“Better than being strangled in my sleep.” I let a soft laugh slip and roll to my side so I don’t have to look at him.
“Can you please just sleep up here so I don’t feel like an arse?” When I don’t respond, he goes on. “I’ll pick you up if I have to.” He moves to bend down and scoop me up.
Oh my God.
I sit up and glare at his dim figure. “I’d rather eat dirt. Now shut up. You’re going to wake someone up.”
It’s pitch-black, but nothing could keep me from seeing that grin pull at the corner of his lips. I don’t know what he finds so amusing about me. My brows knit together at the thought.
“Then eat dirt tomorrow, just don’t sleep on the hard floor. You’ll have enough of that in the trials.” He pats the mattress. I clench my jaw, losing the will to fight his offer as I consider how much my body aches already.
With brief consideration, I settle on grabbing my blanket and pillow and lying down at the very edge of the bed. It’s a twin,so there’s no spare room for two full-grown adults. One being a giant.
We’re smashed together, his front to my back.
I close my eyes and try to pretend this isn’t happening. Try to pretend that I don’t feel the hard expanse of his chest warming my back. He scoots in roughly, hand on my hip and pulling me close as if he doesn’t care that we’re flush against one another. A small squeak escapes my lips that I’m sure at least twenty people hear.
“You’re welcome,” he chides. I feel the warmth of his breath on the side of my neck, his brawny arm slouched over my stomach.
Only a few weeks—I remind myself—until I most likely die in the trials.The thought makes me feel sick.
Suddenly, his warm body and the soft bed don’t seem so bad.
6
CAMERON
Wakingup before four a.m. to take pills is difficult this morning. One, because I woke up with Emery’s arms wrapped around my chest and her cheek pressed against my shoulder. Two, because I really didn’t want to lose the moment. It was odd because this is something I don’t normally particularly enjoy. Comfort.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, hating that I’m here again in the Under. It’s been almost seven years now, yet it feels like it’s hardly been a day since I left this awful place. Memories of the faces I once knew during my time down here flash through my mind.
I don’t want to remember them.All the people I grew to know in the Under…none of them made it out with me. I scoff and shake my head. Why do they even tell us to make friends before the trials? False alliances that will fall apart the moment the trials begin. The Dark Forces truly are a testament of the evil that lives within us.
I throw back the last two pills and swallow them, letting the empty plastic bottle drop into the sink.
At least Adams hasn’t changed. It was good to see that he’s made a name for himself down here. Though I bet it eats him upinside that someone as fucked-up as me gets to be on a squad while he’s trapped in this never-ending cycle of carnage. You’d have to be one tough son of a bitch to endure that.
A direct knock comes from the bathroom entrance. My eyes slide lazily toward the door, expecting Nolan because he knows about my four a.m. fix problem, but I’m surprised when Lieutenant Erik steps in.
My body physically responds to his presence—heart rate spiking and my stomach turning as I recall his knife in my eye. I couldn’t feel the pain, but I felt the pressure behind it, the swelling of my flesh and inability to see for days. He’s the only man on earth who could kill me in a one-on-one fight. He knows all my techniques, all my flaws.
I stand swiftly.
“Lieutenant.” I salute him and stand at attention. Erik doesn’t like formalities when it’s just us. He’s like a father to me, one that I never had. But I always insist on being formal, it feels like the only thing I can do right when everything else I do fails him.
He’s the strictest of the four squads, being the only lieutenant still active on missions since our sergeant died in action a few months back, but he’s also the most patient. I think Sergeant Jenkins on Riøt would’ve iced me a long time ago if I was on his squad. Rumor has it that he’s ruthless for being as young as he is. Many of us have never met him, and honestly, I don’t want to.
“At ease,” Erik mutters as he looks around the communal bathroom. His eyes lock on the empty pill bottle in the sink. “I see you’re still choosing to commit to this slow death,” he says in a monotone voice.
I respect that he’s so hard to read. It keeps me on my toes. But deep down, I know he cares about his men more than he lets on. He doesn’t have to check in on us, but he normally does. Ithink he’s the only officer who’s managed to keep a sliver of his empathy for others, not that he’d ever admit it.
He’s been giving me a hard time about the pills since I started taking them. Granted, he’s been able to watch my mind unravel over the years. I wonder how far I’ve fallen from the man he once knew. I think he allows me to continue taking them because it’s the only real value I have in the general’s eyes. Nolan fucking hates my guts.
“I’m going to get the injections too. General Nolan has a new poison scheduled for this morning,” I say sardonically as I toss him the empty black bottle.
Erik catches it and lowers his hand to his side, unfazed. “Without my approval?”
I shrug, annoyed that he’s pretending like he’ll ever actually deny new test drugs. “General Nolan offered and I accepted. You’ve already thrown me back into the Under, so I don’t see why it matters to you. I know we don’t have time for a field bonding training with Emery, but you still could’ve let me know you booked us for the level black mission in?—”
