“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 brushingwith 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.
chapter
thirty-seven
Haven
There is going to be a test today.
Our third test.
The anxious energy is contagious, knees bounce, wan faces glance around, anticipating the arrival of our tormentor. Ender is slowly cutting our numbers down with each month that passes. We’ve gone from ten to six.
There is a single metal chair in the center of the drill hall, placed ominously under the hanging light. It isn’t a good sign that a medic and an aide are lingering by the wall, prepared to treat whoever survives this ordeal.
My boots tap a nervous rhythm on the floor.
The door opens, and Ender arrives.
A hush fills the room.
Rigel’s name is called first by Orion, who holds a clipboard.
