus, I was more a prisoner now than I had been going in. Freedom pulled at me, urging me to take what was rightfully mine. And yet . . .

  My chin quivered.

  I have a sister.

  Renold was right. I cared too much. And that weakness was now iron shackles around my wrists and ankles.

  But maybe that weakness would get me through this mission. Keep me focused. Keep me from running away. And Bren. Stars above. How had he known?

  Determination spread through my limbs as the gates opened wide. In this moment, it was his image I saw clearly. He watched me, eyebrows raised, daring me to trust him. To take that first scary step into the unknown.

  He held out his hand.

  A challenge.

  I readjusted the pack on my shoulders and snorted. Game on, pretty boy. Game on.

  When the guards waved us through, I didn’t hesitate. My boots crunched in the untouched snow—one step, then two. And, just like that, I was on the outside for the first time in eleven long years.

  I held my breath.

  Took another step.

  And didn’t look back.

  Without God’s strength, this book never would have been published, so I thank Him for His unfailing grace!


  When I started this adventure, I had no idea how complex and tiring and thrilling the journey would be. How it takes a team to write a book. So I want to thank every single person who ever answered one of my countless writerly questions, who convinced me to follow my dreams, who encouraged me to keep going, to not give up. Because of you, this book transformed into a story I could be proud of, and one that I hope will have an impact on others as it does on me.

  I promised myself that I would keep this short, so I’ll end by personally thanking those who read Reactive in its earlier, rough stages and lent me priceless feedback! All of the hearts go to: Melissa, Tyffany, Jesikah, Daphne, Grace, Virginia, Hannah, Danielle, Shiza, Sarah, Marissa, Belle, Adelaide, Allisa, Baj, Chloe, Emily, Lyn, Stephanie, and Russell. You each had a hand in shaping this story and I will forever be grateful!

  Oh my stars, did you think I forgot you? I could never! To all of my readers, fight for the future that you want. The choice is yours.

  Thank you for reading!

  Becky Moynihan is the author of The Elite Trials trilogy as well as the co-author of the Genesis Crystal Saga with Tyffany Hackett. She lives in central North Carolina with her family.

  For more on Becky and her work, visit her website at www.beckymoynihan.com

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review on Amazon!

  Thank you!

 

 

 


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