CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MY STOMACH TIED INTO KNOTS AS THE POD SHOT THROUGH the sky toward Collin’s entertainment quarters. Violet’s smile and parting instructions pulsed through the night air in time with my heart.
“What do I do?” I had asked.
“Tonight, pay attention. Be his Mate and pay attention. Try to gain his trust. We will talk when we see you next.”
I tugged at the part of the gown that wrapped around my neck like a noose.
Which side are you on? Them or us?
It was safer to do what had always been done—to follow the Illum’s rules. Adhere to the peaceful facade they had crafted. I had a litany of reasons to conform. But I ignored every single one of them.
The Pod stopped, its doors opening to a stunning antechamber. Fear latched onto my shoulders, threatening to pull me down, but I stepped into their clouds anyway.
A honeyed “Hello” floated toward me along with an overwhelming sweet floral scent.
Nora stood beside a table and a large glass bursting with white lilies towered over her.
Her sage green silk gown was so pale it looked almost white, with thin straps, a swooping neckline, a low back, and a high slit.
I glanced at her clasped hands. Her left wrist was glowing.
I realized I had never noticed it. She seemed to wear the glowing silver as an accessory rather than it wearing her.
“Your wrist is silver,” I stated instead of hello.
Nora released a twinkling laugh. “I am the Mate of an Elite, not an Illum.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, remembering my manners.
Nora sighed. “Please don’t apologize. I’d very much like to be a friend in your eyes, not an Elite.”
“We aren’t allowed those down below,” I muttered.
“The blonde, Gregory’s intended Mate, is she not your friend?”
“Like I said, we aren’t allowed friends below.”
Nora didn’t pry. “Well, treat me how you would want a friend to treat you, please.” She stepped closer, threading her arm with mine. “You do have one up here.”
“A what?”
“A friend, if you would like one,” Nora said, leading me from the antechamber and into the room beyond.
Two sweeping staircases hugged the walls, meeting at the top of the grandiose entry room. Large glowing cylinders were suspended above us, connected by gold wiring, stacked precariously—like one huge balancing act.
“I didn’t know if it was appropriate,” I said.
“It is if you’d like it to be. You have days off now. I am free for two more moons.”
I shifted my gaze to Nora as she looked at me. “Free?”
“Yes, I will enter my procreation phase with William. Things will be different then.” Her tone was flat.
“I would like a friend.”
Nora squeezed my arm excitedly. “Good—it makes my plan so much easier if you go along with it.”
“What plan?” I asked as we ventured down a long hall.
“Making you my friend. It would happen either way. I’d make sure of it.” She grinned and guided me past countless stunning spaces.
“I feel your plans usually work out.”
“All but one,” she informed me. “Welcome to the formal living quarters. Collin, sadly, never uses them.”
“Why?”
“Some things are hard to revisit,” Nora said quietly, her steps picking up their pace.
“What about for parties or balls? Entertaining friends?” I asked.
“Collin isn’t a fan of either. He has work.” We reached the end of the hall, stopping at the door. “And Phillip.”
“And you, right?”
Nora smiled, laced with sadness once more. “I have been in contracts all my adult life. Before that, I was being prepared for one. I am usually with my Mate or offspring, while I get to be.”
I glanced at Nora, her sorrow slipping past my walls. Her chin was held high, the picture of Elite grace, but her lips were pursed, her eyes heavy. A weariness blanketed her.
I saw the pain of the mothers from the Sanctuary in her expression. How did it feel to be without one’s offspring? Ice slipped down my spine. I would find out for myself soon enough.
“Do you see your offspring often?” I asked.
“On visiting day, I see them all,” Nora said, stopping at the door.
“Them? You have more than one?”
“I have three,” Nora told me as she knocked on the door.
My mind raced. She was thirty-two. We had offspring every five years or sixty-five moons. A short Courting Phase, into procreation, into maternity. We then cared for the offspring until the Academy. Approximately five years for the entire process. The math didn’t add up. “Did you produce twins?”
“Enter,” came Collin’s voice.
Nora shook her head before opening the door.
If Nora had three offspring, she had been Mated at seventeen.
Disgust leveled me. Before she had even left the Academy.
Why had the Illum done that? Collin would have still been in the Academy as well, not yet an Illum, I assumed.
I couldn’t fathom why he would want to join the group that did such horrendous things to his sister.
I didn’t get to ask anything else as Nora lingered at the door.
She didn’t balk from the shock radiating from me.
“We all have to do our part, Emeline,” she said, then slipped away. I watched her go for a moment. Her lithe steps, her honey voice, her softness as others whispered and judged—they were the armor she hid behind. My heart ached.
“Good evening, Emeline.” That powerful voice spilled into the hall, snaking down my spine.
“Hello, Collin,” I responded quietly as I stepped over the threshold.
Sapphire eyes collided with my concealed defect, their depths churning, silencing my turbulent thoughts. He stood from his desk, dressed in all black again.
The ceiling soared. An angular chandelier hung directly above us, comprised of eight long gleaming spears connected at the top before brutally jutting out.
Moonlight streamed through a wall of windows, outshining the spears, illuminating the cavernous room.
The glow cast the wall behind his gray marble desk into relief—shelves sat empty.
He leaned against his desk, unrolling his sleeves and fastening the cuffs. Light reflected from the golden buttons.
A small black orb the size of a marble projected a labyrinth of tunnels into the air—paths that dipped and twisted, coming together only to shoot off in opposite directions.
He tracked my gaze. “Beneath.”
“What?” I asked, straightening.
“The tunnels of beneath,” he repeated. He tapped the orb, and the map shifted, going out of focus before settling again, the river that ran through the city now visible and the lone bridge that connected to Low Town. A blue circle glowed under the bridge.
“What is the blue spot?” I asked carefully.
“Work. Identifying weak entrances for the retaliation.” My heart leapt, shocked that he had answered.
I hadn’t realized I had ventured so close to the desk—to Collin. I stumbled back, sucking in a sharp breath, and his hand steadied me, pulling me forward to stand between his legs.
He’s an Illum, my brain raged as I froze in his magnetic field. The vile things I had learned, had seen. The Parting still ringing loudly in my ears, haunting my every thought.
But Violet’s instructions had been clear. Be his Mate. Pay attention. Gain his trust.
My pulse rioted under my skin as his hand lingered on my waist. There were no Elite in the room to watch, no one to pretend for.
A muscle in his jaw feathered as his warm grip left my side, yet I didn’t move. I couldn’t help myself. My eyes chased his hand as it found his thigh—his fingertips digging into the muscle like it had dug into my skin in the Sphere.
I stepped back. “What retaliation?” I asked, more breathless than I intended.
He turned from me, tapping the orb, and the plans disappeared. He slipped the object into his pocket.
“One that will cause problems,” he told me plainly.
“Why?”
Collin looked at me, considering. “The Reaper has been too bold. He’s killed Elite. Highlighted flaws in the system. The Illum does not tolerate chaos. They are adamant about sending him a message. One that will give him—pause.”
“Do you think it’ll work? This plan?”
“I do not know yet what the carnage of his people will do to him,” Collin stated stiffly.
Carnage . . . Apprehension spun around me. “What exactly are you going to do?”
Power roiled in his sapphire pools. “My role.”
“What exactly does that mean? What are you going to do to the Majors?”
“Whatever is required of me. Everything I do is for the Greater Good.” Collin stood up straight, towering over me. “Everything you see tonight is for the Greater Good.”
I refused to move as he walked to the door, holding it open.
“The Majors are people.” My heart skipped a beat.
“They are waiting for us,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Why am I here? What is this dinner about?”
“The man who whistled at you, the reason you froze at the Pond. Did you tell anyone else about him?” Collin asked, power radiating from him.
My heart stopped. “How did you—what are you talking about?”
“Very little happens in this city that the Illum are not aware of.”
“Collin, please, tell me why I’m here.”
“You’re my Mate,” Collin said, his polished exterior gleaming, his face utterly impassive. There was not a single crack. “I’d ask you to trust me, but given our brief conversation at the Pond, that would be a waste of time.”
I stepped back, his words hitting me in the chest. “Collin—”
He whipped his head toward me. “Tabitha does not handle being made to wait. She instructed we walk in together. Your questions have made us late.”
Suddenly I felt the height of where I stood—how easy it would be to fall.
“After you,” Collin said. There was no warmth to his voice. Violet’s advice fell away at his austere tone.
“No beseeching my forgiveness tonight?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I did. Maybe I wanted to know that the man who had chuckled at my indecent sounds was real. That the kindness, the tenderness with which he had kissed me, weren’t my desperate delusions.
Still think he’s different? Hal’s taunting voice found me.
Collin’s hand tightened on the door, his knuckles bone white. He didn’t meet my eyes as he gestured. “After you, please.”
I bowed my head and headed out. His voice was so low I almost missed the words, but the coldness slithered beneath my skin.
“I’m not foolish enough to ask for something no longer obtainable.”