“I can give you that,” he says, slowly walking towards me, not stopping until the two of us are dangerously close.

“Of course you can—but you won’t.”

“That’s because no one’s offered me the correct price yet.” He says it like this is a simple matter of haggling.

I throw my arms up. “You can’t expect the WUN to willingly cripple our future economy for you.”

The king eliminates the last bit of space between us and fingers a lock of my hair. “That’s not the price I was referring to.” Almost lackadaisically, his eyes move from my hair and land on my face.

And now I get it. I take a step back, then another. I furrow my eyebrows; I think I’m going to be sick. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Even if I believed that was a legitimate trade—which we both know it isn’t—no.”

“You could end this all now, and you refuse to agree to it?”

“You’re asking me to make a deal with the devil.”

“You and I both know you already signed your soul away a long time ago, Serenity.”

“Because of you and your stupid war. I already told you last night, you don’t get to have me.”

The king prowls towards me, closing the distance between us once more. “I’m not just talking about sex,” he says.

But sex would be included in the arrangement. “I’d rather die than do anything with you.”

“If it’s death you wish, we can arrange that.”

The king reaches out to touch my arm, and I slap his hand away. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” I’m shaking; this was never supposed to happen. I’m getting played by the king, and I don’t know how to get myself out of this situation.

King Lazuli sticks his hands in his pockets and leans in conspiratorially. “You know the thing about strategy? It takes knowing when to act and when to be patient.”

I take a good look at him. King Lazuli’s been waging this war for almost thirty years, yet he looks to be little older than thirty himself. I’ve seen footage of him shot, blown-up, and stabbed, yet he hasn’t died. He’s unnatural in more ways than one.

“If you try to force me into this plan of yours, I will find out your secrets,” I say, “and once I do, I will kill you.” I stare at him long enough for him to see the vehemence behind my words. And then I turn and walk away from the king and the sick tapestry that hangs along the walls of the room.

I’m almost to the door when he speaks. “I plan on making you love me before that happens.”

Chapter 8

Serenity

Three years ago I saw combat for the first time.

I was allowed to fight despite being underage. Many of us were. The war had raged on long enough that the military would take almost all willing and able-bodied soldiers—even underage ones, so long as they were over the age of fourteen and their guardian agreed to it. My father had consented—albeit, reluctantly—and so had Will’s.

Will and I, members of the same platoon, had been stationed in New York, near where New York City once stood. The two of us hunkered down outside the skeletons of former buildings, our breaths clouding in the chilly night air. Our battalion had reappropriated the ruins and turned them into makeshift barracks.

“We’re missing all the action,” Will complained, picking up a pebble and chucking it at an abandoned car across the street.

Because we were younger. Our military might recruit minors, but they tended to shelter them from action if they could.

Several minutes later one of the other members of our company whistled from a block away. “The king’s men are dropping out of the sky!”

I glanced above me and sure enough, the dim outline of parachutes obscured the patches of the sky. There looked to be dozens of them.

“Oh shit,” Will said.

My heart slammed inside my ribcage. We were being ambushed. I grabbed my mother’s necklace and kissed it for good luck. I’d killed before, but never under such treacherous circumstances.

Shots pinged in the distance—likely other soldiers from our company trying to shoot the king’s men out of the air. From what I could tell, it had no effect.

Will raised his weapon.

“Don’t shoot,” I said, staring up at the sky.

“Why not?” He lined up his gun’s sights.

“We don’t have enough bullets to waste.” Not when our targets were too far away to aim with accuracy.

“So you think we should wait?” He sounded incredulous.

“Mmhm.” My hands trembled.

Will shook his head but lowered his gun. “This better be a good idea, ’cause I feel like we’re missing a perfect opportunity.”

“Just wait for them to get within range.”

He huffed, his way of agreeing without conceding his point.

It took an agonizing five minutes for the enemy to get close enough to shoot. When a man managed to land on our block, Will and I jogged over to him as the soldier extricated himself from his harness.

“I got this one,” Will said, aiming his weapon.

I nodded next to him, my gun also trained on the enemy soldier.

Will hesitated, readjusted his grip, then hesitated some more.

“What are you waiting for?” I whispered.

“Nothing.”

I cast a look over at Will. His hands fidgeted, his eyes were wild.

He’d never killed a man. I’d assumed he had. We lived in the kind of world where violence was inevitable.