Grief and fear had risen like a tide, but next to them burned a budding flame of fury. It blazed brightly now, right beside my anguish. With my freedom gone, the NAO had takeneverythingfrom me, and the harrowing need for vengeance wrenched hard inside. I wanted them dismantled. Demolished. Dead.
I wanted to watch them suffer.
But instead, there I was, locked in their prison, suffering forthem. I’d continue to lose, and they’d continue to win until I had nothing left, not even my life.
After a long time—long enough that the bleeding finally slowed—the large metal door opened, and several knife-wielding Hunters filtered in. One of them shouted orders for us to arrange ourselves in a line. I forced myself off the ground, little prints and puddles of red marking my position. Blood had soaked through my dress and the ends of my hair, dyeing my legs, caking in the creases of my ankles.
It was disgusting, but more than that, it was horrific, and Lucas had never taken the sight of my spilled blood well.
The bars slid open, and we marched through the bleak facility into another large, windowless room. A single desk stood at one end, but it was otherwise empty. The men spread us into rows, then took their positions at the room’s periphery. Scarlet stained the ground at my bare feet.
I almost cried when Luke’s familiar voice echoed through the room. He sat at the desk, his gaze on the papers strewn across it.
“Welcome. In accordance with the Unity Protection Directive, you are hereby informed that your case has been reviewed, and your evaluation and sentencing today will bedeemed lawful and final.” He took a sip from his mug and continued with his memorized speech in a droning voice. “No appeals will be made. You have been granted the rights afforded to you under the National Stability Act. You will now receive your sentence, and any resistance will be interpreted as an admission of guilt and met with immediate force.”
A beat of silence passed. Not a single soul breathed.
Lucas set his mug down. “Take the men to the Stability bloc.”
A round of gasps and sniffles followed.
“None for execution?” a soldier asked.
“Not today.” Lucas stood from his seat behind the desk, eyes still scanning the paper in his hand. As he did, another door opened, and Jack Miller walked in, moving to stand at attention behind Lucas’s desk.
He winked at me.
My heart pounded, and shivers wracked my body. The male prisoners shuffled from the room, leaving twenty women. When Lucas finally lifted his eyes, he assessed the first row of prisoners.
He looked both terrible and terrifying. Like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days. Like he didn’t care one way or another what happened to the people in this room.
Inhuman. That was how he looked.
My empty stomach cramped, and my gaze fell to the floor, unable to watch.
His slow footsteps reverberated across the tiles, then paused. An awkward stretch of silence passed.
“Why is that one standing in blood?” he asked.
“That would be my doing,” Miller said, pride threading his voice.
“Ah. You brought her? Is that why you’re here today, Jackie?” Lucas asked, entirely calm. “Want to see what your prize fetches at auction?”
Miller grinned. “Curious where she ends up, that’s all. I have a preference.”
My eyes squeezed shut. Sickened by the images of what might happen to me, I wanted to scream. Would Lucas blow his cover? Get himself killed? Get usbothkilled?
The searing throb in my back ratcheted up as his footsteps drew near. When he stopped in front of me, the room stilled.
His voice caressed my skin. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
I lifted my head, and tears fell out of my control. His face was as cold as I’d expected, but a whirlwind came to life in his eyes as soon as my gaze met his. Disbelief and dread and shock warred within the blue-green.
He exhaled a slow breath. “There you are.”
The words were so innocuous, but they gouged deep crevices into my heart and left them bleeding.
He’d been looking for me.
