Chapter 21
As I make my way to the locker room to peel off my scrubs from another day of work, I glance at the sliding glass doors of the Healing Center.
The rays of the setting sun rebound off the glass, creating a prism of red and yellow hues that splatters across the desk where the information clerk sits. Slowly, the sun will settle over the Wall like it’s being pierced by the sharp spikes before disappearing from view at dusk.
Dusk.
Which will then turn to nightfall. And eventually, midnight.
When another blood moon will rise.
I’ve never been so nervous for a Choosing before.
For the first time since my mom disappeared from the balconies, I’m not anxious to be Chosen, but anxious to get this over with.
A tense sort of restlessness buzzes in my bones at the thought of what I’m planning to do afterward—sneak into the catacombs and finally ascend that ancient staircase that leads up to the dungeon of the Blood Moon Palace.
I hurry on, but just as I swing open the door of the locker room, a man crashes into me.
“Excuse me,” I rush out softly, but when I turn my head in his direction to apologize, he only glares at me with a dark expression—the same way he glared at Gaia and me for simply talking.
I resist the urge to snarl at him. All these nights with Lucan being in my head must be rubbing off on me. Instead, I move out of his way and let him slink past me with a huff.
Sitting down on the cold bench, I slip off my shoes first.
When I straighten, a warm hand curves around my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
I crane my neck up to see Gaia with that look of motherly concern etched into the lines of her forehead.
We’ve been polite the last few months. No, formal would be more appropriate.
The good evenings more forced, the have a good shifts more airy.
We’ve changed into our scrubs without a word.
We’ve passed off patients’ charts without making eye contact.
But now it seems Gaia wants to break the pattern we’ve found ourselves stuck in the last few months.
“What do you mean?” I ask, playing with the fabric of my pants.
Her eyes track the movements of my fidgeting fingertips. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, giving her my best smile.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she says as I stand to pull my scrubs over my head.
“Worried?”
“Losing Diggory,” she explains in a whisper. “Our… disagreement.”
My body loosens, a tension I didn’t realize was wound so tightly around my muscles softening—because I’ve missed her. That doesn’t stop my nerves from shooting through my limbs, though.
“We weren’t fighting,” I say, keeping my voice soft. “I asked you for something, you said no. That’s okay, Gaia. I wouldn’t want you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
Her lips part as she sucks in a shaky breath. “I don’t know. It seemed bigger than that?” It comes out like a question. Like she’s unsure what really happened between us. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t mean to be harsh. I know you were struggling.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I reply, suddenly blinking back tears. Everything in me wishes I could hug her. Instead, I wave her off with a flick of my wrist, trying to downplay the moment. “And the sentry didn’t seem to have a big issue with it.”
Gaia’s eyes go wide, her tone dropping to a low hiss. “They visited you too?”
My heart stops pumping. My throat narrows. I can’t swallow down the sand flooding my mouth. Nothing came from Rosalyn’s visit, but… what are the odds our stories were the same? It was over a patient, I had told the sentry—a lie. We disagreed on whether she should be released or not.
“What did you tell them?” I ask, panic rising in my chest, bursting painfully from between my ribs.
Gaia’s eyebrows pinch together. “The truth, of course. That you wanted to find out where Diggory’s partner lives. So you could console her, I told them.”
My eyes search her face. Her eyes search my face.
Gaia’s body tenses. “Well—” she stutters. “Right?”
“Right,” I echo, too high-pitched to my own ears.
Her shoulders drop with relief, her entire body relaxing as she stands to pull on her scrubs over her undergarments.
“They understood how dedicated of a healer you are, and it’s only a normal emotion to want to console a patient’s partner after what happened, make sure they’re okay.
” She turns to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “It’s admirable, I think.”
My tongue is swollen and heavy, suddenly too big for my mouth. Our stories definitely didn’t line up, so why haven’t the Guardians done anything? Why did the sentry act like everything was fine?
It’s been months. Months of me breaking curfew and sneaking through tunnels without getting caught. Surely, somebody should have noticed my transgressions by now?
I look up at Gaia again. The tears behind my eyes make my nose sting, but I inhale deeply to keep them at bay. The concern that she’s said the wrong thing deepens in her eyes, but I plaster on a shaky smile to assure her. “Thanks, Gaia. I mean it.”
After pinning her purple badge onto her clean scrubs, she bends to squeeze my hand and her good-natured tone reappears. “Well, have a good night. I can’t wait to hear all about the Choosing in the morning—I’ve been designated to stay behind this time.”
She shoots me a wink, like we’re past this rut we’ve found ourselves in. And we are. She’s one of the only friends I’ve ever known.
I just wish we hadn’t had this conversation now, right before I’m about to break into the Blood Moon Palace.
Rising to my feet, my nerves betray me.
The anxiety in my stomach unravels like a ball of yarn, and I rush over to the corner of the locker room to heave into the trash can.
After walking home on autopilot and eating dinner with Malcolm in a haze, I’m now staring at the off-white ceiling of our joint bedroom.
Fully clothed, we’re both under the blanket pulled up to our armpits and our hands crossed over our chests.
My eyes trace a line of something that ripples underneath the paint.
“Malcolm,” I start unsteadily. But instantly, relief settles into my bones at the thought that I’m about to let it out. My earlier nerves are replaced with old and newly found anger. “You said I should tell you when my life could be in danger. Is that still true?”
Time slows. His legs shift under the covers.
Until finally, he nods. “I think so.”
“You think so?” I argue. “Or you know so? Because I don’t want—”
“I know so,” he says confidently, cutting me off. His face is open, but there’s a mix of fear lurking behind his gaze. “What’s wrong? Is your life in danger now?”
“I’ve… discovered some things about our lives—the Guardians,” I start slowly. “And I can’t ignore it any longer. I don’t know if I’ll be coming back to our housing unit after the Choosing tonight.”
Malcolm blinks once before blowing out a breath. “How can I convince you to not… do whatever it is you’re about to do?”
“You can’t.”
My resolve is fierce. No one else is going to swoop in and save us. We have to save ourselves. And if I die in the process, maybe I’ll change things for the ones who live.
“Okay, then,” he says, forcing another heavy breath from his lungs. A tense pause lingers between us until Malcolm closes his eyes. “I knew you were up to something.”
“You did?” I ask.
A hesitant smirk pulls one side of his face up. “Since when do you go to the Recreation Center to play backgammon?”
I snort, and that thought tickling the back of my mind rises to the top. “Since when have you been in love with Walter?”
“What? I—” he stutters, his eyes flying open. “I’m not.”
“It’s okay,” I insist softly, laying a hand on his arm where the hair is standing on end. My next words are more of a murmur to myself. “I’m certainly not one to judge who you’re attracted to. And maybe…”
Malcolm rolls onto his side, facing me. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe one day, things can be different. We wouldn’t have to hide it.”
His face falters, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper, even though the camera in the living room can’t pick up our already low voices. “What are you going to do, Saskia?”
Taking a deep breath, I slip my hand around his, squeeze tightly, and raise my eyes to his.
“If I’m not here in the morning, just know that I’m glad you were assigned as my partner.”
I close the door to my own bedroom and press my back against it.
Lucan’s howl cuts through the night.
All we can do is wait.
I’m a ball of buzzing energy, my nerves snapping with even the tiniest of my movements.
Another howl, longer this time, settles behind my belly button. The pooling heat calms and frightens me at the same time—because what I feel is longing. A need to be closer to him, a desire to feel that growl against my skin, have it vibrate down to my core.
I climb into my bed with the idea that it will relax me, distract my mind long enough to feel some relief from every emotion compounding on top of each other.
I need the relief.
My hand slips beneath the hem of my pants before pushing back the final layer. My breathing deepens. I close my eyes. And I just let the sound of Lucan’s howling wash over me.
The anxiety melts away. For several minutes, that pooling heat tightens and tightens… until I cry out in tandem with his howl.
I lie there, then, breathing in and out as the realization sinks in—that I just felt the best pleasure of my life, imagining that my hand actually belonged to the Monster.
Shit. I’m in so much trouble. If I can get through tonight, that is.
Throwing off my cover, I jump up and throw on my cloak, then re-pin my badge and slip on my shoes. Any second now, the loudspeakers will announce that it’s time for the Choosing. There’s no more time to wallow in nerves or think about this new… predicament.