Winter

by Marissa Meyer

  Scarlet sighed, sounding a little disappointed and a little resigned, but not surprised. “And I believe you’re not as crazy as you want everyone to think you are.”

  Winter’s gaze flitted toward Scarlet, surprised, but Scarlet didn’t return it. She stepped forward and placed her palm on one of the heavy doors. “So, do we knock?”

  “I do not think they would hear us.” Another round of howls echoed through the cavern. Winter swiped her fingers across the screen, and the text changed.

  SECURITY CLEARANCE IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED

  She pressed the pads of her fingers onto the screen and it brightened, welcoming her. The doors began to open, creaking on ancient hinges. When Winter turned back, Scarlet was staring at her, aghast.

  “You do realize you just alerted the queen to where you are, right?”

  Winter shrugged. “By the time she finds us, either we will have an army to protect us, or we will have already become meat and marrow and bone.”

  She drifted through the doors and instantly froze.

  Scarlet had been right. There were about a hundred men in the 117th Regiment of Levana’s army, though men was a general term for what they’d become. Soldiers felt inadequate too. Winter had been hearing stories of her stepmother’s army for years, but they were far more beastly than she had ever imagined, with malformed bodies, fur down the sides of their faces, and snarled lips curved around enormous teeth.

  This storeroom, which had begun life as housing for the first colonists, was equipped to hold many more than a hundred people. The ceiling reached three stories high and was rough with divots and stalactites where air bubbles had formed and lava had dripped eons ago. Though the cavern was ancient and impenetrable, someone long ago had had the foresight to reinforce it with interspersed stone columns. Countless alcoves and more corridors stretched in every direction, leading to additional barracks or training grounds.

  Around the exterior were dingy lockers and open crates, many of which had been left wide-open and neglected. Benches and exercise equipment filled the remaining space: freestanding punching bags, chin-up bars, weights. Many of them had been shoved aside to make room for the main entertainment in the room’s center.

  The howls dissolved into cheering and whooping again. Canine teeth flashed. Most of them were in some state of undress—missing shirts, bare feet, a stunning amount of hair in places that Winter wasn’t certain were natural or not.

  A shudder danced over her skin. Scarlet’s words rang back to her: They will do what they’re told, and that will be to eat us.

  Scarlet was right. This had been a mistake. She was not brilliant. She was losing her mind.

  The doors slammed shut, making her jump. One man jerked around to face them. His gaze fell on Winter, skipped to Scarlet, then returned. First curious, then—inevitably—ravenous.

  A sly smile curled one side of his mouth.

  “Well, well,” he mused. “Feeding time already?”

  Fifty-Seven

  The man who had spoken grabbed the nearest soldier by the neck and tossed him toward the center of the circle. Shouts of surprise and anger rolled through the gathered men as a few toppled beneath their comrade’s weight. Within seconds there was a furor of flying fists and snapping jaws. One man slashed at the one who had noticed them, sharpened fingernails drawing lines of blood across his chest. A second later, he was also picked up and hurled into the turmoil.

  “Manners,” someone yelled, loud enough that his voice shook through the walls, and Winter had a quick and searing vision of the dome of lava rock crumbling on top of them. It would start with a quaking of the walls, then a few dribbles of dust and pebbles, until a crack drove its way from one end of the cavern to the other, opening wide and—

  “There are ladies in our presence,” said the mutant who had first seen them. His nose crinkled at the word ladies.

  The attention of a hundred hybrid soldiers landed on Winter and Scarlet. As eyebrows rose and thorny gazes raked over them, the men seemed to forget their brawl. They started to spread out. Lithe, muscular bodies creeping between the mess of equipment with agonizing patience. Noses twitching. Tongues tapping at sharp teeth.

  Hair prickled at the back of Winter’s neck and she found herself rooted to the floor, shocked by the sudden, breathable silence.

  Once the crowd had dispersed, she could see that their focus had been on a fight between two of the soldiers, both of whom were bleeding and swollen and grinning, as intrigued as the rest. It was impossible to tell which of them had been winning the fight prior to the interruption.

  There was an abundance of scars and faded bruises on all of the men, suggesting that such brawls were a common occurrence. A way to pass the time while waiting to be sent to Earth and take part in Levana’s war.

  Fear pulsed through Winter. What if she had been wrong?

  “Hello, pretty ladies,” said one of the soldiers, rubbing his whiskered jaw. “Are you lost?”

  Winter shrank closer to Scarlet, but Scarlet pulled away, stepping forward to meet them. Scarlet was the brave one, the resilient one, proving it as she tilted back her head in mock defiance.

  “Which one of you is in charge?” said Scarlet, fisting her hands on her hips. “We want to speak with your alpha.”

  A dull cackle spread through them.

  “Which one?” said the first mutant. “Eleven packs, eleven alphas.”

  “The strongest one,” said Scarlet, piercing him with a glower as fierce as any Winter had ever seen. “If you’re not sure which one that is, we’ll wait while you fight it out.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take your pick, pretty lady?” one asked as he prowled behind them, cutting off their exit—not that Winter had any hope of running. She could tell they were trying to intimidate her and Scarlet, and she could feel to her bones how well it was working. “I’m sure any of us would be happy to satisfy whatever needs you might have.”

  Scarlet glared at him from the corner of her eye. “I already have an alpha mate to satisfy my needs, and he could slaughter any one of you.”

  The man barked and a rough chuckle rumbled through the rest of them.

  The first soldier stepped closer to Scarlet and his expression was intrigued again. “She’s telling the truth,” he said, silencing the laughter. “His scent is all over her. One of us.” His eyes narrowed. “Or … a special operative?”

  “Alpha Ze’ev Kesley,” said Scarlet. “Heard of him?”

  A beat. A smirk. “No.”

  Scarlet clicked her tongue. “Too bad. I can already tell he’s both twice the man and twice the wolf of any of you. He could teach you a thing or two.”

  The man laughed again, amused. “I didn’t realize they were letting our pack brothers take mates on Earth. More reason to anticipate our deployments.”

  Winter pressed her sweating palms against her sides, grateful that Scarlet held their attention. If she’d been forced to speak, her mouth would have spouted incoherent mutterings and they would have laughed at her one moment and sunk their teeth into her the next. Jaws clamping around her limbs. Teeth tearing her muscles from the bones.

  “We’re not here to discuss my love life, or yours,” said Scarlet. “You seem to be the most chatty. Do you nominate yourself as the leader here?”

  He tilted his head in a manner that reminded Winter of Ryu, how he would sometimes cock his ears when he heard the gamekeeper arriving with a meal. “Alpha Strom, at your service.” He dipped into a mocking bow. Though he wasn’t larger than the others, he moved with an unnatural grace. Like Wolf. Like Ryu. “And at the service of the pretty thing, back there. I suggest you speak fast, pretty lady. I can hear my pack’s stomachs growling.”

  One of the soldiers ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

  Scarlet turned and gave Winter a look.

  Shivering from head to toe, Winter reached for Scarlet, using her shoulder for balance.

  The soldiers laughed.

  “Winter,”
Scarlet hissed.

  “I’m frightened, Scarlet.”

  Scarlet’s expression turned to stone. “Perhaps you’d like to go outside and compose yourself and we can come back later,” she said, speaking through clenched teeth.

  Winter shuddered at Scarlet’s anger, though she knew Scarlet had a right to it. Coming here had been her idea. If they both died here, it would be her fault.

  But she wouldn’t allow it. These were men, she reminded herself. Men who deserved life and happiness as much as anyone.

  Holding firm to that thought, she forced herself away from Scarlet and was grateful when the dizziness receded.

  “I am Winter Hayle-Blackburn, Princess of Luna,” she said, and could tell even in her own ears how faintly her voice carried. Not at all like Scarlet’s. “I need your help.”

  Eyes flashed, delighted.

  “In return, I wish to help you.”

  Amusement. Hunger. Less curiosity than she would have hoped.

  She gulped.

  “Queen Levana, my stepmother, has treated you with cruelty and unfairness. She has taken you from your families and acted as though you are nothing to her but scientific experiments. She has locked you away in these caves, for no other purpose than to be sent to Earth and fight in her war. And what will you be given for your service?” They all waited with their hard and sparkling eyes, watching Winter like she was their afternoon snack, still cooking on a spit. It was not unlike the looks she’d received from countless men in Levana’s court.

  “Nothing,” she said, shoving her fear into the bottom of her stomach. “If you survive your battles, you’ll come back here and be enslaved in these caverns until she needs you again. You will not be allowed to return to your families. You will not rejoin our society and live what lives you may once have dreamed of living, back before you were … you were…”

  “Monsters?” suggested one of the men, grinning around the word.

  “I do not believe you are monsters. I believe you have been given very few choices, and you are dealing with the consequences as well as you can.”

  A snort came from Alpha Strom. “Who knew we would be receiving such counsel from the princess herself today? Tell me, pretty highness … does this therapy session come with refreshments?”

  “Your friend, perhaps?” said another. “She smells delicious.”

  Scarlet crossed her arms, fingers digging into her elbows.

  Winter squared her shoulders. “We came here to give you another choice. The people of Luna are planning a rebellion. In two days we will be marching into the central dome of Artemisia. We plan to overwhelm the queen and her court, to overthrow her and put an end to her tyranny. I ask that you join us. Fight on our behalf and help us end the rule that took you from your lives and turned you into soldiers. Ensure that you will never become prisoners, or experiments, or … animals created for Levana’s amusement, ever again.”

  A silence settled over them, as if they were waiting to make sure she was finished. Winter searched for some indication they were even listening.

  She felt like a lamb in their den.

  “She has pretty words.”

  Winter turned toward the voice. It was one of the men who had been involved in the fight. Fresh blood had dried at the corner of his lip.

  He tipped his head when he saw that he had her attention, his eyelids dipping suggestively. “Not quite as pretty as her face.”

  “Except for these scars.”

  She jumped and spun around. She hadn’t heard this soldier step so close and now he was hovering over her. He dragged a sharp-tipped nail down her cheek. “Where’d these come from, pretty lady?”

  She didn’t—couldn’t—answer.

  An arm wrapped around Winter’s shoulders, pulling her back. “Stop it,” said Scarlet, tucking Winter behind her, though it was useless. They were surrounded. “Were you listening to her? You can call yourselves soldiers or wolf packs or whatever you want, but the truth is, you’re nothing but slaves. Winter is offering you freedom. She’s giving you a choice, which is more than Levana has ever offered. Will you help us or not?”

  “You’ll be slaughtered,” someone whispered against Winter’s ear.

  She gasped and turned again, locking her back against Scarlet’s. The soldiers crept closer. Predators toying with their catch, luxuriating in the anticipation of the meal.

  “A bunch of pathetic civilians are going to stand up against the queen?” another said. “They don’t stand a chance.”

  And another. “Don’t you know who the queen will call on to hold them back, if there are too many to manipulate?”

  “Us,” spoke a third. “Her army.”

  “You mean her lapdogs?” said Scarlet, and though her tone was mocking, her back was pressing against Winter just as forcefully. “Her pets?”

  The soldiers’ faces twitched.

  “If you side with us,” said Winter, “we can win. We will win.”

  “What will happen to us if we side with you and you lose?” said Alpha Strom.

  One of them brushed a finger down Winter’s throat. Her heart skipped.

  “With you beside us,” she said, her voice wavering, “we will not lose.” Her eyes began to water from fear. “You can stop now. You’ve frightened us enough. I know you are not the vicious creatures you’re pretending to be—that you’ve been trained and tormented and built to be. You are men. You are citizens of Luna. If you help me, if you fight for me … I can help you get your lives back. You can’t tell me you don’t want that!”

  She could feel their breath on her now. She could see the colored flecks in their eyes. Smell the sweat and blood on their skin. One of the men was sucking on a knuckle as if he couldn’t wait to taste her flesh.

  They were a noose growing tighter.

  Pulse hiccuping, Winter raised her hand to her throat where the soldier had touched her. She felt a prickly rope there. Tightening. Squeezing. She squeaked and tried to wrap her fingers around it, to form a barrier between the rope and her throat, but it was already too tight.

  “Spoiled little princess,” one of the soldiers hissed, stooping down so she could feel his breath on her cheek. Winter shivered and knew her gaze was watery and pleading. “We don’t fight for princesses. We play with them.”

  Alpha Strom smirked. “Ready to play?”

  Fifty-Eight

  Scarlet pushed Winter, hard, sending her sprawling to the floor with a cry. Through a veil of hair she watched Scarlet elbow one of the mutants in his nose. She reached for the gun beneath her hoodie, but the soldiers were already grabbing her, pinning her arms to the side. The gun fell uselessly to the ground.

  A dozen enormous hands pulled Winter back to her feet. She hung limp in their hold, her legs too weak to carry her. She was shaking from head to foot, and the men were flickering in her vision. Engineered soldiers one moment and a pack of wild wolves the next. Prowling and baring their enormous fangs.

  Scarlet screamed something. A battle cry. She was struggling like a caged tigress, hair flying, teeth snapping, while Winter hung, weak and brittle and trying to block out the vision before it overwhelmed her. Her head was heavy as moon rock and spinning as fast as an asteroid in orbit. Burdened with the brutal knowledge that this was real. They were going to die. They were going to be devoured.

  The tears came on fast and overflowed quickly, leaking down her cheeks. “Why are you being so cruel? Ryu would not act like this. He would be ashamed of you.”

  “Hold it together, Winter,” Scarlet growled.

  The world hesitated. Dissolved into blackness before re-forming again. Winter knew she would collapse if they let her go, but she couldn’t find grounding in her own strength.

  “Wait—I have an idea!” she said brightly, lifting her head. “Let us play a different game. Like when Jacin and I would play house. This one can be our pet.” Tipping forward, she tried to put her palm on the nearest soldier’s nose, but he jerked away from her, surprised.

&n
bsp; She blinked at him. Trying to remember who he was. What he was. “No? Would you rather play fetch?”

  His face turned from baffled to angry in half a second. He sneered, his teeth taking up half his face.

  “What’s wrong with her?” someone spat.

  “Or I’ll be the pet, if you prefer it.” She swayed against those holding her. “Sticks and bones, sticks and stones. We’ll play for hours, but I’ll never tire and I’ll always come back, I’ll always come back…” Her voice shattered. “Because Ryu always, always came back. Sticks and bones. Sticks and bones…”

  “Lunar sickness,” someone murmured. Winter sought him, finding a warm-skinned soldier who could have been handsome before he’d been made so very ugly. He looked at her with the same hunger as any of them, but there also might have been sympathy.

  Winter couldn’t remember what she’d said that was insane. What had they been talking about? Leaving? Weren’t they leaving? She wanted to leave. Or perhaps they’d been making dinner plans, hosting a cocktail party.

  “That’s right,” said Scarlet. She was panting. “She refuses to manipulate anyone or to use her glamour, even when it would be highly beneficial. Unlike the people you serve, obviously.”

  “It will not affect how she tastes,” someone yelled.

  Winter started to giggle. They had all become animals now. Even Scarlet had turned wolfish, with pointed ears and a fluffy tail and flaming red fur. She turned her own muzzle up to the cavernous ceiling and sang, “And the Earth is full tonight, tonight, and the wolves all howl, aa-ooooooooooh…”

  One of the hands—paws?—on her forearm loosened.

  She howled again.

  “A princess of Artemisia,” Alpha Strom muttered, “who does not use her gift? By choice?”

  “She thinks it’s wrong to control people,” said Scarlet, “and she doesn’t want to end up like the queen. You can see the toll it’s taking on her.”

  Winter’s voice cracked and she stopped howling. When she slumped again, the hands released her, letting her crash to her knees. She gasped in pain and looked around. Scarlet was once again Scarlet, and the men were once again soldiers. She blinked, and was grateful when the hallucination didn’t return.