Page 55 of This Cruel Fate

“What good would I have done? I was left alone in a world that didn’t know I existed. I didn’t have the resources to change my records or forge documents. But I had the time to learn.” Bridget stood up from the small bench she had been sitting on. “I want to help you, Xolia. Variants are divided about FAR right now. Half of them believe in Chancellor Bellevue and Vice Chancellor Campion, and the other half despise them. None of them know you’re planning on running. It’s going to divide the community even more. You need help, I can provide that help.”

“Variants are really that divided about FAR?” Sure, Adonis had talked about it, but she hadn’t really believed it. Who else could the variants turn to?

As if noticing the lost look, which Xolia was sure was written all over her face, Bridget placed a hand on Xolia’s arm. “This isn’t the time to discuss that. That can come later. I’m sure Chancellor Bellevue is wondering where we are.”

Xolia nodded, her mind still swimming. She wanted to go to Adonis, to get his opinion on everything. Despite the lingering lack of trust that she couldn’t shake, his opinion mattered most to her. She wanted to awe him. She wanted to be the best everything to him.

Back in the stateroom, Peter called in Lana to get Bridget officially hired and then to run through a list of background checks Bridget would need to pass. Xolia side-eyed Bridget, wondering just how good of a forger she really was, but she seemed unconcerned about the whole affair, just nodding and signing at the appropriate moments. She would start within the week, with Bridget spending her time between working with Lana and working with Xolia. Lana handed Xolia a schedule for the following three months, starting with the official announcement and running up until the first official debate, when all candidates would start their campaigns at full throttle to win over the populace.

Giddy satisfaction ran through Xolia once she got over the initial swarm of being overwhelmed. It was so different from her menial work at the bureau. It was so different from the barracks, where assignments had-been handed to her on a need-to-know basis. The war had been the most similar, but with Silas running everything and keeping all of his meetings secretive there was little to no true leadership on Xolia being the one to order everyone around. Everything she had to do had been given to her already planned and figured out. Despite this current inflexibility, there was a certain amount of freedom in the power it provided. She could share her voice. It would be her influence lending to Peter’s campaign. What she would do from here on out would actually matter. Xolia decided it was worth the security and the staff that would come with it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Xolia woke up to an arm slung low across her waist and Adonis breathing deeply into the tangled mess of her hair. She’d spent the previous night at his apartment, in anticipation of trying to sell herself as the long-awaited Selermine of the Rheathian Church. Nerves pooled in the pit of her stomach. It was such a far-fetched idea, and yet. . .And yet, she couldn’t let it go. It had taken root in her mind, leaving her no peace until she saw it through.

Moving as much as her living restraint would allow her, she glanced at the clock. It was time she started getting ready.

“Adonis,” she said, trying harder to move away from him.

He huffed something unintelligible and curled in closer to her. His mouth ghosted the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Desire coursed through her, something that was so unlike the many monotonous mornings spent near Marshall. It was just further confirmation that this was right. This was where she was meant to be. She was on the right track to go after the VC position, it was right to be with Adonis.

“Wake up.” She turned around in his arms, pushing at him to wake him up.

“No,” he whispered, tugging her closer to him.

Xolia brushed his hair away from his face, betraying his eyes that were scrunched shut and a lazy smile on his face. “We need to get ready for church.”

He groaned, finally pulling away from her and throwing the arm that had been wrapped around her over his face. “I know. I know.”

Throwing the blankets back from both of them, Xolia pulled herself from the comfort of the bed. “How did last night go?”

“Poorly.” Adonis got out of bed and walked over to the walk-in closet. “The twins are fairly confident in the amount of support Helen will get from announcing her candidacy.”

“They don’t even know she’s a variant.” Xolia huffed. “And no one outside of the fights knows who she is.”

“Once she reveals herself to be an unregistered variant, word will spread and so will the support,” he said. “There are more unregistered variants than we know about.”

He was right, but that did little to temper the anger coursing through her. It wasn’t fair that Helen could sit back with having the right father and money and try to take what Xolia had fought for. What was supposed to be hers.

“How much evidence does she have on you?” Xolia ventured to ask. No matter his answer, it wouldn’t change his end goal for Helen or Xolia’s part in it.

Adonis stilled, his hand still outstretched toward a button-down shirt. “Enough to put me away for a long time. And being a variant? No judge would hesitate to try and put me away for life.”

Xolia nodded. “You really think taking her out in front of other people will sway them? Won’t they just turn against me?”

He tilted his head at her. “The fights are about who is the strongest. If we are going to get anywhere in this country, we need to be unified by following the strongest of us. We’ll make sure they know that.”

Malaise settled over her with the lax way she had just talked about planning someone’s death. It was different from war—everything was for survival, a greater purpose. Everyone involved knew they were facing death, it was all a matter of who was faster, stronger.

“We need this,” Adonis continued. “The country needs this. If we let her have her way, humans will lose their rights. And what will that lead to? More chaos. More death.”

“I just don’t want them to turn against me,” Xolia admitted. Why should I care about one life in the face of an entire nation? Helen wasn’t planning to die. But she needed to. Too much was at stake for her to care about one person. It won’t feel any different. She had been so ready to kill her opponent back in the fighting ring the first time she went. In the heat of the moment, the only thing that had mattered was her coming out on top.

You need the practice for Atlas, anyway. She knew it was only a matter of time before she and Atlas would be reduced to fighting one another again. Whatever he was planning, she was in the way. He was in her way.

“They won’t. I’ll make sure they won’t.”

Xolia nodded. Whatever it would take, that’s what she would do. It’s for peace. It’s for a united Ris.

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