Page 53 of Reckless
“Beside me.”
Her eyes fly to mine. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” I ask innocently. “It’s not anything we haven’t done before.”
“And it’s not anything I plan on ever doing again,” she challenges.
“And why is that, Gray?” I sigh. “Worried you’ll like it too much?”
The sound she makes is a cross between a scoff and disgust. “You’re the one who should be worried. I just might strangle you in your sleep.” With that, she plops down on the closest bedroll, watching an Imperial use his Blazer ability to light a fire.
I let my eyes wander over her, wander over the tan skin, the fingers fidgeting with the ring on her thumb, the silver hair mirroring the moon above. Everything about her is so very familiar, so very deceiving. No power runs through the veins beneath that tan skin.No abilities guided by those fidgeting fingers. No Elite likeness in the silver strands of her hair.
And yet, she feels anything but Ordinary. I’ve been taught my whole life that the likes of her would be the ruin of Elites, but I’ve never felt anything stronger.
I move to sit beside her, combing a hand through my sandy hair. “Careful,” she mocks, “any closer and I’ll start weakening your powers.”
I throw her a glance. “That’s not how it works, and you know it.”
She laughs, harsh and hateful. “Please, enlighten me, then. I would love to hear how you think the Ordinaries will be the doom of all Elites.”
“If you’d continued to live in Ilya,” I sigh, “you would be. For more than one reason.” I turn to take her in, eyes skimming over the obvious disbelief in the crease between her brows. “Do you not know our history? Where we came from and why it is so important we remain Elite?”
I catch the quick roll of her eyes in the flickering firelight. “Of course I know Ilya’s history. I may not have gone to school, but my father made sure I wasn’t completely incompetent.”
“All right, then,” I say casually. “Tell me.”
She gives me a halfhearted scoff. “What, you want me to teachyouof Ilya’s history?”
“I want to make sure you know what you’re talking about. So”—I gesture for her to proceed—“go on.”
“This is ridiculous,” she huffs, fidgeting with the bedroll beneath her.
“It’s beginning to sound as though you don’t know—”
“Ilya was a weak kingdom,” she cuts in, annoyed to be entertaining me. “We always have been, even before the Plague swept through.Being conquered was a constant fear for past kings, and when the Plague killed nearly half the population, the kingdom was quarantined, isolated, and more vulnerable than ever.” She recites the information with her eyes trained on the sky above. “So, when the Elites were born from the Plague, the kingdom rejoiced at the power they suddenly had over everyone else.” She glances back at me. “Satisfied?”
“Hardly.” I smile. “Continue.”
A huff. Then a heavy sigh. “Ilya has remained isolated ever since, in order to ensure we are the only kingdom with Elites. And then, after seventy years, your father decided to banish all the Ordinaries so he could have his Elite society.”
“You are missing some very key points, Gray,” I interject.
“Right,” she sighs. “Thediseasethat Healers discovered we Ordinaries possess. The one that will eventually weaken the Elites’ powers.”
“And?” I prod.
“Andthe fact that Ordinaries and Elites procreating will eventually cause the Elite race to go extinct. That,” she adds with a pointed look, “I do believe.” With a sigh, she wistfully continues. “Only Elites can make Elites. Though, one’s abilities are not depicted by their parents. Some believe the level of power pertains to the very strength of the person.”
“So you do understand why Ilya must remain the way it is.”
“Yes,” she says softly. “Greed.”
I study her for a long moment, letting her words sink in. Hearing her perspective of Ilya is both jarring and intriguing. Having grown up as an Ordinary in the slums, she sees the kingdom vastly different than any upper-class Elite. And, unfortunately, I’m intrigued.
“Are you done quizzing me, or can I go to sleep now?” she asks, leaning back on her elbows.
I ignore her question to risk asking one of my own. “So what do you suggest, then?”
