Untamed

Chapter 30 #2

I brush past Ender, lifting my wrist when he attempts to capture it. A new song begins just as Grayson enfolds me in his arms. There are too many people around, and I figure Ender won’t make a scene. Not unless he wants it to be included in the news tomorrow.

“Damn, Vee, how do you tolerate that guy?” Grayson mutters.

“You know it’s me?” I ask, surprised.

“Mercy told me when I spoke with her,” he says, glaring over my shoulder. “What’s his deal?”

“Maybe he really likes my sister.” I shrug.

“He acted the same way after the attack,” Grayson says. “He has a problem with me.”

“He has a problem with everyone,” I correct. “He’s Ender Vale. The worst person alive.”

“True.”

“You look ridiculous,” Grayson says, switching the subject. He smiles at my getup. “Like a puffed pastry.”

I shove his shoulder, smiling despite myself.

“Your facial hair is worse.”

“Ouch,” he says.

My eyes find Ender over his shoulder. He is leaning against the wall, glaring at me so viciously, it’s a wonder I don’t drop dead from the force.

I uncurl my middle finger where it rests on Grayson’s back and feel a smug sense of satisfaction when his scowl deepens. I freeze. Damn it. My sister would not do that. She never swears or says anything remotely vulgar.

“Vee, your father mentioned something the other day.”

I sigh deeply. “Must we speak about that wretched beast?”

“He thinks Mercy and I should wed once she’s finished her training,” he says. “He says we are well-suited.”

My jaw clenches. It is rather obvious that Warrick wants to punish me for all my years of insubordination. He got Mercy enrolled in the Forge to spite me, and now he plans to wed her to the man he thinks I love.

I adore Grayson; he’s wild and humorous and charming. But I’ve never loved him. I’ve never loved any man.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” he says.

My eyes snap towards him.

“You don’t?”

“I mean, you’re Mercy, aren’t you?” Grayson says. “It’ll be us.”

“I don’t want to get married, Gray,” I say, frustrated. “I just escaped one imprisonment and refuse to trade it for another. I’m not ready for anything else, even with someone as wonderful as you.”

I am not prepared for that kind of commitment. My focus is on working with the Resistance and finishing what my mother started.

“I just miss you, Vee,” Grayson says with a deep sigh. “It is impossible to get a minute alone with you, without the Commandant breathing down my neck. Even now, he looks like he’s going to snap my neck for daring to touch you.”

Grayson spins us, so I am forced to face Ender and be subjected to his hostility again. His jaw is clenched so tight it must hurt. For a second, I feel a sense of remorse for upsetting him. Our night wasn’t as terrible as I expected.

“I’ll speak to you later, Gray,” I say. “Good night.”

Grayson opens his mouth to resist, but I don’t want to deal with a sulky Ender for a minute longer. I swear my skin is half-flayed from the daggers his eyes are throwing my way.

“I’ll try to find a way to see you,” I promise.

“Fine.” He sighs. “Let me know when you escape your jailer.”

“Ha,” I say. “An apt description.”

Grayson releases me, and I make my way to Mercy. I am so done with this night. I need to get this horrendous dress off and wash my face with soap. I wish I could do the same to my brain. I don’t want to ever think about this party again.

Ender approaches me, and I raise my hand, uninterested in anything he has to say.

“I need to speak with my sister,” I say, before Ender can get a word out. “Girl stuff.”

I dive between the crowd and quickly spot my sister at a table with Knox and the others. Knox is gesturing wildly with his hands, and to my surprise, Mercy is laughing. I haven’t seen her so relaxed in a long time. It’s a nice sight to see.

“Can I borrow my sister?”

I don’t wait for a response before I pull Mercy to her feet. I need to get out of this place as soon as possible.

“Listen, I upset Ender, and I don’t really want to deal with him anymore, so can we change?” I ask quickly.

“Your friends are nice,” Mercy says. “And they really like you.”

“Yeah, Rei was a monster when we met, but she’s cool now. As is Sora, but she’s a Common, so she wasn’t invited, and I completely forgot to tell her. I would have snuck her in right under Tamsin’s watchful eye,” I say. “And did you speak with Spider, my little psycho?”

“I’ve never had friends,” Mercy whispers. “It was kind of nice to spend time with them.”

I pause when we’re halfway up the stairs.

Guilt slides down my throat like acid, burning me from the inside out.

We were both stuck on that estate for so long, it robbed us of our youth.

We weren’t allowed to attend school. Warrick hired a range of tutors for our education.

When Mercy got her letter, I wonder if for a sliver of a second, she had wanted to experience a world outside our father’s control.

“I’m so sorry, Mercy,” I say softly. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be trapped in this place.”

“It’s not terrible,” she replies. “I read, garden, and sometimes the chef lets me bake.”

“Does Ender keep you company?” I ask. “He seemed attached to you tonight?”

I keep my tone dry and uninterested. Even though what Ender felt tonight was far past attachment, he was downright obsessed.

“It’s not like that, Vee,” she says. “He avoids me—all the time. I was surprised by his attention to you, especially during the dance. He looked at you like…”

“Like what?” I ask nervously.

Mercy smiles tightly. “It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t go for him. You hate anyone who serves the regime.”

“I do,” I say. The words weigh heavily on my tongue. I wasn’t thinking straight tonight. A few hours with Ender being bearable, and I forgot my entire purpose. It is pathetic.

I steel my shoulders, prepared to put this entire night behind me. And to never think of it again.

We resume climbing until a curt voice forces us to a halt.

“Where are you going?”

I turn slowly to face Ender. His eyes twinkle with a cruel glint. I resist the urge to challenge him. My emotions are frayed from everything: the meeting with his father, Warrick’s taunts, the dance with Ender. A lot has happened, and I need a second to process it all.

“Mercy is going to switch into her uniform,” I say. “Knox is taking her back to the Forge.”

“Excellent,” he says. “Can I have a word with you while she gets ready?”

“She needs my help,” I say.

“Doing what?” he asks. “Fastening her trousers.”

“If you want a candid response, the truth is that we are going upstairs to talk shit about you,” I snap. “Bye.”

Ender takes the stairs two at a time. His hand closes around my wrist, firm enough to steal my balance, and I release Mercy just before she stumbles.

He doesn’t slow down or look back, just pulls me with him, back down the steps. I can feel the heat of his body as he moves ahead of me. All the reporters are gone, and the foyer is startlingly quiet.

“We’re going to wait right here while your sister prepares herself,” Ender says coolly. He turns his head to address Mercy. “You have five minutes.”

“I need to speak with Haven,” Mercy says, panic sharpening her voice. “It’s important.”

“It can wait,” Ender replies. His tone unyielding.

It hits me like a punch to the gut. He knows. The infuriating satisfaction in his eyes confirms that he’s known for some time, and he’s been letting it all play out, watching to see how far we’re willing to go before we confess.

Mercy stares at me, waiting for a sign, but I have nothing.

“Go on then,” Ender says. “Get ready, Mercy.”

Mercy climbs up, her back curved in fear.

His attention shifts to me the moment she disappears.

“You know, Haven,” he says, voice dropping, “this marriage doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

His fingers slide along the inside of my wrist, slow and deliberate, tracing my pulse. My breath catches despite myself. I hate that he can feel how fast it’s racing. I hate that he is using his touch to manipulate me.

Shivers slither down my spine. I lift my chin, meeting his dark, hungry gaze.

“It could be,” he continues, stepping closer, “different.”

“How?” I ask shakily.

His fingers slide down and tangle around my hand, gripping me with a possessiveness that frightens me.

“Let go of me,” I breathe.

He ignores me. Instead, he lifts my hand slightly, studying our hold. My hand is small in his, fingers slim and delicate. My oval nails are clear. I removed my black polish because Mercy prefers light shades.

“Trust,” he begins.

His misty-blue eyes lock on mine.

“Without trust, we have no foundation,” Ender continues. “Is there something you wish to confess?”

“No.”

His mouth curves. Cold and mocking.

“How long will Mercy survive in training?” he asks lightly, tilting his head. “An hour? A day? A week?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say hoarsely. “You’re acting insane. Maybe we should get you a doctor. Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go look for one?”

I try to pry my fingers free, but it only makes his grip tighten.

Ender leans in, his mouth close to my ear, his voice low enough that it makes me quiver.

“I will enjoy breaking her while you remain here,” he murmurs, “waiting for me to return. My perfect, little wife.”

A small gasp escapes me. I know Ender enough to know that he means every word.

“Fine,” I say between gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

He releases my hand immediately.

“Confess.”

“Confess what?”

Ender blinks, infuriatingly calm, offering neither confirmation nor denial about what he knows. Something inside me snaps, and I throw up my hands.

“You caught us,” I say bitterly. “We swapped places.”

He claps. Twice. The rhythm is slow and unhurried.

“Was that so hard?”

“When did you find out?” I ask.

I wonder if it was when I flipped him off when I was dancing with Grayson that was completely out of character. It had to have been then, or it’ll mean that everything before that…wasn’t for my sister, it was for me.

My heart thuds furiously as I await his response.

“Before we got down the stairs,” Ender says.

Dread creeps down my spine, coiling through my bones like vines. He has known the entire night.

“How?” I demand.

That is impossible. Nobody ever knows.

“You talk too much,” he replies evenly. “And you’re mean.”

He’s not being honest with me. I was barely speaking then. I fold my arms over my chest, annoyed that he is withholding the truth from me. His gaze dips for just a fraction of a second to my breasts.

“Stop gawking at my breasts!”

His eyes return to mine.

“I wasn’t,” he says. An angry flush crawls up his cheekbones. “Did I mention how arrogant you are?”

“I could say the same,” I shoot back. “So what now?”

He studies me, head tilted, like he’s rearranging a game board in his mind. He’s figuring out exactly how he plans to control me.

“Do you want to return to the Forge as Mercy?”

“Of course.”

“From now on,” he says, “you will attend all public gatherings. Not your sister. You. Especially our wedding ceremony.”

My stomach drops.

“It will take place one month from now, at my family estate,” he continues. “Our vows will be true. You will be my wife in name and virtue.”

“Mercy will be a good wife,” I add quickly. “She’s kind. She’s patient and—”

“One more word,” Ender interrupts, his tone sharpening, “and I’ll tell Warrick everything. The engagement will be dissolved. You’ll both return home disgraced and constantly under his watch.”

He steps closer again. I can see the flecks of silver in his eyes.

“The choice is yours,” he says. “Oh, and Warrick?”

“What?”

“This thing between you and Sullivan ends tonight,” Ender says, his voice dropping in warning. “If I find out otherwise, I will destroy him. Is that understood?”

“Gray is just a friend,” I say. “We haven’t kissed in mon—”

“Do not brief me on the details,” he cuts me off. “Just end it.”

“Why does it even matter who you marry?” I whisper. “You don’t even like my sister or me.”

Ender reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brush my skin.

“I suppose,” he says softly, “that’s what makes it all the more fun.”

There is no real choice. Either Mercy is forced to return in my stead and face my enemies while I remain stuck here. Or he tells Warrick the truth.

Neither is an ideal solution. And I’m not ready to give up everything to spite him.

“I accept.”

“Perfect,” he purrs.

Ender turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, tied to the one man who knows exactly who I am and intends to control me because of it.