Page 40 of Silver Elite

A lanky guy named Lash, who sits on his own, looking bored as he watches the rest of us.

“Do you ride horses in Z?” Lyddie asks when the conversation returns to us.

“Ward Z?” drawls a male voice. “Well, shit. We have a cowgirl in our midst?”

It’s the guy with the golden hair and impish eyes.

I spare him a glance before answering Lyddie. “I grew up on a horse.”

Golden Hair comes to a stop in front of us, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his trousers. His tall, muscular body fills out his uniform very, very nicely. I notice Lyddie admiring him, then hastily shifting her gaze when he notices. He winks knowingly at me while a blush blooms on her cheeks. Me, I’m not as impressed. He’s undeniably attractive, yes. But those eyes are dangerous.

“Do you have a name, cowgirl?”

“Do you?” I counter.

“Kaine Sutler. Ward D.”

“Coal country,” I say dubiously as my gaze drops to his hands. They’re too pretty to be miner’s hands. And it’s common knowledge that even the children in D help out in the mines. Some are pulled from school entirely if there’s a shortage of manpower. “How’d those mines treat you?”

He grins. “Fuck that. Mild asthma as a kid was the best thing that ever happened to me. Never had to step foot in a mine.”

“What was your supplement, then?” Lyddie asks him. Every student, starting at the age of fifteen, spends their last two yearssupplementing their schooling with a job assignment. I was able to supplement on the ranch.

“Packaging plant,” he says before glancing between us. “You two still haven’t told me your names.” His gaze lingers on me rather than Lyddie.

“Wren,” I say grudgingly. “Darlington.”

“Lyddie De Velde.” She extends an arm, and he clasps his fingers around her wrist in greeting. I notice she clings to his wrist just a tad too long.

When he holds his hand out to me, I just stare at him. That makes him chuckle.

“Anyway. Z, eh? That’s an asset ward. Family of farmers? Ranchers?”

“Ranchers.”

“Does that mean you’re good with ropes? Because I’m not against being tied up.”

This guy is going to be incorrigible. I just know it.

“Will you be flirting the entire eight weeks or are you trying to get it all out of your system now?” I ask in a polite tone.

“The entire eight weeks,” he promises, and Lyddie giggles.

—

I’m subjected to a monotonous day of reading manuals and trying not to rip my hair out in boredom. Eventually we’re dismissed and shuffled to the mess hall for dinner. Afterward, none other than Tyler Struck, my other interrogator, joins Hadley to escort us to our living quarters. Her gaze flickers in my direction, but she doesn’t remark on my abrupt upgrade from suspect to recruit.

On the way to the barracks, we pass a large common room with comfortable seating and coffee machines. There’s also a commissary. Struck says we’re allotted ten Lux credits per week to spend while we’re here and can earn extra credits depending on our performance in each section.

The barracks are co-ed. I don’t love that, what with Anson eyeingme all day. I’m not interested in feeling those predacious eyes on me while I sleep. The showers and lavatories are not co-ed, at least.

Hadley’s Red Cell recruits are bunking at one end of the hall. Struck leads the Black Cell to the other end, and we follow her into another windowless room. I’m starting to think the Command detests natural light. This space is cavernous, with high ceilings and two rows of neatly made beds. Everyone’s belongings are lined up against a wall of lockers. Black duffels with name tags on them. I don’t have any belongings, only the one uniform and toothbrush they gave me. I’d kill for a hairbrush right about now.

Struck makes a sweeping gesture with her arm. “One to a bed.”

“What if we get cold?” Kaine asks, eyes dancing.

“One to a bed,” she repeats. “And there are consequences to breaking the rules, so I recommend you do as you’re told. No sharing. No switching once you’ve selected your bunk. No exceptions.”

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