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The Gender End

Page 16

by Bella Forrest


  Morgan trailed off, expelling a shuddering breath. “I had no idea what to do, especially after I found out that’s what Mother meant by helping us—using those children to refine us. Strip away the bad so only the good could remain. I never asked her to do that! I didn’t find out until after she died. And I was afraid to act. Desmond could have turned me over to Elena at any moment, made me into another of my sister’s pawns again. She held that over me, too. As long as I was her good little operative and didn’t say a word, she kept me out of my sister’s hands. Until you guys came along and blew her cover with the rest of the Liberators. But you know that part.”

  She met our gazes, her eyes flashing. “So yeah. That’s my story.”

  I looked around the room, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions. I, for one, felt nauseated by her tale. I had never once considered how Elena might have been when she was younger. Truthfully, I couldn’t even wrap my head around the idea that she had ever been young. She seemed too sinister to ever have any qualities of childhood ascribed to her, even in her appearance.

  “Thank you for telling your story,” said Amber. “I know how hard that can be.”

  Vox straightened in his seat and opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp glance from Amber cut him short. He squinted at her a moment, and then, very pointedly, smiled at Amber.

  “It was very brave,” he said, an encouraging smile on his face, and Amber’s expression went from irritated to considering.

  Morgan shrugged and pushed her shock of dyed black bangs from her face. “Thanks, but it’s nothing. I’m not the same person I was, and I didn’t inherit the ‘blindly follow a psychopath’ gene, so… thanks, I guess. I mean, you deserved to know, in some ways. Hiding the truth won’t make it any less real. It’s a thing that will fester if kept inside for too long.” She looked around, her voice catching, and then looked back down, and I realized the poor girl had never had anyone to share her story with. She was beyond brave for doing it here and now for the first time—she was fearless. “Never mind. Nothing I told you changes the fact that Elena is out there with something up her sleeve, and we need to stop her.”

  “I hate to be the guy who asks, but how do we know you don’t just want the throne for yourself?” asked Drew, leaning forward. “My country is on the brink of death because of your sister’s quest for power or control or whatever the hell she did all this for, and I, for one, don’t want to institute a regime change and replace one dictator with another!”

  Morgan flushed bright red, her brows drawing together. She opened her mouth to say something, but I wasn’t able to keep my mouth shut. “That’s not fair, Drew. Based on what Morgan is telling us, she wasn’t even there when all of this stuff started going down. We can’t hold her accountable for the actions of the others.”

  “For all we know she could’ve been planted here by her sister! You people cannot seriously be taking her word for what happened! If this is how you’ve been running things this entire time, you’re fools!”

  Drew made to stand up, and suddenly Owen was on his feet, slamming his fist into the table, the promise of a fiery death in his eyes. “How dare you,” he bellowed. “This woman killed her own twin sister to help us! She blew her cover to help Violet track down Desmond. She has every right to be here, in this room, with us, especially after what she suffered at the hands of those supposed to take care of her. Just look at the date stamp on the letter! Do the math! You can’t tell me her sister managed to hack into her mother’s computer ten years ago to write that letter using her mother’s electronic seal, just so that she could have this opportunity ten years later!”

  Morgan, still frozen from when I had cut off whatever she was going to say, flushed a deep pink and seemed to withdraw into herself for a moment. It would’ve been sweet, if we weren’t in the middle of an argument about her. Now it was just embarrassing, for all of us, and I was going to make sure Drew saw that.

  Drew’s mouth dropped, and then slowly closed, disappearing behind his bushy beard. He looked over to Mags, clearly searching for support. “Mags, I—”

  “Shut up and sit down,” she ordered. “I want to know more about this possible coup.”

  Morgan looked around the room for a second, having regained her composure after Owen’s defense of her. “Before we get to that, may I say something?”

  “Of course,” Henrik said. “We may still be making our minds up about you, but that doesn’t mean we are rude enough to not give you a chance to defend yourself.” He gave Drew a pointed look, and then smiled kindly at Morgan. “Go ahead, dear.”

  Morgan hesitated, looking lost in thought for a moment, and then looked at Drew. “I don’t want to be queen,” she said coldly. “Never have. I am the sixth daughter. That means that, if I had been a normal girl, I would have been free to do whatever I wanted. I don’t want that kind of responsibility! I’m not worthy of it. People deserve someone brave to lead them. Not a coward.”

  Everyone in the room sat still under the force of her haunted words.

  “You’re not a coward,” Violet said softly, filling the uncertain silence with the warm strength and conviction in her voice. “You were a scared little girl. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Morgan scoffed and shook her head, but didn’t reply. It was clear she didn’t believe Violet, but she would… with time. At least I hoped she would.

  Morgan pushed off the wall and moved to take out the tiny disk with her mother’s letter in it. Clipping it back onto the chain around her neck, she moved back to her chair to sit down, biting her lip slightly when Owen slid it out for her before she sat. Drew stood for another few seconds, and then sat abruptly.

  “I don’t want to rule,” Morgan calmly repeated. “Honestly, the only thing I want from this is to get Sierra away from Elena. She’s just a little girl, and has no place in all this ugliness.”

  “So you’d walk away from the power?” asked Logan. “Just like that?”

  Morgan’s face didn’t change as she met his gaze. “Just like that,” she agreed.

  “Look, I hate to say this, Morgan, but you have to consider the possibility of taking the throne, at least for a short time,” said Henrik. “With Patrus so destabilized, we need a stable ally to help us with food and supplies for the winter while we get things together. So… who do you know who could help us? Is there anyone who stands out to you?”

  Morgan shifted and let her gaze tilt upward, clearly thinking about it. “Alyssa Dawes,” she said after a few moments. “She doesn’t hold an office anymore, but she did serve as a special advisor to my mother and grandmother.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “She was a political activist,” Violet said, answering for Morgan. “She caused a lot of social changes, especially regarding Patrian husbands and treating them the same as Matrian husbands.”

  “If anyone could turn the citizens against Elena, it would be her,” said Morgan. “Then you wouldn’t even need a coup. The Matrians would take her down on their own.”

  “And lose a lot of people trying,” said Henrik.

  “Good,” retorted Drew. “Maybe we should even up the score a little.”

  Violet bit back a growl, her hands clenched, and I could tell she wanted to say something scathing to Drew, probably mixed with a few insults. I was feeling a bit of the same anger myself, to be honest, but now wasn’t the time to be getting emotional.

  “That’s not how we do things here,” said Ms. Dale, and I was relieved that she’d been feeling the same way. “No innocents hurt, if we can avoid it. But it seems like this might be a better solution than trying to go after Elena in her palace, so we’re going to consider it.”

  Henrik nodded in approval, and then Violet was standing. “Viggo and I should be the ones to go to Matrus,” she said, resting her palms on the table and leaning forward. “We can give Alyssa the information she needs, and that’ll leave everyone here free to start working on the other stuff.”

  There was a long pause, a
nd then Ms. Dale looked at me. “You sure about this?” she asked, and I looked up at Violet for a second.

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “It’s smart, relies on only two agents. Violet and I are great at improvising when things go horribly awry. But best of all, with this solution, you three”—I indicated the Patrian rebel leaders, focusing on Drew, who needed the most convincing—“could work on the provisional government and get it off the ground faster. The people are looking for leaders to trust, and this is the time to show yourselves to them.”

  “Not to mention, I have leverage on Elena. Leverage I can use to our advantage.” Violet looked around the room, her face and body exuding confidence. “If we are torn between these two things, then let Viggo and I handle Elena, while the rest of you take care of this place.”

  “This is dangerous,” Amber said with a grin. “Which is why I think I should be the one to pilot you over there.”

  “Hold your horses, young lady,” Henrik said. “I’m really not sure I like the idea of only a two-man team going into Matrus. We wouldn’t be able to back you up if you got in trouble.”

  “A larger team could be more dangerous,” I said. “More chance of getting caught. Just think it over. But we’re happy to volunteer.”

  Henrik sighed and looked around the room. “Any objections?” he asked.

  Nobody raised their hand, and I felt a curious mixture of disappointment and excitement. We were so close to doing something about Elena that I could practically taste it.

  I was glad Violet had suggested it, but I also knew the odds. I didn’t even have to ask Thomas. Chances were if the two of us went into Matrus, we would probably die there. Violet knew this, and still she wanted to go—she was willing to make that sacrifice for the good of everyone, and I was so proud that I could call her mine.

  “No objections noted,” Henrik announced as the room filled with silence at his question. “Then let’s all get some rack time, all right?”

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  17

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  VIOLET

  I slowed to a stop as we rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs leading away from the conference room, letting my arm stretch out as Viggo continued to pull away, my fingers still laced through his. He felt me stop and came to a halt, turning slowly, his expression inquisitive. I smiled, melting as I looked into the angular planes of his face, trying to make my love for him shine through my eyes.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  I had to laugh—he sounded so baffled and confused, and I couldn’t blame him. I was acting weird, but… this was the time. It was right now, and it was going to be perfect.

  “Because I love you,” I said, and he smiled, although the confusion on his face was still there. I’d told him that enough times, I supposed, that it had stuck. I took a step closer to him, holding up our interlocked hands between us. “And I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. Well, since The Outlands, anyway. I… I want to marry you, Viggo. Now. I can’t wait anymore. I am so hopelessly in love with you that it leaves me breathless and shaky, and I feel sick thinking about us not being married. It’s time, Viggo. Will you marry me? Today?”

  As I spoke, Viggo’s face broke out into a smile, and then the smile merged into a thoughtful expression, his lips moving up and down with the gentle rocking of a body of water. When I was done with my proposal, he exhaled slowly.

  “Violet, what brought this on?” he asked gently. He didn’t say it with alarm, just a genuine curiosity, which was good, because as excited as I was, I was also a little bit nervous.

  “It was something Belinda said on the heloship,” I said softly, licking my lips. “And I realized she was right. Viggo, I don’t want to die having never been married to you.”

  “Die? Violet—”

  “Please don’t tell me that we’re not going to die. We’re going into Matrus. Soon. That’s where Elena lives, Viggo. We’d have to be idiots to assume this is anything short of a suicide mission. I am not going in there prepared to die—I am going to fight until my last breath to get us both out alive. But we know the risks, and you know as well as I do that if that’s the price we have to pay, then we’ll pay it. Just… give me this, please.”

  “Violet… I want you to look at me.” He released my fingers as I spoke, reaching up to touch my cheek and place his other hand on my hip, gently coaxing me toward him. “We’re not going to die in Matrus, and this is not a suicide mission.”

  “I want to believe that. But Viggo, war is—”

  “Chaotic?” he cut in with a teasing grin, and I smiled, nodding my head. His expression grew thoughtful again, and he sighed. “Violet, we don’t have to rush this. There’s no reason to do it right this minute. We still don’t even have a fully formed plan yet—we need more intel on the palace, Alyssa Dawes, where Sierra might be. Even with Thomas finally in their system after the heloship raid, it could take days.”

  “Which are days that I could spend as your wife, not as your fiancée,” I replied. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’ve thought about this a lot. I don’t want to wait anymore. I told myself I’d find the right moment, and it’s now. Not to mention—everyone is here! All of our friends and family, under one roof. I mean, who knows when that will ever happen again, or how long we’ll have that for?”

  Viggo’s face fell, and he nodded. “That’s a good point,” he said, and from the pained look on his face I realized he was probably thinking about all the people we had lost so far. Those deaths were still fresh, still a hole inside me every time I stopped to look back, and I knew they tore at Viggo every day. Still, he met my gaze and offered me a small smile. “So have I completely shattered my masculine image yet by acting like a nervous bride?”

  “You’re not nervous,” I pointed out. “You’re a traditionalist. But these are untraditional times, Viggo, and I’m ready. So unless you’re not…”

  He gave me a droll look, and then dipped his head down and pressed his lips to mine. “You know I am,” he breathed. “But… ask me again.”

  “Dork,” I teased. “So… will you?”

  “Marry you?” he questioned.

  I pressed my lips together to keep from screaming in frustration and looked up at him, bringing my hands up slowly to his neck and pretending to choke him—just enough to let him know he was driving me crazy.

  He chuckled and took my hands in his, removing them from his neck. “Calm down—before I even say yes, which we both know I’m going to, I still want to know who you are planning to have preside over it. I mean… Maxen is really the only officiate who could be legally recognized at this point.”

  I shuddered, even though I knew Viggo was joking. Taking a moment to consider his question, I finally just shrugged. “I-I don’t know. And I don’t care. It could be Ms. Dale for all I care. I mean, really, all we need are a few witnesses and an exchange of vows and rings. We got the rings, we can wing the vows—”

  “Wing the vows!” he sputtered, and I fought back a laugh at the alarm on his face. “Violet, the vows are the most important part. What are you planning on saying… ‘I promise to share my cookies with you’?”

  “Okay, A: I’m not sharing my cookies with you, and B: do you really think I’d come up with something that lame? C’mon, give me a little credit here. I’d at least be generous and say something about massaging your shoulders once a year.”

  The glitter in his deep green eyes was resplendent with humor, a bemused smile twisting the beautiful lines of his lips. “A year?” he asked. I shrugged, and he shook his head at me. “So romantic.”

  I gave him the look—an unamused one—and he chuckled, “I’m sorry, love.”

  “Forgiven. Now are you done stalling? Because I would really like to get married to you.”

  He snorted and then nodded. “I would really like to get married to you too, Violet.”

  “Is that a yes?” I needed to hear it, needed to hear the words coming
from his mouth.

  “It’s a yes—I will marry you today.”

  I let out a whoop and broke off from him, my mind moving rapidly as I began ticking off the things we needed to do.

  “Okay, I’ll go get a dress, I’ll tap Amber to find a location so everyone can be there—we’ll probably have to get married in the hospital, so Alejandro, Quinn, Solomon, and Jay can be there—I hope he wakes up, but even so… You’ll need to find something nice to wear, too… Oh! And flowers, and some food!”

  “Violet, slow down,” Viggo called quietly. “We still need to find someone to marry us!”

  An idea flicked through my mind, and I grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” I announced. “You just tell all the guys what’s going on, and I’ve got the girls, okay? Let’s meet up in two hours!”

  I began moving back up the stairs, excitement coursing through my veins as I realized that in a few short hours, I would be married to Viggo.

  There was so much to do before he and I could be… Oh crap—we’d never discussed the names! Oh well. I supposed we could just keep our own (or trade). I certainly wasn’t giving up my name… and Viggo wouldn’t either. Either way, we’d figure it out, I thought with a grin.

 

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