by R. H. Scott
Sloan looked to Jared, but he turned away from her. How could he stand to hear Elijah say these things?
“There is nothing between us,” she said, sidestepping him. She grabbed Jared’s arm, pulling him round to face her. “Look at me!” she demanded, forcing his face towards her. “What is he talking about?”
She wanted him to tell her Elijah Daniels was a liar, to tell her that nothing had gone wrong in their pairing. He placed his large hands on hers as she cupped his face. She could see it in his eyes. She could see the truth before he said it.
“Something did go wrong . . .”
His words washed over her and she was certain she would fall. He quickly locked an arm around her waist, holding her steady. Sloan thought back to that night. “I told you . . . I told you that you were mine.” He had been so certain . . . but he knew something had gone wrong. Her chest tightened as she tried to hold herself together, and a creeping realization made its way into her mind.
“Are you saying . . .” She shook her head, trying to brave the truth that she had, just minutes ago, been dying to know. “No. You and I—we—are not a mistake,” she whispered.
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t possible. Tears burnt her eyes, blurring the image she had of Jared, but she could see, through her pain, the look on his face and that was all the answer she needed.
“So what? Were you matched to someone else?” she asked him, so quietly she wasn’t sure he had heard.
She remembered Jared’s words to Carson. He would burn this school to the ground if he weren’t paired to Sloan. Had he pulled strings, made a deal with Romani to get a different life than the one Nuptia had organized? How many people knew the truth that she had been too dumb to see—that she wasn’t truly his?
The word mistake didn’t seem big enough to hold the weight of its own implication. If she wasn’t meant to be Jared’s, it was more than a mistake. It was something that stole her breath away; something that filled her mouth with the metallic taste of loss and helplessness.
It was heartbreak.
He loosened his hold on her. “No,” he answered.
“Then what?” she demanded.
“I wasn’t matched to someone else.”
She was confused—if he was meant to be hers then what could have been wrong? “But, then . . .”
Elijah spoke, shuffling in her periphery. “Sloan . . . you were matched to both of us. To Jared and to me.”
She glared at him as he stood there, shoulders tensed up, uncomfortable with his own admission. Where were his cocky taunts now? Where was his attitude and bothersome persistence?
It was one thing to imagine a world where Jared was promised to someone else, someone who was his true soul mate. It hurt, but it was conceivable. But there was no world where she was meant for anyone but him.
She needed more space than this massive room had to offer. This room—where she had been promised to Jared. This room—where her reality was now being shattered. She stumbled away from them, dizzy. Jared reached for her, a look of fear painted across his beautiful face.
“There is no way you should have compatibility with both of us . . . it never happens . . . but you were a 98 percent match to us both and you got me because we wrote preferences.”
Sloan was actually shocked that writing a preference had served a purpose. How long had he known and kept this from her?
She almost choked on her words. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I had a choice? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jared took a deep breath. “They asked me if I wanted you to know you had a choice to make.”
He had lied. He had omitted. He had betrayed her. He took a step towards her. “I did it because I love you . . . I couldn’t risk losing you,” he explained desperately.
She understood that but it didn’t change the fact that he had ultimately made the decision for her. What had he done to ensure this secret remained kept from her? Who knew the truth and had been using it against him ever since? Stone? West? Romani? Who else allowed this to happen?
“How was not telling me your decision?”
“The marshal did it as a favor . . .” Jared’s voice trailed off.
Sloan thought of the other night. Of the fight they had been forced into by the Order for those strangers. Those people who had viewed her as property, as some object.
“At what cost, Jared?” she yelled.
Her words cut into him, his pain reflected in his eyes. “I’m sor—” he began but she cut him off.
“How could you have been so blind? Don’t you understand that you’re the only person I ever loved? How could you think that by telling me I would have ever chosen him?” she asked, jerking her head in the direction of Elijah.
“Dammit, Sloan, I was afraid! Losing you would have killed me. I am only what I am because I have you. We are only who we are because we’re together.” He was on the brink of tears and it took all her strength to not wrap him in her arms and forgive him. But she couldn’t. She looked to Elijah, a bystander to her and Jared’s suffering. She hated him for existing, for being paired to her.
She glared at him with all the anger she felt. “What do you even want? Now that I know your big secret, what do you want from me?”
He stared at her with a perplexed expression. “I just want you,” he answered boldly. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Jared stepped in front of her, squaring off with Elijah. “Well, she doesn’t want you, Daniels.”
Elijah shook his head, sidestepping him and approaching Sloan. “You weren’t so certain of that this whole time, were you, Dawson?”
Jared shoved him back from her. “Get away from her,” he growled.
Sloan backed away from them both, her slow retreat drawing their attention. In disturbing unison, they reached out to her: Elijah stepping forward, Jared extending a hand, willing her to stay.
She shook her head, unsure which boy she was addressing when she spoke.
“Just let me go.”
CHAPTER 4
When Sloan woke up, Jared was sitting at the end of their bed. She had a headache; her hair was damp with sweat. She felt disoriented and her eyes burnt with dried tears.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning over to her.
Her throat was hot and swollen. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Say it’s me. Say you would choose me.” She wanted to reach out to him, but she was too upset to comfort him. Refusing her instincts felt wrong—she had only ever known how to love him, how to help him. She had never learned how to hurt him. And she didn’t want to. She wanted to love him so much she could forget he had ever figured out how to hurt her.
“I did choose you, Jared. And I would have if presented with the choice too. Do you know how much it hurts that you didn’t know that? That it has always been only you.”
It’s still only you. Sloan studied the dark outline of this man who had hurt her and saw instead a memory of the boy she had first loved. She had been four years old—crying in the dining hall—missing a family she now couldn’t really remember having ever known. He had walked over to her, sat down beside her and held her hand. “I’m all alone,” she’d said. He squeezed her small fingers tightly, inching next to her.
“Not anymore.”
He moved closer to her on the bed, relief on his face. “So, you see why Elijah has to go now, right?”
What? It was not at all what she had expected him to say. Sloan pulled away from him, sitting up slowly. “Wait—you’re still going through with Fight Night?”
He nodded slowly. “I have to.”
“But I choose you.”
He shook his head at her, his eyes narrowing. “You still don’t understand.”
“Jared, pull out of Fight Night and I will stay with you, I will marry you, I
won’t ever tell anyone he was paired with me.”
“He won’t ever let that happen, Sloan. He will go into Fight Night and demand the Order give you to him as his Winnings. I can’t back out; it’s the only way to ensure you stay rightfully mine.”
What?
Elijah’s former words crossed her mind. “Are you sure you’re rightfully his?”
She wasn’t rightfully either of theirs. She had been wrong to ever use that word; she hadn’t meant it the way Jared and Elijah had.
She stood from the bed, steadying herself with the wall. “I am not rightfully yours—I choose you. I made a choice. I’m not going to just be given to him.”
He stood. “Can’t you see? You don’t have a choice.”
“Then let him ask! Let Elijah ask for me, beat him in the fight and we will carry on with our lives. But, Jared, please do not ask for him to be sent to Review.”
He cursed under his breath, and with a sudden jolt, he hit the wall. “Dammit, Sloan. I don’t have a choice either. He won’t stop until I lose you—he will challenge me in championship fights again and again until the Order gives you to him.”
Sloan stared at him. This wasn’t possible—there was no way they could just give her to Elijah. And then she recalled how easily they had objectified her before, and the thought became much more terrifying.
“But they can’t do that. I want you, I won’t leave you.”
“Yes, they can.”
Sloan walked out of the bedroom aimlessly, shock overwhelming her. They couldn’t do this—this couldn’t be a possibility. He followed her into their living quarters.
“I’m not property, Jared.”
“The Academy’s favored daughter is given to their favored son. Daniels and I are neck and neck here . . . If he takes my championship, he will ask them to change their decision about our pairing.”
Sloan felt sick. She needed to get out of here, to scream, to run, to fight her way out of this mess. She urgently searched for her shoes.
I am not something the Order can gift to the Academy’s best captain. I am not a prize. She thought of the strings Jared had pulled, of Fight Night, of the threat of death happening in her name. She would not be the spoils going to their prize stud, like she apparently—unknowingly—always had been.
Sloan took deep measured breaths of the cool night air. It was late and the field was bare, completely dark barring a few floodlights on the perimeter. She ran to clear her head but couldn’t get Jared off her mind. She sped up her pace.
She thought of their love and all they shared. Their laughs, their tears, their bodies . . . Had it all been a reward for having been the best? Had she made herself this trophy by pushing herself so hard? She had only ever worked to achieve such status for Jared, not for anyone else. Even, she could admit, not for herself. Yes, a part of her wanted to be the best, but it didn’t define her. The responsibility that it had brought on was enough to buckle her most days, but it had been worth it to be with him. Had she let love blind her so greatly to what was going on around her?
She pushed past the pain in her heart, extending her legs further, curving away from the reach of the floodlights and turning into the darkness. With a sharp smack Sloan went flying into the air. She fell, tuck-and-rolled and lay sprawled in the grass.
“OW!” another voice barked.
She had tripped over someone. She quickly rolled to her knees, looking back. She strained her eyes in the dark. Adjusting to the low light, she saw Elijah sitting up, brushing off his knee.
“Of course it’s you . . .” she hissed, rolling back to lie down, catching her breath. She could feel a graze on her elbow. “Just go away, Daniels.”
He crawled over to her anyway. Because apparently what I say or want means nothing.
“Couldn’t be nicer to someone you just trampled?”
“You don’t deserve it,” she said, feeling no remorse. She didn’t care about him. He nodded, remaining silent.
“I told you to leave,” she reminded.
“Well, unlike you, I have the right to make my own choices.”
Sloan bolted upright, furious. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that.”
“Relax,” he added quickly. “It was just a joke.”
“I don’t care if it was a joke. I don’t want to hear your jokes. I don’t want to hear anything from you at all.”
He remained silent—effectively scolded.
Sloan took a deep breath, brushing grass off herself. “What are you even doing out here?” she demanded.
He shrugged his large shoulders. “Getting perspective.”
She shook her head. That’s rich. “On what? The fact that you’re ruining someone’s relationship?”
“No,” he answered through grinding teeth. “I just like to look at the sky sometimes . . . It’s the same sky that our families are seeing . . .”
Sloan might have hated this boy with a fiery passion but she wouldn’t poke fun at him for trying to reminisce over his family.
Slowly, she turned her gaze upward. The midnight blue span was bedazzled with a million marvelous crystals. It was incredible but it didn’t help her put a face to the parents who might also be looking up at it. She watched the sky transform above her, stars dancing and shooting. She didn’t want to be out here with him and she didn’t want to be inside with Jared.
“It all reminds me that this is just a place, just a time in our lives, that there’s more out there.” He spoke softly.
She turned to him. “It might be just a place but it’s the place that made us—and it might just be a time in our lives, but the way you’re going it could be where your life ends, and it could be where you ruin my life.”
“I’m not trying to ruin your life,” he whispered softly.
That seems to be exactly what you’re trying to do.
He took a deep breath before adding, “The Academy ruins lives.”
His words shocked her. Whether there was truth in them or not—no one spoke about the Academy like that.
“If you think the Academy ruins lives then why are you so hell-bent on having the Order honor Nuptia’s pairing between us?”
He looked away from her. “Jared told you that’s what I’m going to ask for?”
She didn’t need to answer. Of course she knew now.
He sighed heavily. “Look, Nuptia might ruin lives, but it’s not wrong about who makes good partners. I need someone I can trust, a partner.”
Sloan thought of Kenny, of Cassie Flatt, of the very situation she found herself in with Jared and Elijah. It did ruin lives.
“I get that, Elijah, I really do . . . but it won’t be me. Jared will ultimately try to get you Dismissed and you need to know, regardless of the fight, regardless of anything, I won’t choose you.”
If Jared went ahead with his murderous plans, though, she didn’t know if she could choose him either.
He nodded at her slowly. “I won’t need you to choose.”
His words mirrored Jared.
She leaped to her feet—she had heard enough. “Screw you, Daniels.”
As she stormed off she gasped for air, her emotions finally overwhelming her. She wasn’t property. She deserved to have a choice in all of this—she couldn’t just be given away by the Order. As she made futile attempts to hold back her tears, the skies above thundered, breaking the night open, releasing a shower of rain on her. She picked up her pace, but her mounting sobs began to ripple through her body, taking her over.
Her wet hair stuck to her face and she tried to push it out of her eyes with trembling hands. Her clothes clung to her small frame and slowed her. She heaved for a breath. Suddenly, Elijah was in front of her, his arms locking around her. She struck at him wildly, hitting him in the chest, trying to push him away from her.
“I hate
you, don’t you understand that? I will never choose you,” she cried. He pushed past her sad assaults, past her hard words, and pulled her against his chest, letting her cry, letting her lash out against him.
“He doesn’t love me enough to change his mind,” she sobbed. He held her tightly, letting her break in his arms.
Through her mounting wails and the thunderous sky, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard him whisper, “He doesn’t love you the way I do.”
Fight Night was a week away. Sloan and Jared had barely spoken to one another. He was hell-bent on following through with his plans, despite her best efforts to change his mind. How couldn’t he see that if he became someone murderous she couldn’t love him the same way she always had? All he knew was that if he won his fight, he would keep her, with or without her consent. It was the only thought Jared and Elijah cared about. They didn’t seem to care that if they won her over that way, she would never forgive them. She would never love them the way they hoped their win would ensure.
For a while, she had felt perpetually sick, knowing how much of her life wasn’t her own. Until she remembered something that finally offered her a small degree of relief—she would have Winnings in Fight Night too.
General Stone circled a group of senior girls practicing Krav Maga. “Sir, can I speak to you?”
“Lieutenant, I will be with you in a minute for training,” he answered dismissively.
They too had barely spoken recently. She hadn’t known what to say to him about the fight the Order forced her into, and he seemed to have nothing to say to her about it.
“Sir, this isn’t about training.”
He shot her a questioning glance, but lifted his whistle and signaled the girls to stop.
It’s nice to know there are still some privileges for being their champion.
“My office,” he ordered, leading her to the back of the hall. She followed quickly, slamming the door shut behind them.
He sat down heavily in his chair, running his hands over his grey hair. She sat opposite him. She had never really noticed him ageing, but seeing him now, weary and tired, she could see it. His haggard hands and the deep lines around his eyes were all more prominent under the dull fluorescent lights.