Part 2Distant Shores

The man entered my room and stopped at the foot of my bed.

I recognized him. His name was Jax. The son of the Citadel's former Commander. The coldest, most ruthless Enforcer. Rumor had it he’d killed his own parents when he was just ten.

The first time I saw him, I was struck by his looks. The next second, the barrel of his gun was pressed against my forehead. Vivian and I had been at an amusement park when a sinkhole opened up beneath us. I was still wearing my gray-blue contacts from that day.

Gray-blue eyes. The mark of the Infected.

Jax had mistaken me for one of them. The misunderstanding was cleared up, but he never stopped despising me. Hated me for being a human who would decorate her eyes in the color of the enemy. Yet, the Citadel had assigned him to be our guardian. He was a man of absolute discipline; he followed his orders, even if it meant protecting someone he loathed.

The feeling was mutual. Plenty of people in the Citadel hated him. They called the Enforcers the dogs of the elite, and Jax was the most loyal, most vicious of the pack.

He stood there, a silent silhouette. I heard the metallic click as he unbuckled his belt.

I was right. He was here for the Pairing.

I dropped the pretense of sleep and sat up, pressing the small knife I'd hidden to my throat. "Get out," I said, my voice low and steady. "Or I'll die right in front of you."

I had sharpened the blade myself. My hand trembled slightly, and the edge bit into my skin. A warm trickle of blood traced a path down my neck.

I was gambling. Gambling that he couldn't, and wouldn't, let me die.

It worked. Jax froze. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, as if I wasn't supposed to be awake.

The milk. I hadn't drunk my milk. Vivian, not wanting it to go to waste, had drunk mine too. That's why she was already sound asleep. They had drugged us. And right now, another man was in her room.

"I said get out," I repeated, pressing the knife harder. "Take all of them with you."

But in a blur of motion, he snatched the knife from my hand and clamped his other hand over my mouth. I struggled, but it was useless. For the first time, I understood the raw, hopeless disparity in strength between a man and a woman, especially a man like him—the most skilled fighter in the Citadel.

Tears of rage and despair streamed down my face. I would not be forcibly bred. I bit down on his hand, hard. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

He didn't even flinch. But he didn't move to hurt me, either.

A voice crackled from his comms unit. "Major Jax, what's your status?"

He glanced at me. "She's awake. Uncooperative. Attempted self-harm."

"Acknowledged," the voice replied. "Abort the mission for now. Don't let her hurt herself."

"Understood," Jax said.

He released me. I shoved him away and scrambled off the bed, intending to run to Vivian's room. But he caught me, throwing me back onto the mattress.

I thought he was going to defy his orders. "What," I sneered, "is the Commander's dog going to disobey his master now?"

He looked down at me, his eyes hooded. Without a word, he unbuckled his belt, but this time he used it to tie my hands to the headboard. He gagged me with a strip of cloth, then pulled a chair over and sat facing me.