by Kiera Cass
His cold eyes focused on mine. “What are you doing here?”
I swallowed. “I suppose you would have to ask Maxon.”
“I’m asking you.”
“He wants me here,” I said firmly. “And I want to be here. As long as both of those things are true, I’m staying.”
The king grinned. “You’re what, sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Seventeen.”
“I suspect you don’t know very much about men, which you shouldn’t if you’re here. Let me say, they can be very fickle. You might not want to hold on to your affection for him so tightly when a single moment could take his heart away for good.”
I squinted, unsure of what he meant.
“I have eyes all over this palace. I know there are girls offering him more than you’d dream. Do you think someone as plain as you could stand a chance next to them?”
Girls? As in plural? Was he saying that more than what I’d seen in the hall between Maxon and Celeste was happening? Were our hours of kisses last night tame compared to everything else he was experiencing?
Maxon had said he wanted to be honest with me. Was he keeping this a secret?
I had to decide in my heart that I trusted Maxon.
“If that’s true, then Maxon will let me go in his own time, and you have nothing to worry about.”
“But I do!” he bellowed, then dropped his voice. “If by some act of stupidity, Maxon actually chooses you, your little stunts would cost us everything. Decades, generations of work gone because you thought you were being a hero!”
He got in my face to the point that I actually took a step back, but he came closer, leaving very little space between us. His voice was low and harsh, and far more frightening than when he was yelling.
“You’re going to need to learn to hold your tongue. If not, you and I will be enemies. Trust me when I say that you do not want to be my enemy.”
His angry finger was pointing into my cheek. He could rip me to shreds right now. Even if there was someone nearby, what would they do? No one was going to protect me from the king.
I tried to sound calm. “I understand.”
“Excellent,” he said, suddenly turning cheerful. “Then I’ll leave you to settle back in. Good afternoon.”
I stood there, only realizing once he left that I was shaking. When he said to keep my mouth shut, I assumed that meant not even thinking of mentioning this to Maxon. So, for now I wouldn’t. I was betting this was a test to see how far he could push me. I willed myself to be unbreakable.
As I thought it, something in me changed. I was nervous, yes, but I was also angry.
Who was this man to order me around? Yes, he was king; but, really, he was just a tyrant. Somehow he’d convinced himself that by keeping everyone around him oppressed and quiet, he was doing us all a favor. How was it a blessing to be forced to live in a corner of society? How was it good that there were limits for everyone in Illéa but him?
I thought of Maxon sneaking Marlee into the depths of the kitchens. Even if I wasn’t here for very long, I knew he would do a better job than his father. Maxon at least had the capacity for compassion.
I continued to breathe slowly, and once I felt composed, I carried on.
I walked into my room and scurried over to press the button that sent for my maids. Faster than I could have imagined, Anne, Mary, and Lucy came running breathlessly into my room.
“My lady?” Anne said. “Is something wrong?”
I smiled. “Not unless you think me staying is a bad thing.”
Lucy squealed. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“But how?” Anne asked. “I thought you said—”
“I know, I know. It’s hard to explain. All I can say is that I’ve been given a second chance. Maxon matters to me, and I’m going to fight for him.”
“That’s so romantic!” Mary cried, and Lucy started clapping her hands.
“Hush, hush!” Anne called out sternly. I thought she would be excited and didn’t understand her sudden seriousness.
“If she’s going to win, we need a plan.” Her smile was diabolical, and I grinned with her. I’d never met anyone as organized as these girls. If I had them, there was no way I could lose.
END OF BOOK TWO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
WELL, HELLO THERE, SASSY READER. Thank you for reading my book! I hope it made you have unbearable feelings that you find yourself tweeting about at 3:00 a.m. That’s what it does to me, so …
To Callaway, the sweetest hubby a girl could have. Thank you for your support of and pride in what I do. You make it so much better. Lurve you.
To Guyden and Zuzu, Mommy loves you bunches! I’m crazy about the stories I write, but you’ll always be the best things I ever made.
To Mom, Dad, and Jody, thanks for being the weirdest family possible, and for loving me just like I am.
To Mimi, Papa, and Chris, thanks for your love and support, and for being so excited every step of the way.
To the rest of my family—too many names to even think about listing—thank you! I know that, wherever you are, you’re always bragging about your niece/granddaughter/cousin who writes books, and it means a lot to me to know you’re behind me all the way.
To Elana, thanks for pretty much everything under the sun. This wouldn’t have happened without you.*awkward hug*
To Erica, thanks for letting me call you a zillion times and for being as excited as I am about this story and for just generally being awesome.
To Kathleen, thank you for making it so people in Brazil and China and Indonesia and wherever else get to read these books, too! Still blows my mind.
To the gang at HarperTeen, you guys are unendingly rad, and I love you.
To FTW … *throws ham in celebration*
To Northstar, thanks for being home for the Cass family.
To Athena, Rebeca, and the gang at the Christiansburg Panera for making me great hot chocolates and being awkward in the background while I did phone interviews. Thanks!
To Jessica and Monica … basically because a promise is a promise, and you guys make me laugh.
To you for sticking with America (and with me) while this all unfolds. Also, you rock my face off.
To God for the mercy that is writing. I’d be lost otherwise.
To naps … which is where I’m going now. And to cake, just because.
Credits
COVER ART © 2013 BY GUSTAVO MARX/MERGE LEFT REPS, INC.
COVER DESIGN BY ERIN FITZSIMMONS
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
THE ELITE
Copyright © 2013 by Kiera Cass
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks.
www.epicreads.com
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cass, Kiera.
The Elite / Kiera Cass. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: “Sixteen-year-old America Singer is one of only six girls still competing in the Selection—but before she can fight to win Prince Maxon and the Illean crown, she must decide where her own heart truly lies”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-205996-3 (trade)
ISBN 978-0-06-226285-1 (int’l ed.)
[1. Marriage—Fiction. 2. Contests—Fiction. 3. Social classes—Fiction. 4. Princes—Fiction. 5. Love—Fiction.
6. Revolutionaries—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.C2685133Eli 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2012038124
CIP
AC
* * *
13 14 15 16 17 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © APRIL 2013 ISBN: 9780062059987
Version 02072014
DEDICATION
For Callaway,
the boy who climbed into the tree house in my heart
and let me be the crown on his.
CONTENTS
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Credits
Copyright
CHAPTER 1
THIS TIME WE WERE IN the Great Room enduring another etiquette lesson when bricks came flying through the window. Elise immediately hit the ground and started crawling for the side door, whimpering as she went. Celeste let out a high-pitched scream and bolted toward the back of the room, barely escaping a shower of glass. Kriss grabbed my arm, pulling me, and I broke into a run alongside her as we made our way to the exit.
“Hurry, ladies!” Silvia cried.
Within seconds, the guards had lined up at the windows and were firing, and the bursts of sound echoed in my ears as we fled. Whether they came with guns or stones, anyone showing the smallest level of aggression within sight of the palace would die. There was no more patience left for these attacks.
“I hate running in these shoes,” Kriss muttered, a heap of dress draped over her arm, eyes focused on the end of the hall.
“One of us is going to have to get used to it,” Celeste said, her breath labored.
I rolled my eyes. “If it’s me, I’ll wear sneakers every day. I’m already over this.”
“Less talking, more moving!” Silvia yelled.
“How do we get downstairs from here?” Elise asked.
“What about Maxon?” Kriss huffed.
Silvia didn’t answer. We followed her through a maze of hallways, looking for a path to the basement, watching as guard after guard ran in the opposite direction. I found myself admiring them, wondering at the courage it took to run toward danger for the sake of other people.
The guards passing us were completely indistinguishable from one another until a set of green eyes locked with mine. Aspen didn’t look afraid or even startled. There was a problem, and he was on his way to fix it. That was simply who he was.
Our gaze was brief, but it was enough. It was like that with Aspen. In a split second, without a word, I could tell him Be careful and stay safe. And saying nothing, he’d answer I know, just take care of yourself.
While I could easily be at peace with the things we didn’t need to say, I had no such luck with the things we’d said out loud. Our last conversation wasn’t exactly a happy one. I had been about to leave the palace and had asked him to give me some space to get over the Selection. And then I’d ended up staying and had given him no explanation as to why.
Maybe his patience with me was falling short, his ability to see only the best in me running dry. Somehow I would have to fix that. I couldn’t see a life for me that didn’t include Aspen. Even now, as I hoped Maxon would choose me, a world without Aspen felt unimaginable.
“Here it is!” Silvia called, pushing a mysterious panel in a wall.
We started down the stairs, Elise and Silvia heading the charge.
“Damn it, Elise, pick up the pace!” Celeste yelled. I wanted to be irritated that she said it, but I knew we were all thinking the same thing.
As we descended into the darkness, I tried to reconcile myself to the hours that would be wasted, hiding like mice. We continued on, the sound of our escape covering the shouts until one man’s voice rang out right on top of us.
“Stop!” he yelled.
Kriss and I turned together, watching as the uniform became clear. “Wait,” she called to the girls below. “It’s a guard.”
We stood on the steps, breathing heavily. He finally reached us, gasping himself.
“Sorry, ladies. The rebels ran as soon as the shots were fired. Weren’t in the mood for a fight today, I guess.”
Silvia, running her hands over her clothes to smooth them, spoke for us. “Has the king deemed it safe? If not, you’re putting these girls in a very dangerous position.”
“The head of the guard cleared it. I’m sure His Majesty—”
“You don’t speak for the king. Come on, ladies, keep moving.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “We’re going down there for nothing.”
She fixed me with a stare that might have stopped a rebel in his tracks, and I shut my mouth. Silvia and I had built a friendship of sorts as she unknowingly helped me distract myself from Maxon and Aspen with her extra lessons. After my little stunt on the Report a few days ago, it seemed that had dissolved into nothing. Turning to the guard, she continued. “Get an official order from the king, and we’ll return. Keep walking, ladies.”
The guard and I shared an exasperated look and parted ways.
Silvia showed absolutely no remorse when, twenty minutes later, a different guard came, telling us we were free to go upstairs.
I was so irritated by the whole situation, I didn’t wait for Silvia or the other girls. I climbed the stairs, exiting somewhere on the first floor, and continued to my room with my shoes still hooked on my fingers. My maids were missing, but a small silver platter holding an envelope was waiting on the bed.
I recognized May’s handwriting instantly and tore open the envelope, devouring her words.
Ames,
We’re aunts! Astra is perfect. I wish you were here to meet her in person, but we all understand you need to be at the palace right now. Do you think we’ll be together for Christmas? Not that far away! I’ve got to get back to helping Kenna and James. I can’t believe how pretty she is! Here’s a picture for you. We love you!
May
I slipped the glossy photo from behind the note. Everyone was there except for Kota and me. James, Kenna’s husband, was beaming, standing over his wife and daughter with puffy eyes. Kenna sat upright in the bed, holding a tiny pink bundle, looking equal parts thrilled and exhausted. Mom and Dad were glowing with pride, while May’s and Gerad’s enthusiasm jumped from the image. Of course Kota wouldn’t have gone; there was nothing for him to gain from being present. But I should have been there.
I wasn’t though.
I was here. And sometimes I didn’t understand why. Maxon was still spending time with Kriss, even after all he’d done to get me to stay. The rebels unrelentingly attacked our safety from the outside, and inside, the king’s icy words did just as much damage to my confidence. All the while, Aspen orbited me, a secret I had to keep. And the cameras came and went, stealing pieces of our lives to entertain the people. I was being pushed into a corner from every angle, and I was missing out on all the things that had always mattered to me.
I choked back angry tears. I was so tired of crying.
Instead I went into planning mode. The only way to set things right was to end the Selection.
Though I still occasionally questioned my desire to be the princess, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to be Maxon’s. If that was going to happe
n, I couldn’t sit back and wait for it. Remembering my last conversation with the king, I paced as I waited for my maids.
I could hardly breathe, so I knew eating would be a waste. But it would be worth the sacrifice. I needed to make some progress, and I needed to do it fast. According to the king, the other girls were making advances toward Maxon—physical advances—and he’d said I was far too plain to have a chance of matching them in that department.
As if my relationship with Maxon wasn’t complicated enough, there was a whole new issue of rebuilding trust. And I wasn’t sure if that meant I wasn’t supposed to ask questions or not. While I felt pretty sure he hadn’t gone that far physically with the other girls, I couldn’t help but wonder. I’d never tried to be seductive before—pretty much every intimate moment I’d had with Maxon came about without intention—but I had to hope that if I was deliberate, I could make it clear that I was just as interested in him as the others.
I took a deep breath, raised my chin, and walked into the dining hall. I was purposely a minute or two late, hoping everyone would already be seated. I was right on that count. But the reaction was better than I’d hoped.
I curtsied, swinging my leg around so the slit in the dress fell open, leading nearly all the way up my thigh. The dress was a deep red, strapless and practically backless, and I was almost positive my maids had used magic to make it stay up at all. I rose, locking eyes with Maxon, who I noticed had stopped chewing. Someone dropped a fork.
Lowering my gaze, I walked to my seat, settling in next to Kriss.
“Seriously, America?” she whispered.
I tilted my head in her direction. “I’m sorry?” I replied, feigning confusion.
She put her silverware down, and we stared at each other. “You look trashy.”
“Well, you look jealous.”
I’d hit pretty close to the mark, because she flushed a bit before returning to her food. I took limited bites of my own, already miserably constricted. As dessert was being set in front of me, I chose to stop ignoring Maxon, and as I had hoped, his eyes were on me. He reached up and grabbed his ear immediately, and I demurely did the same. My gaze flickered quickly toward King Clarkson, and I tried not to smile. He was irritated, another trick I’d managed to get away with.
