The Selection Stories Collection

by Kiera Cass

  “As you now know, my life is full of stresses that I prefer not to share. I live in a constant state of tension. I’m always being watched, judged. My parents, our advisers … there are always cameras in my life, and now you’re all here,” he said, motioning to me. “I’m sure you’ve felt trapped at least once because of your caste, but imagine how I feel. There are things I’ve seen, America, and things I know; and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to change them.

  “You’re aware, I’m sure, that technically my father is supposed to retire in my twenties, when he feels I’m ready to lead; but do you think he’ll ever stop pulling the strings? That’s not going to happen so long as he lives; and I know he’s terrible, but I don’t want him to die …. He is my father.”

  I nodded.

  “Speaking of which, he’s had his hand in the Selection from very early on. If you look at who’s left, it’s pretty clear.” He started ticking off the girls on his fingers. “Natalie is extremely pliable, and that makes her my father’s favorite, as I am too willful in his opinion. The fact that he’s so fond of her makes me have to fight the urge to hate her.

  “Elise has allies in New Asia, but I’m not sure if that’s of any use at all. That war …” Maxon debated something and shook his head. There was some detail about this war that he didn’t want to share with me. “And she’s so … I don’t even know the word for it. I knew from the beginning that I didn’t want some girl who would agree with everything I said or just roll over and adore me. I try to contradict her, and she concedes the point. Every time! It’s infuriating. It’s like she doesn’t have a spine.”

  He took a steadying breath. I didn’t realize how much she got under his skin. He was always so patient with us. Finally he looked at me.

  “You were my pick. My only pick. My father wasn’t enthusiastic; but at that point you hadn’t done anything to upset him. So long as you were quiet, he didn’t mind me keeping you. In fact, he was fine with me choosing you, if you were well behaved. He’s used your recent actions to point out the flaws in my judgment and is insisting that he have the final say now.”

  He shook his head. “That’s beside the point. The others—Marlee, Kriss, and Celeste—were chosen by advisers. Marlee was a favorite, as is Kriss.” He sighed. “Kriss would be a fine choice. I wish she would let me closer, if only for the fact that I don’t know if we have … chemistry. I’d like to at least have an idea.

  “And Celeste. She is very influential, a celebrity in her own right. It looks good on TV. It sounds right for someone who is close to being on the same level as me to be the final choice. I like her if only for her tenacity. She at least has a backbone. But I can tell that she’s got a manipulative streak and that she’s working this whole situation for everything she can get out of it. I know when she holds me, it’s the crown she pulls close to her heart.”

  He closed his eyes, as if what he was about to say was the worst of all. “She’s using me, so I don’t feel guilty using her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been encouraged to throw herself at me. I can respect Kriss’s boundaries. And I’d much prefer to be in your arms, but you’ve barely spoken to me ….

  “Is it so awful of me to want fifteen minutes of my life not to matter? To feel good? To pretend for a little while that someone loves me? You can judge me if you want, but I can’t apologize for needing something normal in my life.”

  He stared deep into my eyes, waiting for me to reproach him and hoping I wouldn’t at the same time.

  “I get that.”

  I thought of Aspen, holding me tight and making his promises. Hadn’t I done the very same thing? I could see the wheels turning in Maxon’s head, wondering how literally I meant that. This was one secret I couldn’t share. Even if it was all over for me, I couldn’t let Maxon think of me that way.

  “Would you ever pick her? Celeste, I mean?”

  He came to sit beside me, making his moves carefully. I couldn’t imagine how much his back was hurting him.

  “If I had to, I’d take her over Elise or Natalie. But that won’t happen unless Kriss decides she wants to go.”

  I nodded. “Kriss is a good choice. She’d make a much better princess than I ever would have.”

  He chuckled. “She is less of an instigator. Lord knows what would happen to the country with you at the helm.”

  I laughed along because he was right. “I’d probably ruin it.”

  Maxon continued to smile when he spoke. “But maybe it needs ruining.”

  We sat there in silence for a little while. I wondered what our world would look like ruined. We couldn’t get rid of the royal family—how could we possibly transition it out?—but maybe we could change the way some things were run. Offices could be elected instead of inherited. And the castes … I really would love to see those dead and gone.

  “Would you indulge me?” Maxon asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve shared a lot of things with you tonight that are very difficult for me to admit. I was wondering if you could answer one question for me.”

  His face was so sincere, I didn’t want to deny him. I hoped I wouldn’t regret whatever this was about, but he had been more honest than I deserved at this point.

  “Yes. Anything.”

  He swallowed. “Did you ever love me?”

  Maxon looked into my eyes, and I wondered if he could see it there. All the emotions I’d fought because I thought he was something he wasn’t, all the feelings I never wanted to put a name on. I ducked my head.

  “I know that when I thought you were responsible for hurting Marlee, it crushed me. Not just because it happened, but because I didn’t want to think of you as that kind of person. I know that when you talk about Kriss or when I think about you kissing Celeste … I’m so jealous I can hardly breathe. And I know that when we talked on Halloween, I was thinking about our future. And I was happy. I know if you had asked, I would have said yes.” Those last words were a whisper, almost too difficult to think about.

  “I also know that I never knew how to feel about you dating other people or being a prince. Even with everything you told me tonight, I think there are pieces of yourself that you will always guard ….

  “But, with all that …” I nodded. I couldn’t say the words aloud. If I did, how would I be able to leave?

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “At least I can know for certain that, for one brief moment of our time together, you and I felt the same thing.”

  My eyes stung, threatening to spill over with more tears. He’d never actually told me he loved me, and he wasn’t exactly saying it now. But the words were so, so very close.

  “I’ve been so foolish,” I said, my breath catching. I’d fought hard against the tears, but I couldn’t anymore. “I kept letting the crown scare me out of wanting you. I told myself that you didn’t really matter to me. I kept thinking that you had lied to me or tricked me, that you didn’t trust me or care about me enough. I let myself believe that I wasn’t important to you.”

  I stared at his handsome face. “One look at your back says you’d do damn near anything for me. And I threw it away. I just threw it away ….”

  He opened his arms, and I fell into them. Maxon held me silently, running his hands through my hair. I wished I could erase everything else and hold on to this moment, this brief second when he and I knew how much we meant to each other.

  “Please don’t cry, darling. I’d spare you tears for the rest of your life if I could.”

  My breathing was uneven as I spoke. “I’ll never see you again. It’s all my fault.”

  He held me closer. “No, I should have been more open.”

  “I should have been more patient.”

  “I should have proposed that night in your room.”

  “I should have let you.”

  He chuckled. I looked up at his face, unsure of how many more of his smiles I’d have. Maxon’s fingers swept away the tears from my cheeks, and he sat there gazi
ng into my eyes. I did the same to him, wanting to remember this so badly.

  “America … I don’t know how much time we have left together, but I don’t want to spend it regretting things we didn’t do.”

  “Me either.” I turned my face into his palm, kissing it. Then I kissed the tips of each of his fingers. He slid that hand deep into my hair and pulled my lips to his.

  I had missed these kisses, so quiet, so sure. I knew that, in my whole life, if I married Aspen or someone else, no one would ever make me feel this way. It wasn’t like I made his world better. It was like I was his world. It wasn’t some explosion; it wasn’t fireworks. It was a fire, burning slowly from the inside out.

  We shifted, sliding so I was on the floor and Maxon was above me. He ran his nose along my jawline, down my neck, across my shoulder, and kissed the same path back to my lips. I kept running my fingers through his hair. It was so soft, it almost tickled my palms.

  After a while we pulled out the blankets and built a makeshift bed. He held me for the longest time, looking into my eyes. We could have spent years doing this if not for me.

  Once Maxon’s shirt was dry, he put it on, covering the dried stains with his coat, and curled up next to me again. When we both got tired, we started talking. I didn’t want to sleep through a second of this, and I sensed he didn’t either.

  “Do you think you’ll go back to him? Your ex?”

  I didn’t want to talk about Aspen right now, but I considered this. “He’s a good choice. Smart, brave, maybe the only person on the planet more stubborn than me.”

  Maxon laughed lightly. My eyes were closed, but I kept talking. “It would be awhile before I could think about that though.”

  “Mmm.”

  The silence stretched. Maxon rubbed his thumb along the hand he was holding.

  “Could I write you?” he asked.

  I thought about that. “Maybe you should wait a few months. You might not even miss me.”

  He gave an almost-laugh.

  “If you do write … you have to tell Kriss.”

  “You’re right.”

  He didn’t clarify whether that meant he would tell her or simply not write me, but I didn’t really want to know at the moment.

  I couldn’t believe that all this was happening because of a stupid book.

  I gasped, and my eyes shot open. A book!

  “Maxon, what if the Northern rebels are looking for the diaries?”

  He shifted, still not quite alert. “What do you mean?”

  “When I was chased that day in the gardens, I saw them as they passed me. A girl dropped a bag full of books. The guy with her had bunches, too. They’re stealing books. What if they’re looking for a specific one?”

  Maxon opened his eyes, squinting in thought. “America … what exactly was in that diary?”

  “A lot. About how Gregory basically stole the country, how he forced the castes on people. It was awful, Maxon.”

  “But the Report was cut off,” he insisted. “Even if that is what they’re looking for, there’s no way they could know that was it or what’s inside it. Trust me, after that little display, my father is making sure those things are even more protected than usual.”

  “That’s it.” I covered my face, stifling a yawn. “I know it.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t get worked up. For all we know, they just really, really like to read.”

  I moaned at his attempt at humor.

  “I seriously thought I couldn’t make this any worse.”

  “Shh,” he said, coming closer. His strong arms grounded me to the earth. “Don’t worry now. You should probably sleep.”

  “But I don’t want to,” I whispered, though I curled closer into him.

  Maxon closed his eyes again, still holding on to me. “Me either. Even on a good day, sleeping makes me nervous.”

  It made my heart ache. I couldn’t imagine his constant state of worry, especially considering that the person keeping him on edge was his own father.

  He let go of my hand and reached into his pocket. My eyelids parted a bit, but he was doing all this with his eyes closed. We were both so close to sleep. He found my hand again and started tying something on my wrist. I recognized the feeling of the bracelet he got me in New Asia as it slid into place.

  “I’ve been carrying it in my pocket. I’m a pitiful romantic, right? I was going to keep it, but I want you to have something from me.”

  He’d put the bracelet on over Aspen’s, and I felt the button pressing into my skin underneath it.

  “Thank you. It makes me happy.”

  “Then I’m happy, too.”

  We didn’t say anything else.

  CHAPTER 30

  THE SOUND OF THE CREAKING door woke me, and the light streaming in was so bright, I had to block my eyes.

  “Your Majesty?” someone asked. “Oh, God! I’ve found him,” he screamed. “He’s alive!”

  There was a sudden flurry around us as guards and butlers stormed to our location.

  “Were you not able to get downstairs, Your Majesty?” one of the guards asked. I looked at his name. Markson. I wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be one of the higher-ups in the guard.

  “No. An officer was supposed to tell my parents. I told him to go there first,” Maxon explained, trying to straighten his hair. Only once did his face give away that the movement pained him.

  “Which officer?”

  Maxon sighed. “I didn’t get his name.” He looked to me for confirmation.

  “Me either. But he was wearing a ring on his thumb. It was gray, like pewter or something.”

  Officer Markson nodded. “That was Tanner. He didn’t make it. We lost about twenty-five of the guards and a dozen staff.”

  “What?” I covered my mouth.

  Aspen.

  I prayed that he was safe. I’d been so consumed last night, it hadn’t occurred to me to worry.

  “What about my parents? The other Elite?”

  “All fine, sir. Your mother has been hysterical though.”

  “Is she out yet?” We started moving, Maxon leading the way.

  “Everyone is. We missed a few of the small safe rooms and were doing a second sweep, hoping to find you and Lady America.”

  “Oh, God,” Maxon said. “I’ll go to her first.” But then he stopped dead in his tracks.

  I followed his eyes and saw the destruction. That same line, the one from last time, was scrawled across the wall.

  WE’RE COMING

  Over and over, by any means they could find, the warning covered the halls. Beyond that, the level of destruction was elevated yet again. I’d never seen what the rebels managed to do to the first floor, only to the hallways near my room. Huge stains in the carpet announced where someone, perhaps a helpless maid or fearless guard, had died. Windows were shattered, leaving jagged teeth of glass in their place.

  Lights were broken, some flickering as they refused to give up. Terrifyingly, there were massive gouges in the walls; and it made me wonder if they had seen people going into the safe rooms, if they had been hunting. How close were Maxon and I to death last night?

  “Miss?” a guard said, bringing me back to the moment. “We’ve taken the liberty of contacting all the families. It appears the attack on Lady Natalie’s family was a direct attempt to end the Selection. They’re targeting your relatives to get you to leave.”

  I covered my mouth. “No.”

  “We’re already sending palace guards out to protect them. The king was adamant that none of the girls should go.”

  “What if they want to?” Maxon challenged. “We can’t hold them here against their will.”

  “Of course, sir. You’ll need to speak with the king.” The guard seemed embarrassed, not quite sure how to handle the difference of opinions.

  “You won’t have to guard my family long,” I said, hoping to break some tension. “Let them know I’ll be home soon.”

  The guard’s eyes flickered bet
ween Maxon and me, looking to confirm that I’d been eliminated. Maxon simply nodded once.

  “Yes, miss,” the guard said with a bow.

  Maxon interjected. “Is my mother in her room?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell her I’m coming. You’re dismissed.”

  We were alone again.

  Maxon took my hand in his. “Don’t rush away. Say good-bye to your maids and any of the girls if you want. And eat something. I know how you love the food.”

  I smiled. “I will.”

  Maxon wet his lips, almost fidgeting. This was it. This was good-bye.

  “You’ve changed me forever. And I’ll never forget you.”

  I ran my free hand down his chest, straightening his coat. “Don’t tug your ear with anyone else. That’s mine.” I gave him a tight smile.

  “A lot of things are yours, America.”

  I swallowed. “I need to go.”

  He nodded.

  Maxon kissed me once, quickly, on the lips, and ran down the hall. I watched until he was out of sight and then made my way back to my room.

  Each step up the main stairwell was torture, both because of what I had left and what I feared was coming. What if I rang the bell and Lucy didn’t come? Or Mary? Or Anne? What if I looked at every face of every guard I passed and not a single one was Aspen’s?

  I made my way to the second floor, passing destruction at every turn. It was still recognizable, the most beautiful place I’d ever seen, even in ruins. But the time and money it would take to restore this was beyond my imagination. The rebels were very thorough. As I got closer to my room, I heard the distinct sound of crying. Lucy.

  I let out a breath, happy she was alive but terrified of what was making her cry. I braced myself and turned the corner into my room.

  Working with red faces and swollen eyes, Mary and Anne were collecting the shattered glass from the doors to my balcony. I watched as Mary had to stop midsweep to exhale and calm herself. In a corner, Lucy was weeping into Aspen’s chest.

  “Shh,” he said, comforting her. “They’ll find her, I know it.”