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

  But that moment of time quickly became bone-chilling dread. Faster than I could track, Ryker twisted his body. The arrow soared skyward and vanished into the midday sun.

  I gaped in disbelief. Ryker’s jaw dropped, too, mirroring mine.

  “You shot at me.” The statement almost sounded like a question. Either way, I didn’t respond. I couldn’t feel my tongue. He took a slow step down the hill, but I was still too shocked to react. To realize I’d just lost my window of escape. He lunged. With speed, trajectory, and superior weight on his side, I was screwed. We collided, skidding and rolling in the snow several feet before he pinned me beneath him.

  My least favorite position. So I executed my favorite move. I kneed him in the groin.

  As he grunted, I shoved him off me, then sprang to my feet. He did too, despite his slightly bent frame. He glared and slipped a hand inside his pants pocket. Alarm bells clanged through my skull, but I was fixated on one thing. Escape. Escape. Escape. I whipped my bow staff in an arc and struck his cheek. He tumbled backward.

  I turned and flew down the hill, tripping more than once. Get away, get away. I wouldn’t be kidnapped and imprisoned, ripped from everything I knew all over again. Asher. Iris. Freedom. And yes, my traitorous heart cried, even Bren. If Ryker dragged me to his clan, chances were I’d never see their faces again. Never feel their touch. Hear their voices.

  “Stop!”

  There was an extra dense patch of trees ahead just off the road. If I left the trail and kept up the pace, maybe I could—

  A rod of fire streaked down my neck and spine. I screamed as I lost my footing and pitched headfirst toward the ground. My arms shot out, breaking my fall, and I quickly tucked into a roll. The entire time, my body trembled and jerked as electricity pumped through me. The pain in my skull intensified until black spotted my vision.

  Snow crunched nearby. The agony switched off.

  Before I could collect myself, hands grasped my bow and tore it away. My wrists smarted as they were forced together. I blinked to clear my sight and Ryker’s irate face came into view. He wasn’t looking at me but at my wrists as he wound something around them. My breath hitched. He was binding my hands together.

  I wrenched my arms out of his grip. Lightning quick, his nose was inches from mine. A growl rumbled in his throat. “Don’t. You want me to shock you again? I will. Gladly.”

  At my silence, he unsheathed my daggers and tucked them out of reach, then resumed securing my restraints. I noted a shallow cut across his right cheek. I should have struck harder. “Why are you doing this?” I hissed, then clenched my jaw as a fresh jolt of pain cleaved my brain. The headache was back.

  “You’re a flight risk and apparently have a death wish. You’re giving me no choice but to protect you from yourself.”

  “What? Myself? You’re the one kidnapping me!” My voice had risen but I didn’t care anymore. Better that a wild beast find and eat me than get carted away to another city ruled by a madman.

  “Kidnap? Are you insane?”

  “Yes, I’m the crazy one. Why would anyone want their freedom, right? Now, where are you taking me?” Maybe he didn’t know about my hidden pants pocket currently concealing a knife. I could stab him in the back. Seemed fair, considering.

  “I’m taking you to Bren, remember?” He pulled back, eyeing me like an extra limb had sprouted from my forehead. At least he didn’t look ready to murder me anymore. “I’ll ask again: what’s gotten into you?”

  I struggled into a sitting position, and when he didn’t stop me, lurched to a stand. He followed suit, casually dusting snow off his pants. Yet I knew, by the taught line of his shoulders, that he was anything but relaxed. “I’m not stupid, Ryker. You’re from the Recruiter Clan. They kidnap. It’s what they do. Does Renold know what you’re up to?”

  Suddenly, nausea burned in my gut as another puzzle piece clicked into place. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re Renold’s eyes and ears. You told him about my weaknesses. About my fear of beasts. About how close Bren and I had become.” Everything made sense now. The way he’d lurk nearby, materializing out of the shadows. He had been watching me. The desire to scratch out his eyes and feed them to the birds sizzled through my veins.

  He could have done any number of things, but laughing definitely hadn’t crossed my mind. “Yes, that was my duty. Keeper, remember? Even before the Trials, I was appointed to look after you. As for the Recruiter Clan, do you think I would have killed those clan members if I were still one of them? Your problem is that you don’t think before you act.” Reaching down, he picked up my bow and slung it over his shoulder. “You won’t be needing this anymore. Oh, and the next time you raise a finger against me, I’m chopping it off.”

  From that moment on, I refused to speak to him. We traveled for hours, sometimes on the road, sometimes taking shortcuts through the woods. Always upward. Without the use of my arms, I stumbled and fell often. Ryker never once looked back. I hated him. On my hate scale, he ranked somewhere between Renold and Lars. If he kept this up, he’d pass Renold in no time.

  Dusk came early, a warning sign that another storm was approaching. We set up camp after I tripped over a rock and almost bashed my head in. Ryker grumbled about my lack of coordination and poor eyesight, but I didn’t snark back. I simply popped open my tent—not an easy feat with your hands tied—then shut out the world.

  “Lune. Wake up.”

  My brows furrowed. I was about to bark at Ryker to go away, but the distinctly feminine voice had my eyes opening wide. Who . . . ?

  “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

  My exhaustion vanished and I bolted upright. “Catanna,” I breathed. My old nemesis. The girl I’d wanted to befriend who had chosen to hate me instead. A shudder shook my shoulders. She only came to me when I was at my weakest. How had she found me? Something wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be here. “Where are you?”

  “Come and see.”

  Her falsely sweet words drifted on a wind I couldn’t feel. As I exited the tent and steadied myself on a large boulder, I realized I couldn’t feel anything, not even my own body. A shadow moved in my peripheral and I changed course, trailing a patch of fog that surrounded a dark shape. Catanna.

  “This way,” she whispered, her features bending and morphing, never solid. Never whole.

  I followed. She may have tried to kill me more than once, but her company was preferable to Ryker’s. I waited for the stirring in my gut, my innate warning system. I felt fine though. She wasn’t a danger to me. “How did you escape Tatum City, Catanna?”

  Her laugh was friendly, but I knew better. “I should have listened to you, Princess. You got exactly what you wanted. Freedom.”

  “But . . . but I didn’t. I’m not free. It looks like you are though. How?”

  She turned toward me—at least I think she did. The fog still hid her from view. “I’ll show you. Just a little farther now. Come.” Her form silently swirled, drifting past trees and jutting rock shelfs. We climbed. I slipped more than once, maybe even injuring myself, but the possibility of freedom kept me going. It was worth the pain.

  At last, after what felt like hours of scaling rocks and tree roots, she stopped. Her silhouette shifted, pulling aside fog wisps until a narrow path formed. “Come here.” My feet obediently carried me forward, pausing just shy of the fog. “You want to know how I gained my freedom?”

  I nodded. My heart thumped against my ribs in anticipation.

  She smiled. I couldn’t see her face, but somehow, I knew that she did. “Will you do what it takes? Anything?”

  Air caught in my throat. She had asked me that once before. Would I do anything to be free? Would I kill again, on purpose this time? I swallowed the lump of guilt threatening to choke me. “What do I need to do?”

  The shroud that was Catanna receded, revealing a dark, trickling stream. Sound returned. Thundered in my ears. Why was the water so loud? My body moved, responding to a silent command.
My boots sunk calf deep into the water that rushed faster than I’d first anticipated. I expected it to be cold. But there was nothing. No feeling.

  I stepped to the edge. The edge of what? My captivity? Catanna was behind me now, cutting off my retreat, forcing me to face my fate. I raised my chin. Show no fear. I am not weak.

  “There’s only one way to be free,” Catanna whispered in my ear. I leaned forward, away from her. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t like people at my back. As my foot inched past the edge, seeking purchase in the stream bed, she gave me her answer: “Death.”

  I gasped and jerked awake. Cold punched my body. After wildly glancing around, I had one unbearably long second to realize that I was teetering over the lip of a waterfall. Then I swayed, thrown off balance as one of my legs dangled over empty air. I instinctively tried to pinwheel my arms and correct my precarious position, but they strained fruitlessly, refusing to spread wide. I looked down. My wrists were still bound together.

  All it took was a small gust of wind and I knew it was over. A scream lodged in my throat as I tipped forward and plummeted to the inky darkness below.

  Water had been a comfort to me for as long as I could remember. But, once again, Catanna was trying to turn my strengths into weakness. Even in my dreams, she knew how best to hurt me.

  Not this time.

  As the life leached out of my body, at least I was wrapped in water’s familiar embrace. If only waking nightmares weren’t my achilles heel. I had been able to control them while locked inside a room at night, but out in the wilderness, I was vulnerable.

  Reactive.

  I hated that word.

  “Lune, wake up.”

  The world tilted. I fought to remain where I was, the spot peaceful somehow, but my body was numb to the bone. “Go . . . ‘way, Cat—anna.” The words chattered out of me, breathy and weak. Not the strong ending I was going for. “Y-you . . . can’t w-win.”

  “You’re certifiably insane,” a male voice muttered.

  I knew that unpleasant timbre. It belonged to the one human I never wanted to speak to ever again. “No,” I groaned aloud, willing my legs to propel me away from Ryker. In the state I was in, he’d probably trigger the chip in my neck as a mercy killing, and I didn’t want to go out that way. “L-leave me.”

  “I was right,” he said with a grunt as he heaved me into his arms. The water relinquished its embrace and I bit back a whimper. “You really do have a death wish.”

  A shiver racked my body from head to toe as the chill night air hit me full force. “S-stars. L-let me go.”

  “Good. You’re still shivering. That means you have a fighting chance at surviving this.”

  I moaned my protest, wanting to be left in peace where I could think about Catanna’s words. What if death was the only way to be free? Maybe if I stopped fighting the inevitable, I’d get what I always wanted. No one would even miss me. I had pushed Bren away, had left Iris to fend for herself, had robbed Asher of the extra food supply his family desperately needed. Had—had whipped Freedom and betrayed her trust. Had disobeyed my mum who’d probably forgotten all about me by now.

  Blackness crowded my guilt-laden thoughts, numbing the pain and sorrow and regret. But the thought of giving up, after all these years, weighed heavily on me. As much as I wanted to sometimes, I didn’t think I could, like my very DNA was formed of stubborn determination. Even now, as the last of my strength trickled out of me . . .

  “Lune, wake up! You’re stronger than this. Hypothermia isn’t going to be the death of you.”

  I whimpered as something struck my cheek.

  “You feel that? Good. Stay awake, you hear me?”

  “D-did you just s-slap m-me?”

  “Yes.”

  I cracked my eyes open so they could shoot beams of fire at Ryker’s stupid face, but he wasn’t above me. In fact, I wasn’t in his arms anymore. When had that happened? The dark room spun and I squeezed my eyes shut again. Wait. Room? What was happening to me? Was I in another waking nightmare? Ryker was here, so that made sense.

  “Open your eyes or I’m going to slap you again, Lune.” Something clattered nearby and I obliged out of curiosity. In the near pitchblack, I thought I saw Ryker shoving wood into a fireplace. The sight of him made me want to unapologetically speak my mind.

  “You’re a rude, inconsiderate jerk.” The true statement slurred out of me, smooth as honey.

  “I know. I’ve never pretended otherwise.” He glanced at me, then swore softly. “You’ve stopped shivering.” He rifled in his pack and pulled out a box of matches. A moment later, the fireplace glowed orange. “You’ve moved onto the next stage of hypothermia.”

  That should have concerned me, but I just felt detached. Tired. Numb. “Sucks to be me.”

  “It’s going to suck even more when you find out what I have to do next.”

  “Go ahead,” I muttered. “Can’t feel anything anyway.”

  “Stay awake, Lune,” he snapped, and that’s when I decided my name sounded wrong coming from his lips.

  “You’re not allowed to say my name, Tattoo Boy.”

  His brows ticked upward. “Is that so, Lune?” Before I could retort, he unzipped his coat and shucked it off. His shirt quickly followed, then his boots and socks, leaving him only in pants as he looked down at me almost smugly. “Well, that’s too bad, Lune, because I’ll say your name a thousand more times if it’ll keep you awake.”

  My mouth dried at the sight of his sculpted chest. Before I could look away in embarrassment, my eyes snagged on another tattoo. Several of them, actually. The fire illuminated his skin just enough to reveal their locations but none of the details.

  Ryker cleared his throat. Heat should be flooding my cheeks after getting caught staring, but none came. “Your turn,” he said.

  My gaze flew to his. “But . . . No. No way.”

  He came at me, and I could do nothing—nothing—as he got to work peeling off my clothing now stiff with cold. Well, I could still speak. “I swear, if you don’t stop touching me—”

  “What? You’ll do what exactly?” He tugged my arms free of my coat, then started rolling up my shirt.

  “I’ll kill you. I’m going to kill you, Ryker.” Something stirred in my chest as he slid the shirt from my body, exposing more skin than I’d ever shown another. Only a black bra and bear tooth necklace kept my upper body from complete nakedness. I knew what I was feeling then. Panic. I gasped for breath, the sound weak and shallow.

  At the noise, he paused with his fingers inches away from my waist. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I looked up to find him studying me carefully. His voice, though still gruff, softened. “I’m trying to save you, and this is the only way I know how.”

  I couldn’t make sense of his expression and didn’t bother trying. In that moment though, I knew he was asking for permission. A part of me didn’t want to give it, but the rare show of open emotion in those unsettling eyes had me rethinking my stubbornness. And then the craziest thing happened. I nodded.

  I’m going to regret this.

  His fingers resumed their course, unbuttoning my pants and pulling the soaked material from my frozen legs. I could barely feel any of it. Just a whisper of touch. The room darkened as he unrolled something—a sleeping bag. I knew my body was being tucked inside, knew he wedged his body in with mine, but my thoughts scattered, drifted to the edge of consciousness.

  “Lune, stay with me.”

  “Can’t,” I mumbled. Sleep dragged my eyelids shut, filling my bones with lead.

  The last thing I heard was my name spoken again and again . . .

  Warmth.

  Everywhere I touched.

  I could feel my toes again. My legs. My arms. My nose, which was currently pressed against something soft and deliciously warm. I breathed in deep. A smoky, earthen scent assailed me. Rich and heavy, but not unpleasant. I ran my fingers over the smooth surface my cheek rested on. Not a blanket then. It was too warm, too firm yet sup
ple. Too . . .

  My eyes snapped open. Oh stars. Ryker. I was sleeping on Ryker. I was petting his chest! What was wrong with me? I must have lost my mind. There was no other explanation. Mortification unlike anything I’d felt before burned its way up my neck and consumed my face.

  Escape. Escape!

  I shifted, slowly reeling in the wayward leg that had curled itself around Ryker’s. I bit my lip to keep from screaming in frustration. What had happened? Why were we—?

  “Don’t even think about running again.”

  At the voice so close to my ear, I jerked upright. Then I noticed my state of undress. And shrieked. “What in the—? How did—? Get out! Get out, get out!” I shoved him away from me, which didn’t really work since we were stuck inside a single-person sleeping bag. I continued to push and kick and shout at him until he eventually crawled out, taking his sweet time.

  I clutched the bag’s thick material to my chest, shaking with rage and . . . disgust. Yes, that was it. How dare he! Taking advantage of me in my—

  “You’re welcome.”

  I looked up at him sharply. “What, why?” I snapped. “I didn’t give you permission to—”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “What? No, I would never. I loathe you! What delusional part of your brain thinks you can—”

  “You almost died last night,” he interjected, crossing his arms over a very naked chest. “After you ran away in the dead of night without your supplies—which was really stupid, by the way—I found you half frozen in a river. A river. With your hands still bound. What were you thinking? I had to warm you up the fastest way I knew how.”

  My stomach bottomed out as memories swarmed me then, ones I immediately wanted to forget. How was I going to explain that I hadn’t been running away? That Catanna had . . . Nope. Ryker could think what he wanted. I wasn’t going to tell him about my nightmares. He already thought I was insane.

  Time for evasive tactics.

  “So, where are we exactly?”

  His jaw slackened. He shook his head, then turned and snatched his shirt off the floor. On his right shoulder blade, a large, intricate tattoo in shades of gray caught my eye. A rose surrounded by thorny vines. The rest of his back was a patchwork of scars, some long and thin like mine, others round and raised.