Page 121 of Elas

“Well,” Gale says, tapping his fingertips against the desk between us. “Everything is official, Officer Elas. I’m assuming you have no reason to linger?”

Real subtle, asshole.

I gesture at the clock with a bored shrug. “I’d prefer not to make the drive in the dark. Headlights on these empty stretches of roads are only beacons for trouble.”

“Of course,” he says, with a smile that’s more like a threat.

“Plus, I haven’t met with your commander yet. It would be impolite for me to leave without an acknowledgement.”

“Yes, I apologize for that. The commander has been indisposed since you arrived.”

“Well, then. It’s lucky I’ll be hanging around until tomorrow.”

“Lucky, indeed,” he agrees with another of those forced smiles. “August’s room has been prepared. A guard will escort him to his new quarters.” Panic seizes my insides at the words, and I can’t help the momentary snarl that forms on my lips.

“No.”

“No?” His ridged brow quirks as he leans forward. The monster inside me thrashes, restless after being subdued for so long, when all it wants to do is burn this place to the ground. It rattles and shakes, demanding to be set free.

This mask I wear grows tighter by the minute, and I wonder how much longer I can maintain this act.

My jaw aches with the fury, but I force a casual shrug. “There’s no point in bothering someone else. I can collect his supplies from my room.” I’m careful not to use collective terms.Ourthings.Ourroom. “His keycard will provide access?”

“Yes,” Gale says after a moment’s pause.

“Then don’t waste someone’s time with useless tasks when I have nothing to do. Which building and room will he be in?”

Another long break grows thick between us as he tries to decide whether the fight is worth it. “The medic barracks, room eighteen.” I hold in my sigh, relieved he won’t be with the soldiers.

“He’s done for the day, then?”

“He is,” he agrees, stretching the words out, but I don’t give him time to say anything else as I stand and walk into the lobby. A scientist in a white coat walks by and buzzes into the set of doors I’ve not been allowed inside. A giant piece of stainless steel equipment sits through the first window, nearly the size of a car with antenna and switches visible along a complicated control panel. The door slams shut, and the lock engages with a mechanical slide, so I turn my eyes back towards the exam rooms. Minutes tick by, and when August joins me, he’s even paler than he was yesterday.

“They said…” he starts, then swallows and tries again. “They said I’ll be moved to a different room?” Fuck, I want to sweep him into my arms. My limbs vibrate with the need to comfort him, my fingers clutching at my uniform in agitation as I fight it.

“Yes,” I say, leaving no room for argument in my tone. We can’t have this conversation here. Not with the prying eyes and curious ears that hear far too much. “Your keycard will access it. We need to collect your things from my room.”

“So, it’s… official, then?”

“Yes.” I force the word through a closed throat and clenched teeth, stuck in a vicious cycle.

Half of me is glad to know this place exists and what they’re doing, but the other half—the louder one—wishes we’d never come. Wishes we’d never stepped foot outside that small home, where August’s body was one with mine and we could love without fear. Where he smiled and laughed, and I could stare at it all day and never grow tired of the dimples that pit in his cheeks.

It wasn’t enough time.

It willneverbe enough time.

“Come,” I say, turning and walking out the door. My senses are attuned to everything—the hesitant shuffle of his feet and the stuttered way he breathes. We step outside, and the silence is deafening as my pulse thuds in my ears. Never in my life have I wanted to hear the song of a bird or the chirp of an insect as much as I do right now.

This place is a plague, and the world around it is dead.

The attention of the guards follows us as we walk. My movements don’t feel like my own, like I’m a puppet being led by my strings as I push into the cool air of the barracks. As soon as the door is locked behind us, he throws himself into my arms.

“Don’t leave me,” he begs in a whisper, pressing his lips to mine with a desperation that wedges splinters all the way into my soul.

“Listen to me, baby,” I murmur, not willing to separate our mouths as he holds on to me. “Listen to me. There isn’t a godsdamned thing on this planet that would make me leave you. Not here, not anywhere. Where you go, I go. Always.”

“I don’twant to be alone.” He trembles in my arms, his lips dragging down my jawline and finding my neck as he whimpers. “I don’t—” A loud banging on the door makes both of us jump, and his hands shake even harder.

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