Why?
How many times can I ask myself that question before it makes sense? I chuckle. It will never make sense.
I whirl from the mirror. Every inch of my skin prickles and there’s a frantic pleading in my stomach, begging me to run. I don’t know what to do.
Maybe he’s waiting to gather more evidence, or he’s already reported me and they’re just building their case. Perhaps he’s toying with me, enjoying my fear before he strikes.
Or maybe he understands, a strange voice whispers. Mine, but not.
No. He couldn’t understand, and I cannot afford such hope. I have no allies here.
The bed creaks as I sit and find my notebook of lost things hidden beneath the mattress. Not my ideal choice, but where else could I put it? I flip the pages open, wanting—no,needing—to write anything to calm my head. I swear to the stars it’s going to explode if I don’t lower my blood pressure soon.
Footsteps pound in the corridor, freezing me mid-thought. Heavy, purposeful strides. Not the casual walk of recruits returning to their quarters. These footsteps belong to someone with authority, who’s thoroughly angry.
No, no, no!
The steps halt outside my door.
I can’t breathe.
For one stifling moment, there’s silence.
Then the door slams open with such force it crashes against the wall, a long crack appearing on its surface. I jerk back instinctively as Arayik storms in, a hurricane in human form.His entire body radiates death—mine—as his chest heaves with thunderous breaths.
He rams the door shut behind him, the lock engaging with a click that sounds a lot like I’ll never be leaving this room again.
“Commander,” I begin, forcing my voice steady, but he cuts me off with a sharp gesture.
“No.” The single word drips with venom.
His foreboding body advances toward me, and I retreat until my back hits the furthest wall. There’s nowhere left to go. My mind races through scenarios—I could duck under his arm, aim for his knee, maybe reach the door—but I know it’s futile. He outmatches me in every way.
“I’ve watched you,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “From the first day, something was wrong.”
My mouth goes dry. “I don’t know what you’re?—”
“Do. Not. Speak!” he roars, closing the distance between us in two swift strides.
Before I can react, his hand shoots out, fingers curling around the edge of my mask. With one violent motion, he rips it away from my face, the straps snapping with a sharp crack.
Cold air caresses my newly exposed skin. I gasp, the sudden vulnerability more shocking than the physical pain.
Arayik’s dark eyes widen, then narrow. “I knew it.” He stares at my face with undisguised hatred. “I fucking knew it.”
His hand moves with lightning speed, closing around my throat; he pulls me forward only to shove me back against the wall with such brutal force, I know I’ll have a concussion. My boots scrape against the floor as he lifts me, effectively severing my air. Panic floods my system, my hands flying up to claw at his forearm.
“You think you can fool us?” he snarls, his face inches frommine. “Pretend tobeone of us?” His grip tightens, and black spots dance at the edges of my vision. “You’ll die for this.”
I struggle against his hold, pushing at his arm with all my strength, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. His muscles stiffen—he’s using his power, making himself impossibly heavy, regardless that I couldn’t fight back anyway. My arms tremble from the strain of even trying to resist.
The room darkens and narrows to a tunnel, Arayik’s rage-twisted face the only thing I can see.
This is how I die, I think distantly. Not fighting for freedom, not changing the world. Just…erased. Another woman disappeared at the hands of the Syndicate’s machinery.
The thought ignites something in me—a desperate, burning refusal.
Then the door bursts open behind him.
