Page 94 of After Darkness Falls

Her new room was five times the size of the old one and ten times more luxurious.

“Same walls?” Blair asked.

Chloe shook her head. She’d changed too much to cling to the past.

“What color, then?”

“You pegged me well in January. Do it again.”

Her mentor tilted her head, thinking for a moment. Then she repeated her spell. This time, the walls were dark purple, and the flowers gold.

* * *

Between forty and seventy-three hours after drinking her blood, each subject in the containment levels woke up disorientated, confused, and angry.

All were cured.

Chloe would have given whatever drops of blood she could spare to help, but Levi didn't let her. He and the alchemist, Alexius, removed some of her marrow and started to work on a synthetic remedy instead.

He was busy, and so was she, catching up on days of work and a project that wasn't easy to organize from Oldcrest. Delivery companies didn't actually pop by the shielded sup territory. But she bribed Tris to pick up some stuff in the nearby towns.

The next Friday, her project was ready.

Chloe gathered the boxes she'd ordered during the week and set off.

When her eyes caught a silhouette she hadn't talked to since that dreadful day on the hill, she changed course.

She rushed to the lake behind the three hills, biting her lip.

41

Claim

The blond man in the white suit noticed her approaching. She could tell from the way he stiffened but didn't turn to greet her.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Jack, about Reiss and Bash.”

She never had the chance to speak to him after the funeral.

He shrugged, throwing a stone that ricocheted off the surface of the water.

"It sucks about Reiss," he admitted. "But he knew what he was getting into. Just because we're catching a break behind these walls doesn't change what it means to be huntsmen. We protect the world from darkness. And yes, we get hurt doing so. Nothing new. He'll be honored as any warrior."

Chloehated every single word he'd just said. She hated that this world existed, that it was normal to lose a twenty-eight-year-old to a pack of monsters.

"As for Bash," he added, "what are you sorry for exactly?"

She felt like it was a trick question, but she answered anyway.

"He died."

Jack had turned to her now. "So did you," he replied quietly.

Chloe's heart skipped a beat.

She had died. She remembered the sound of her snapping neck echoing in her ears. The girl she'd been, her mortal shell, had ceased to exist. And yet she felt no loss, no attachment to that person.

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