Sawyer
By the time I make it to the treeline, my lungs ache. My legs burn from being propelled by an endless pour of adrenaline. Music rises over the crunch of leaves and heavy panting.
I follow the sound while hugging the treeline until I spot a woman in a bright yellow sundress, then two men with crossed arms and moving mouths, then a group of four, then a crowd of people gathered around the ceremonial stage.
I cut across the grass and work my way to the back of the crowd, catching the curious eyes of several attendees.
Suspicious as hell.
But I made it.
Sweat clings to my hood as I throw it off my forehead, my hand swiping back damp hair. Suspicious. Suspicious. Suspicious.
Calm down.
A woman in front of me turns. Her friendly smile quickly dips into a frown.
Relax.
“How you doin’?” I ask, forcing my lips into a smile. I slip my hands into my pockets and pull my shoulders down. Flatten the wrinkles on my forehead.
When she faces forward, I drop my eyes to my clothes.
No dirt. No debris.
I look fine, I think. Sweaty but fine.
A piano key cuts off abruptly. My head snaps up to the stage, but by the time my fear can register, the crowd erupts in applause.
My eyes narrow as another song plays, little girls in pink tutus spinning in tight circles to the upbeat tune of… I blink… Elton John’s Tiny Dancer.
What the fuck is this?
The crowd, on closer inspection, is all smiles. A Cultivator’s head rests on her partner’s shoulder. A Nurturer’s hands clasp tightly at her chest while she sways, itching to clap.
Is this a ceremony?
The longer I scan, the calmer I feel until my eyes pass a curtain of white hair toward the back of the crowd, just thirty steps away. Half of Luna’s face shows a blankness that doesn’t suggest pain. Doesn’t suggest anything.
My chest seizes. She’s here… Which means Aurelius’s minions have already claimed her.
An arm curves around Luna’s back, and I follow the bulky limb all the way up to a face I wish I hated to see. Thorne leans uncomfortably close, but if Luna arches away, I don’t see it beneath the jacket swallowing her. Thorne’s jacket.
Fear.
Jealousy.
Relief.
I don’t know which to feel. I don’t know which is strongest.
From the stories Zephyr has told me… He’s going to get Luna hurt. His girlfriend is one of the most dangerous leaders of the cult, and she has a violent side.
But the protectiveness reeking in his posture, in that jacket, in that arm…
Maybe Luna is different. Maybe he’ll protect her.
Or maybe she needs to leave. Now. Right fucking now.
I go to take off toward her with absolutely no plan coming to mind. It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid in the time it takes me to walk one step, so maybe it’s a good thing when delicate fingers trail across my arm.
“Hi.”
I force a smile onto my face before turning to Zephyr. She sidles up beside me, her stare pointed at the stage.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“You’re sweaty.”
“I know. I had to check on the girl first, so I jogged here.”
“You were checking on the girl.” She nods once—curt.
“Yeah… Thorne had already gotten to her, though.”
“Mmm.” Her chin lifts, face visibly stiff. “Poor luck.”
My eyes draw toward Luna. Poor luck indeed.
“Hey, you okay?” I nudge Zephyr’s shoulder. She doesn’t respond.
My front teeth tap while my eyes once find Luna. As if sensing my gaze, she turns her head. The moment she registers me, her eyes widen, lips parting. I lift my hand in a little wave. She doesn’t wave back.
Zephyr arches onto her toes to follow my gaze and tenses when she sees who I’m looking at. She clasps her hands behind her back and slowly wanders away. I shuffle my feet but don’t outright follow her. Yet. “Zephyr,” I hiss. She doesn’t turn around.
I look at Luna, still with her eyes squarely on me. Thorne bends to say something to her, but she doesn’t acknowledge him. It kills me to walk away now that I’m this close, but this isn’t the time to leave anyway. Prince Charming-ish’s arms are currently the safest place to be.
I follow after Zephyr. “Hey,” I whisper call. “Where are you going?”
She roots her feet to the ground, teeth grinding. “It isn’t safe for me to be talking to you.”
I open my mouth but don’t argue. She’s right. If they knew she was helping me, they’d kill her. Or enslave her.
But we’ve been careful up to this point. She’s Aurelius’s daughter—it isn’t hard to construct reasons for speaking to me.
“There isn’t a rule saying we can’t be friends, right?”
She rolls her eyes and leans close. “If you’re worried about the cameras in the mines, I shut them off already. If you’re worried about something else, well … you probably should be. I can’t help you.”
With that, she searches across the crowd where Luna is and pointedly walks away.
She shut off the cameras. She had the foresight to do that.
I frown at her retreating form. It’s insensible that I hate the idea of her feeling used, when… Duh.
But I do hate it. Because I do feel badly for her; I do care for her.
Even if she isn’t the person I’m risking my life for.
As the ceremony—or whatever it is—comes to a close, I stride toward Luna while the crowd cheers for the little, dancing girls. She doesn’t look at me as I approach, and I don’t think it’s because she’s unaware. She’s avoiding my eyes.
“Hey,” I say as the crowd starts to disperse. Aurelius is shouting from the stage, wishing them a joyous evening while Luna, Thorne, and I stand like statues.
“Hello, Sawyer,” she says, her voice low. Formal. Different.
Finally, she turns toward me, but it’s Thorne who holds my attention. His eyes are narrowed, the arm around Luna tightening. As if I’m the person she needs saved from.
“Could you give us a minute?” I ask him, but his response becomes irrelevant as Aurelius approaches.
I try to smile a greeting at Aurelius instead of grimace. “Aurelius.” I tip my head. He just stares at me, then at Luna, then at me. He has a what the fuck are you doing here look on his face that I try to ignore.
Calm. River of calm.
I clear my throat of any lingering panic. “Aurelius, I’m afraid I have some bad news… The girl,” I tilt my head at Luna. “She isn’t quite ready. I’ve considered it, and I believe one last session will—”
“What are you talking about?” He lets out a dry laugh and waves to Luna. “Of course she’s ready. You had three weeks. You’re done.”
I shake my head, but he’s already turned.
“Take Luna to my quarters,” Aurelius tells Thorne who responds like the tool he is. His hand covers her shoulder, but she jerks away before he can turn her, eyes shining with quiet dread as she watches to see if I’ll help. My heart leaps into my throat.
“The three weeks end tomorrow.” I keep my voice as level as I possibly can. But not level enough. There’s a hitch, a crack of anxiety that pushes up my throat and vibrates inside my arms—begging for attention, pleading for escape.
Too late.
What if I’m too late?
“Aurelius, with all due respect, I take pride in my work. She—”
“Sawyer, my boy.” Aurelius claps me on the shoulder and laughs. “You’re done. You did great. We’re very proud of you.”
Thorne takes Luna’s arm and yanks her into him, dragging her several feet. Her eyes stay locked on me.
“Please,” I say because I’m desperate. “I’m the expert, remember? Just—”
Aurelius takes my face in his hands. “Zephyr has got a special room ready for you at the Grove. Enjoy your new home.”
Aurelius turns to follow Thorne and Luna, but she doesn’t go peacefully. Her heels grind into the earth as she tries to pry Thorne’s hand from her arm. He takes both her biceps and backpedals.
“Sawyer!” she calls—a soul-cracking plea, a plea that pushes me toward her. But a Keeper takes my arm while another blocks my path.
“Luna!”
“Sawyer!” She screeches as Thorne throws her over his shoulder and carries her away.
I expect to hear worried voices from the passing crowd, but they watch us curiously.
It isn’t until Luna and Aurelius are both out of sight that the Keepers set me free and ask if I’d like to be escorted to the Grove.
I tell them no and trudge that way, but I don’t get the fright on Luna’s face out of my mind.
I don’t get the image of Aurelius’s hands on her to go away.
If he touches her, it’ll be for the last time.
One way or another, this ends tonight.