Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Text and cover design

  Copyright © 2019 Becky Moynihan

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. And resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Published by Broken Books

  www.beckymoynihan.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7327330-3-9

  ISBN-10: 1-7327330-3-1

  Cover design by Becky Moynihan

  Cover model by Neostock

  www.neo-stock.com

  To those with a dream:

  Anything is possible if you believe.

  I stopped counting after three hundred steps.

  Minutes ticked by, each holding the weight of an hour.

  The urge to catch one last glimpse of Tatum City tugged at me. I resisted, just barely. My eyes traveled instead to my current company. Broad shoulders, tree-trunk torso, and legs so much longer than mine. His moving frame prowled with a wild grace only the self-assured, or cocky, could manage. And underneath that tough exterior was an even tougher interior: impatient, calculating, competitive, ruthless . . .

  “Keep up,” Ryker grumbled. His startling blue and black eyes narrowed on mine before they jerked forward again. “We have a lot of ground to cover. Bren has a solid two days’ head start.”

  Rudeness was another quality of his.

  If my tongue would cooperate, I’d grace my companion with a witty reply. But with that first step into the outside world, anxiety had gripped me. For eleven years, I’d been enclosed by walls. Too long. I had only ever wanted to feel freedom on my skin again. Now, the thought of unrestricted access to the entire world—and the world having access to me—sent paralyzing fear through my limbs.

  I was out of my element, torn in two. My heart yearned to keep going while my brain reminded me of the dangers, of the safety the city offered. The city . . . safe? I held in a derisive snort.

  Still, I might have turned around and begged the guards to let me back inside if it weren't for the dark-haired man in front of me who had strode through the gate and into the unknown with unwavering confidence.

  I touched the twin daggers at my sides for the umpteenth time, casting a quick glance to the trees skirting the road. Any number of beasts could be in there, preparing to attack. Yet Ryker hadn’t drawn his weapons, so neither did I. Showing weakness was new to me. My muscles still tightened at the thought of another human seeing my flaws. My scars. With one exception. A certain big idiot with teasing, albeit piercing, gold eyes.

  Who are you, Brendan Bearon?

  I thought I’d known him. Just thinking of Bren’s large, gentle hands holding me close caused my heart to skip and my face to heat. I looked down, realizing I’d unconsciously pulled out the bear tooth necklace he’d given me. As a child, I’d been gravely wrong about him, then again as an adult. His mysterious dealings with Renold had cost me my freedom. Maybe my guardian had ordered Bren to toy with my affections, to screw up my one chance at winning Title of Choice. With an annoyed sigh, I shoved his image aside and hid the necklace once more.

  How could I know him when I barely knew myself?

  Then there was Ryker, another mystery. The only thing he and Bren had in common was their obsession with secrets. That and the Elite Trials. Both had wanted to win, but for what purpose? To become shallow, self-serving elitists? I had never found out, and now the reasons didn’t matter. We were all on the outside, traveling far away from Tatum City, the cage of lies.

  The city couldn't offer a better life, no matter what Supreme Elite Tatum said. Instead, it took. It grabbed the best parts of a person and tore them apart, leaving a greedy, bloodthirsty corpse behind. Those who didn’t conform, who openly opposed the rules, disappeared. To this day, I didn't know what happened to them. With Renold’s penchant for torture, I could imagine something painful.

  It’s all that remains of them, he’d taunted only hours ago after I’d opened the velvet box containing two severed thumbs.

  The simple seamstress and hairdresser, who I’d known for eleven years to be nothing but loyal, had paid the price for my one intentional act of rebellion. Which I now regretted. Did they suffer? My brain refused to dwell on the possibilities, denied that they were . . .

  A shiver raced down my spine, shaking my shoulders. I wouldn’t think of what had happened to them, especially when I was feeling halfway unhinged. I picked up the pace in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of my guardian and his sadistic ways. His control over me was stronger than ever now that he’d discovered another weakness of mine: my friends. If I didn’t finish this mission and return, he would punish those I cared about, maybe even kill them.

  I couldn't live with that, especially after reading Bren’s cryptic yet all-too-clear message.

  She is your sister.

  Iris.

  I should have seen it. The physical similarities. My gut hadn’t warned me. Now, she was alone in a swarm of trainees and trainers, some who had a vendetta against me. Lars, in particular. Maybe he’d start hazing her again without me or Bren there to protect her. I grimaced as the prickling sensation at the base of my neck urged me to look toward the city once more.

  But I didn’t give in. Not a single wall or cage stopped my forward progress. My mum was out here, waiting for me to find her. For a moment, I debated taking my freedom and abandoning my mission.

  And yet . . .

  Stars, what kind of person would I be if I left my sister in the hands of that monster?

  Deep in my brooding, I didn't realize Ryker had stopped until it was too late. I plowed into him. More like bounced off, actually. Ow. I gently touched the bridge of my nose where it had collided with the leather quiver strapped to his back. His head whipped around. “You really have a bad habit of running into me. For having won all three Trials, you're rather inept on your feet. How you survived is beyond me.”

  My jaw dropped and I blinked, slowly. Did he just call me a klutz? I sputtered out a laugh. “Well, that just goes to show how much you know. I didn't win all three Trials. If I had, I’d be far away from here by now.” Oops. Maybe I should have
left out that last part.

  His eyes narrowed. “You did win. It was an unfair ruling.” My brows inched upward. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. Noticing my look, he fully faced me. His voice was little more than a growl as he said, “And before you get any funny ideas, I am loyal to Supreme Elite Tatum. You'd better be too if you know what's good for you.”

  When I didn't reply, he moved his gaze to the ground. He crouched, touching an indent in the snow-covered road.

  “What is it?” I squinted for a closer look.

  Ryker stood, glancing to the north and shaking his head. “It's our target’s footprint. He headed north, toward the old city.”

  I sighed. “Can we just agree on one thing? Our target is a person and he has a name—Bren. Let's use it from now on, okay?” He remained silent. Great. “Oh, and one more thing,” I continued. “Why did Renold want you with me on this mission?

  If he deviates from it, I want you to kill him, was the very last order given to me. Did Renold think me incapable of following through with my mission if Bren failed to follow his? Was Ryker meant to complete the job, to kill Bren, if I couldn’t?

  He started walking again, this time due north. My patience stretched thin, and I had to bite my tongue to keep a torrent of snarky words at bay. Finally, he said, “My orders are to track Bren and keep you alive. Apparently, Supreme Elite Tatum doesn't think you're capable of doing either on your own.”

  Even as I gaped at how accurate my guess had been, a growl formed in the back of my throat, nearly choking me.

  You’re pure reaction, Lune. It’s incredible.

  My jaw hardened as I tried to block out Renold’s parting words. Get a grip, idiot, you're stronger than this! Nobody can get a reaction out of you unless you let them. Renold couldn't be right about me. I wasn't reactive. I could control myself. Really. My blunt nails dug into my scar-roughened palms. I barely felt the pricks of pain.

  My shorter legs sped up until I drew even with Ryker. I tried not to glare as I replied, “If you recall, I beat you in the Rasa Rowe Trial. I think I'm quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  He snorted as if I’d said something childish. “You trained and competed in a controlled environment. Out here, there are no rules, no walls, no roof over your head to keep you dry. If the beasts don't get you, the people will; and if they don't finish you, nature will. It'll pick you apart, piece by piece, until only your ashes remain. You'll be begging me to return you to Tatum City by the end of the day.”

  His words both chilled my bones and heated my blood. He didn't know me at all. I snorted in return. “I give you permission to punch me in the face if you hear me begging to head back. I’ll follow through with this mission, and only then will I return. Can I count on you to do the same?”

  A grim smile formed on his lips. “You don't have to worry about me. I'll do what needs to be done.”

  Well, that wasn't ominous or anything.

  We passed the next few miles in silence, the light dusting of snow turning into a steady fall. Soon, the ground was completely covered in a thin white layer of fluff, erasing any sign of boot prints—to my eyes, anyway. Ryker kept up the pace, gaze straight ahead, unwavering in his northern path.

  How did he know where to go? I decided to ask. “How—?” He whipped a hand toward me, his fingers wrapping around my shoulder and digging in uncomfortably. My first reaction was to dislodge the threat. I grabbed his wrist and ducked underneath. He spun before I could jack up his arm behind him, and a second later, I found myself staring up at a cloud-filled sky, lungs burning as they tried and failed to suck in oxygen.

  Angry blue eyes hovered above me, blocking my view of the falling snow. “What was that?” he hissed, then jerked his head to the side, peering at the line of trees next to the road. “Never mind, we have bigger problems. We're being watched.”

  My heart fluttered as I flicked a glance at the dense woods. “By what?”

  “More like by whom. They've been following us since we left Tatum City, no doubt trying to decide if we hold anything of worth. If they don't relent soon, we’ll need to shake them off our trail or confront them.”

  I didn't know how he knew that people were following us, but my burning curiosity would have to wait. “I'd prefer we not confront them if it can be avoided. Do you know how many there are?”

  He paused, tilting his head like a dog. “At least two. Maybe three. Probably male. We have to get off this road, come on.” He didn't bother offering me a hand up, already making for the tree line east of the road. Rude. Just plain rude.

  My spine groaned as I stood, not happy with the way it had been slammed onto frozen ground. As I entered the dense woods, Ryker was nowhere to be seen. This teamwork thing was not going well. Doing my best to follow his fading footprints in the snow, I almost shrieked when a hand materialized out of thin air and pulled me behind a tree.

  I knocked the hand aside and grabbed the front of Ryker’s coat, jerking him toward me. “Don’t touch me,” I softly growled. “You might find yourself missing a limb next time you do.”

  He watched me coolly. “That makes two of us.” His eyes shifted to my fingers still gripping his coat. I released it. “But if I have to touch you to keep you alive, I will.”

  My lips pursed as I smothered my need to have the last word. Control. Control your impulses.

  Ticking his head in a follow me gesture, he slunk farther east, then crouched behind a fallen log. I joined him, unsure what the next move was. Several minutes dragged by. Nothing happened. I noticed the snow barely dusted the forest floor this far in. Pine needles and dead leaves covered the ground instead. Maybe our pursuers couldn't track us in here and had given up.

  I leaned toward Ryker. “I think we—”

  In the next instant, he exploded from our hiding position, his loaded bow aimed at a spot to the left of us. “Don't move,” he snarled at something I couldn't see. I squinted into the gloom created by the thick, towering trees. A shape slowly emerged—a man, hands raised to show he was unarmed.

  “Easy there, fella,” he said in a drawling accent. “I'm not here to hurt you. I couldn't help but notice you two came from the walled city. It's not often people leave there. I thought maybe you could tell me a little bit about what it's like in there, hmm? It's such a curiosity, you know.”

  I could see the man fully now. Maybe mid-thirties. It was hard to tell, what with the heavy beard masking his features. There was an odd twinkle in his murky brown eyes. I didn’t trust him. Apparently, Ryker didn't either, his fingers tightening on the bow. His voice was deep and gritty as he slowly ground out, “I said don't move.”

  The man sighed, lowering his hands, then flicked a glance over Ryker’s shoulder. Warning bells rang in my head a second before my companion violently shoved me. I fell, my skull bouncing off the ground before I could catch myself. Bright lights obscured my vision but I managed to roll over, pulling a throwing knife from my belt in the process. The bearded man was closing in fast, a hunter’s knife in his grimy hand, the tip aimed for Ryker's unprotected back.

  I didn't hesitate to throw my knife. The blade glinted through the air before sinking into the man’s thigh. He screamed and clutched his leg as he toppled over. I swiveled, looking for more threats. Behind me was another man, crumpled in a heap with an arrow sticking out of his chest. I wrenched my gaze away, fighting a ball of nausea in my gut.

  Ryker advanced on the injured bearded man, an arrow aimed at his head. I scrambled to my feet, unsure if I wanted to interfere. Would he kill him? One look at Ryker’s murderous expression and I knew he would. I carefully laid a hand on his arm.

  “Don't,” I warned.

  He shook off my touch. Addressing the man, he asked, “Are there more of you?”

  The man sneered, his only reply a spray of spittle. Thank the stars, it didn't reach us. Ryker lunged and stomped on the man’s ankle. Bone cracked and he shrieked. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself not to say anything. “I'l
l ask you one more time,” Ryker said, his voice smooth, like the calm before a storm. “Are there others?”

  “No!” the man spat, panting in agony. His eyes shifted to the right.

  “He's lying. There are more.” I inspected our surroundings again. That's when I saw the shiny glint of metal spiraling through the air, straight for my head. I jerked out of its path, but not before steel sliced into my neck. I swiped at the cut and sticky wetness coated my fingers. My hand came away red with blood.

  Injured already? Ugh.

  Ryker pivoted, searching for my attacker. We saw him at the same time. My eyes widened as Ryker prepared to shoot.

  “No!” I grabbed for his wrist and foiled his aim. The arrow sailed harmlessly through the woods. I watched as my attacker took off, quickly disappearing from sight. A deep growl rumbled beside me and I froze, goosebumps pricking my skin. I peered into blazing pale blue eyes.

  I willed my hand to stop trembling as I pointed a finger at Ryker. “First, you sound like a dog when you do that. Second, he was just a boy, barely a teenager. He didn't deserve to die.”

  He batted my finger away and stepped into my personal space. Warm breath hit my cheek as he snapped, “He almost killed you. Ever heard of self-preservation? If you don't stick up for yourself in this world, you'll be buried and forgotten before you know what’s hit you.”

  I refused to back down, giving him a glare of my own. “I think your memory may be failing you. Just two weeks ago, I survived all three Trials. I even killed.” I held in a wince at that, pushing back the guilt threatening to pull me under. “But where does it stop? Should we keep killing until humanity’s wiped from this planet?”

  He stepped back. “Sometimes I think this world would be a better place without us humans in it.”

  I blinked, weighing his words. Maybe he was right, but that wasn't the solution.

  We both spun at a shuffling noise behind us. The bearded man was trying to sneak away, half crawling, dragging his wounded leg behind him. “Stop,” Ryker barked, aiming an arrow at his chest.