Chapter 36
chapter
thirty-six
Haven
Last night is a complete blur.
I remember dancing and drinking. Grayson was there. I think Ender arrived at some point, but I can’t imagine him partying with a bunch of recruits. Everything is jumbled and messy, and my thoughts are a tangled thread that refuses to unknot.
I sit upright and stare at the dusty blue walls. I’m in an unfamiliar bedroom. There’s a desk, a black couch, a rack with different weapons, and a window.
A door opens on the left, and Ender enters with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
My eyes widen.
Ender and I…the thought is too crazy to think, my brain struggles to comprehend the truth before me. I swallow as my eyes trace his muscled torso. Beads of water drip down his tan skin, slipping beneath the white towel.
“Warrick,” he says, a bite to his words. “Stop looking at me like that.”
I scramble upright, fixing the mess that is my hair.
“Look, last night was fun.” I run my tongue along my dry lips. “Your moves were impressive. But it was a mistake, and I’m willing to forget it, if you are?”
Ender rips open his closet door, yanking out a t-shirt and pulling it over his head. I’m still watching him when he unravels his towel. He glances back at me, as if suddenly remembering that I’m there.
“Do you mind?”
“Is modesty really necessary after last night?” I ask.
It seems selfish of him not to share a glimpse of what I might have looked upon last night.
“We didn’t sleep together, Warrick,” he says, with an exasperated look. “I don’t bed my drunk recruits.”
“Oh,” I say.
My cheeks burn as I turn around. Fabric rustles as he dresses, and I frantically search for a reason as to why I wanted to see him naked.
“I was just kidding about the modesty thing.” I chuckle nervously. “I would never ask you to—”
“You just did,” Ender says dryly. “You literally asked your reporting officer to undress before you? Do you know the punishment for such an offense?”
“Well, why am I even here?” I ask. I raise my hands to gesture at his bedroom. “What happened last night?”
“You drank too much. I brought you here to sleep it off. I took the couch,” he says.
“Oh,” I say. “We never…”
“There was one point when you woke up scared and asked me to hug you, or rather demanded,” Ender says. “I did it to oblige you, but beyond that, we didn’t touch.”
Now I’m really embarrassed. I can’t believe I forced him to comfort me from a nightmare. I hate how I feel indebted to him, so I turn it back on him.
“I’m surprised you would care to help a weak Common,” I say, reminding him of his foul words the other day.
His jaw unclenches, and a flash of regret crosses his eyes.
But I don’t care to indulge in this conversation; Ender has made his thoughts about me rather clear. I am beneath him.
I head to the door, prepared to do the mortifying walk back to my bedroom.
There will be whispers about where I vanished to.
I might run into the others in the hallway in my rumpled sleepwear.
If I’m lucky, they will assume I went back to Grayson’s room and not the man engaged to my sister.
This is such a mess. How could I do this to Mercy?
Even if there is nothing between them, the rumors will affect her.
It doesn’t matter if she wears my name or I hers. At the end of the day, this is the life we both agreed to live, and I have to respect that.
“You can’t go out like that,” Ender says.
He offers a shirt from his closet.
“I’m not wearing your shirt,” I say. “That is entirely inappropriate.”
“You were begging for me to strip five seconds ago?” Ender says sarcastically. “Now you want to be appropriate?”
“Go die in a ditch, Vale,” I snarl. “You disgust me.”
I walk to the door and grab the doorknob. It slams shut behind me. Ender’s palm lies flat above my head.
“Don’t test me, Warrick,” he warns. “I’m having a shit morning, and your attitude isn’t helping.”
I spin around, startled by the feel of his body against mine. He’s in a pair of dark cargo pants and a shirt that hugs his muscular frame.
I swallow, losing my nerve for a second, before I quickly collect it.
“You’re engaged to my sister,” I say, refusing to balk under his hot gaze. “I’m not walking around Block A in your shirt so people can whisper.”
Ender’s jaw tightens.
“I am engaged to you,” he says sharply. “And you will wear my shirt. Whether I force it over your head or you do it yourself, the choice is yours.”
“I’m single,” I say. “My sister is engaged. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?”
“You agreed we would do this my way,” Ender says. His brows draw together, tight with irritation. “You attend every public event. You speak the marriage vows. You become my wife. Not your sister.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Which means Mercy doesn’t get paraded around as your possession, because she is not your wife. So leave her alone.”
I can’t believe I am resorting to using my sister’s name as a shield. It is rather obvious that by Mercy I mean me pretending to be Mercy.
“You created this mess,” Ender says tersely. “You ruined everything.”
“There’s a simple way out,” I say.
His gaze sharpens. “And that is?”
The words climb out of my throat, scraping my flesh like broken glass. I want to swallow them back, but I don’t. This is the answer to our troubles.
I refuse to speak vows that I do not believe in. While I am not opposed to the idea of marriage, I always assumed it would be with someone I love. A person who treasures me and wants to give me the world. Not Ender Vale.
Mercy understands duty and obligation far better than I ever could. This won’t break her as it would me. I can’t marry Ender. He does not fit into my plans.
“Give my sister a chance. Give the marriage a chance,” I say softly. “She’s kind. She’s patient. And she’s the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. If my father finds out the truth about our switch, threaten him. Or tell him you love her. Maybe by then you will. We can start fresh.”
Silence sits heavy between us. I’m too scared to look up at him.
“It’s a good plan,” I continue, staring at the floor tiles. “We can be cordial. We will be family after all. I’ll live as a soldier, and she’ll be your wife.”
The way it was always supposed to be.
I hold my breath, my chest tight, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. Fear and hope twist together like a pair of clasped hands. I dare to look up at him. His rain-dark hair clings to his forehead, and his pretty pink lips are as ripe as strawberries.
“What will your life be like as a soldier?” he asks.
His words shock me; he is considering it. I don’t dare to smile or let relief wash over me, carrying away all the torment and confusion I feel whenever I am around him.
A small part of me is a little upset that he is willing to accept my proposal, which is ridiculous, because it is my idea after all.
“Like yours,” I say. “Bad rotations until I earn rank. I’ll travel, something I’ve always wanted to do. Maybe I’ll get lucky and be stationed with Gray and we’ll—”
“Stop.”
The word cracks like a whip. Violence paints his mist-blue eyes, a storm churning just below the surface. But for some reason, standing this close to him, I am not afraid.
“I will take nothing less than what I am owed,” he says, his voice dark and lethal. “I was promised, Haven Warrick. And I will not accept a replacement.”
My throat tightens. “Vale, please, it’s a good pla—”
“Stop,” he cuts in. “I meant what I said. If you don’t fall in line, I will tell your father everything.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“You don’t even like me,” I say, the truth slipping out before I can control it. “You called me weak. You called me dumb. Why would you want to be trapped with me?”
“I never called you dumb.”
“So you admit it,” I say bitterly. “You think I’m weak.”
“Why does it matter what I think?” he asks softly.
I look away. “It doesn’t.”
Ender steps closer, sealing the space between us. His fingers tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch burns my skin, and my heart races. I can feel my cheeks growing flushed, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
“For what it’s worth,” Ender says slowly. “You might be the cleverest and bravest person I’ve ever met. You never fail to surprise me, Haven Warrick.”
I hate that my heart soars at his compliment. That a small piece of me aches for his approval.
“Vale,” I breathe.
I want to tell him to step back and to give me a moment to collect myself, but revealing the truth feels like surrender.
Why am I so weak-willed around him? Why does every inch of me tilt towards him like the ocean does the moon?
I hate that the idea of him being with Mercy, in truth, sickens me even though I was the one to suggest it.
Our bodies are pressed together. His leg is wedged between mine. The rough fabric of his pants is scraping my inner thigh.
My heart races in fear.
“I hate you,” I blurt.
“I want you,” Ender responds.
My eyes widen. He’s closer than before, his mouth dancing inches away from mine.
Our breaths tangle, chests brushing with each ragged exhale.
His palm reaches for my cheek, and a small tremble races through his fingertips.
He squeezes his eyes shut for one long second, as if touching me physically hurts him.
A knock sounds on the door.
“I’m here to collect one Lady Warrick,” Knox says, snickering at his own joke.
Ender steps away so abruptly that it makes me reel. His fists are clenched tight, and regret flashes across his eyes.
It makes me feel small and foolish to see him so ashamed, like a little girl with a crush.
I swallow back the hurt and remind myself that Ender Vale is the regime’s strongest weapon. His ancestor built the very system that I abhor.
One day, Ender will lead the Continent. He will be the face of the regime, spreading the mutated rot that devours our world.
The Commons will continue to be persecuted for every little crime, the High Justice will turn a blind eye, and the Gifted will be rewarded for merely existing. This cycle of wickedness will continue.
I have to remember that we are on two opposing sides of the war, and one day we will have to face each other. And only one of us will survive.