Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!

Just a head's up: there is no update next week. The next chapter is so so so SO long and I'd prefer Amber not unfriend me, so it will be posted in two weeks so she has time to edit. I would suggest reading this one real slow or splitting it in half!

Thank you for reading and reviewing! đź’– See you in two Sundays!

He's sloppy.

It appears Landon has been having his own party, because he knocks into me with the force of someone who's been drunk since noon. Or maybe I'm just too drunk to take him seriously. His hands do reach my throat, right as I kick him back as hard as I can, and it sends him right into Forrest's table. There's a loud crash, a few shouts, and a cheer as Jake and Ryan hop to their feet, loudly encouraging me to keep going.

I don't need the encouragement. I stand up, tossing the beer aside, and when Landon looks up at me, I see red.

I've done nothing to him.

I'd found him tolerable when I met him; annoying and cocky, and a little too into Everly, but cordial enough. He wasn't entirely interested in why I was in Amity, until he realized the common ground we would end up having is Everly. His whole world must have turned upside down when he watched his chances of being with her go right down the drain. The difference between us is I like her, and it's obvious I have no intention of asking her to change, and Landon does not.

He wants her for the wife he thinks she should be, despite her telling him otherwise.

"Fuck you, you Erudite fuck. You really think she's gonna stay with you? She wants a way out. Rumor has it you'll be in Dauntless before the first snowfall, and she thinks she's going with you." Landon sneers, and he scrambles to his feet. "She doesn't give a shit about you. You're not very bright for someone who came from –"

This time, I see black.

It's a neat moment in my life.

There's a whirl of disassociation where I am dimly aware of punching him in the face. The blow is hard enough to hear a crack, and there's a low, audible murmur of both appreciation and horror, and a few more strange cheers of encouragement. The world of Amity fades away; for a fleeting moment, I am Dauntless, and Landon is my opponent. He fights back the best he can –a few blind swings, one scratch at the side of my face, and a smashed beer bottle right above my eyebrow. I barely feel any of it. I blink away the immediate rush of blood, and I rear back, hitting him right in the side, as hard as I can.

Everything returns to focus when I'm pulled back by a few hands. I struggle to break free, but I stop when I realize Hank's got a hold of me, and Jerry has a hold of Landon. There's a not so silent stand off as we stare each other down, and Jerry is the only one pleading for Landon to stop.

His words –you're going to mess this up for good this time –don't go unnoticed.

Landon throws him a darkly wild look, but he ignores him. Landon smirks, but he waits until he's sure I'm not going to lunge for him. His confidence comes only from Hank's grip on me, and he's wrong to think I won't punch him in the face again.

"You know what Eric is about to mess up? Everly. You think he's good for her? I heard about his girlfriend back in Erudite. I talked to her. I know what he's done with her. He's about to destroy Everly the same way." Landon says all this nastily, and Hank's grip on me tightens. "Come on, Hank. You really want him with Everly? Or maybe you do. Maybe you're happy you don't have to watch out for her anymore. She never really liked you. We all know it."

"That's unnecessary, Landon." Hank answers evenly. His words might be calm, but his fingers tighten on my arm. "You need to go home. We've talked about this before. You're getting all sorts of ideas from the wrong people."

"Fuck you," Landon throws out lazily, and his father's face grows furious. "Fuck all of you. Let go of me. You're all gonna be in for it when Eric runs this place into the ground. You're inviting trouble here. Hank should have told him to go back to Erudite. But he won't. Because he's sick of Everly, too."

"Whoa. Landon you're being really shitty," Jake turns to look at Landon and everyone in the room is pissed off. The air is thick with unease as a few murmur their agreement, but they stare at Landon as though he has revealed some deep, dark secret no one knew.

Except it's not.

If Hank is tired of trying to keep track of Everly, it's understandable. She's probably tired of having him looking after her. She'd been vocal about wanting to leave and do something for herself.

"Landon, apologize right now." Jerry threatens, and he looks irate. "Apologize to both Eric and Hank. You know none of that is true."

"Bullshit," Landon snaps. "You really think Everly gives a shit about her family? She's been trying to get her real father here for years. She doesn't care what happens to Hank. She wants him to leave her alone. She told me."

"She said she was sorry. She just wanted some space from everyone, not just our dad." Forrest sobers up quick, and his stare swings wildly from Hank and me, back to Landon. "You know damn well she didn't mean that. And she didn't tell you. You walked in on an argument not meant for you to hear."

"Yeah, well I did. And now everyone knows what's going on in the Carlen household. A daughter who wants her real father, and a stuck up, snobby asshole from Erudite who can't give her shit because he's about to be taken to another faction by Jeanine. Hank knows this," Landon crows, and my vision grows fuzzy.

The rage I feel is overwhelming, much like I imagine I would have felt clawing my way through the Dauntless ranks. Landon's words –true or not –have sparked something in me, and it's the urge to go beat the living shit out of him. There's a wave of defensiveness not only over Everly, but for Hank as well. I can appreciate a fantastic revenge plot rich with long hidden secrets, but not this one.

Not right now.

"Landon…" Hank starts to say something, and I hate the defeated tone in his voice. It's reminiscent of Daniel's tone when he knew Blythe had the upper hand. I was privy to many of their arguments, and Blythe was a master of manipulation. All she needed was to catch a single misstep, and Daniel was done for. It usually ended with him furious but ultimately trapped inside the very life he'd created.

"No." I shake my head, and I glance back at Hank. I don't know him on the same level Landon does. I haven't grown up around him, and Hank could very well view me as some asshole from Erudite, but that doesn't matter right now.

I've had enough of listening to Landon run his mouth because he thinks he knows better.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say you're out of line." I look right at him, and there's the faintest hint of a sting above my eye. I blink, and Landon's grin is taunting. "You should apologize to Hank. And Jerry. And Forrest, for ruining his bachelor party."

"You should apologize for what you've brought here," Landon retorts, and his stare moves to Hank. "And you should apologize for being a complete idiot! You don't even know what your daughter is doing these days."

Hank's grip is strong, and I've been struggling to move away from him. He has the best of intentions right now, but I've had enough. I've been listening to Landon for too long, and what he's saying is utter bullshit.

"Eric, it's fine. It's not worth it. Just…Jerry will take him home." Hank informs me quietly, and when I glance back, the look on his face tells me this is not fine.

That's enough for me.

"Hank, let me go. I'll take care of this," I ask less than politely, and my voice is malicious. I'm not loyal to many people. I couldn't bring myself to care if Daniel fell off a cliff, and I'd smile if someone told me Blythe had vanished off the face of the Earth. There are few people I care about, but they all reside here in Amity.

And they include Hank.

"Eric…" he hesitates, and I look back once more, until his eyes meet mine.

I nod my head slightly, and it's then, and only then, does he let go of me.

"Does it hurt?"

Eden presses her fingers to my face, holding the ice pack above my eye. I stare up at her around the dark fabric, and she frowns down at me. Hank had brought me to his house a few minutes ago, and she was up reading a book of witchcraft and wizardry. She looked surprised when we walked in, and her lips parted when Hank told her he thought I should be seen by someone.

Now, she reminds me a lot of Everly with her disapproving stare, and it's not from the fact that I'd gone after Landon with everything I had, but that I've been injured again.

This time, there's some glory in the battle wounds.

"Hank, you let him fight Landon?" Eden asks disapprovingly.

She's not mad, not entirely. She's dressed a lot like Everly, a skirt that's nowhere near warm enough for the temperature outside, and a tank top and sweater. Her hair is a mess, like she pulled it up quickly, and she throws her husband a questioning stare, all while trying to stop my head from bleeding.

The second fight had been quick.

I was a lot stronger, especially after weeks of working alongside Jerry. It worked to my advantage. I was prepared, even in my intoxicated state, and furious. Landon's mistake was being arrogant in thinking he had the upper hand. He was slow to react, unskilled once I knocked him to the ground, and useless once I broke his nose.

No one stopped me.

Not even Jerry.

I would bet there was a lot of lingering tension with Landon from everyone. Forrest wasn't his biggest fan, and neither was anyone else. Not Matt. Not Lacey. Not Charlie. Even Echo watched with wide eyes, until I was sure Landon knew better. I stopped before I really hurt him, exercising a control I didn't know I had, because I didn't want to murder him in front of a room full of people. I knelt beside him to listen to his ragged breathing and bent down once I was sure he'd live. I lowly informed him I no longer forgave him, and he could get the fuck out before I kept going.

He did.

He nodded, then looked away.

I was pulled to my feet by Hank, patted on the back by Forrest, and immediately taken to get checked out. Landon hadn't done much damage besides smashing his beer bottle on my head and the gash was debatable. Eden had cleaned it, pressed an ice pack to it, and was now lowly muttering about taking me to get stitches for the second time.

"He didn't let me fight anyone. Landon came for me first, then insulted everyone in the room. Including Hank. I was done listening to him," I inform her, wincing when the slice in my skin throbs. I'd caught sight of it when I walked into their house. The cut was right above my eyebrow, thick and prominent, and it would more than likely leave a scar. "He insulted your daughter, too."

"Well, he's made it clear he's not a good person," Eden answers, and she takes my face in her hands. They're unsurprisingly cold, and I would guess she and Everly share the same inability to stay warm by simply wearing something meant for summer. "Do you want Hank to take you to Erudite? I can stitch it up for you, but if you want to see your father…"

"You do it."

I answer immediately, and I look away when Everly shows up, frantic and visibly upset. Her mouth is tense, and she walks with her arms crossed over her, and her eyes glued to me. They are wide with horror, and her lips turn down when she gets closer.

She stops right in front of me once Eden steps away. Her hair is pulled up in a bun, and the hoodie she has on is mine. It looks like someone has woken her up to come find me, and she blinks when her stare finds the cut above my eyebrow.

There's a wave of deja vu.

I glance down at her feet, expecting to see untied shoes, but she has none on.

"Eric?" She says my name softly, so quietly I almost don't hear her. "Are you okay? Really okay? Forrest told me what happened"

I look at Eden, smiling encouragingly as she scrounges up whatever she needs to close the cut, then I drag my stare back to Everly. There's a speck of discomfort in seeing her now. She'd already shown up for one injury, and a second time is embarrassing.

Her stare is heavy with concern, with pure, honest worry, and it makes my stomach turn over. I'm not injured like the last time; I had been the one to hurt Landon, and I'm only here because I'm bleeding.

At least the last time, she was there pretending to be my wife.

"I'm fine." I answer tightly, but I swallow thickly when she steps closer. She reaches out to take my hands in hers, and she's cold. She's also swallowed up by the jacket, and I realize she has my shirt on, too. There's an attachment about all this that I like, and I like it even more when her fingers slide between mine to hold on. "It's just a scrape."

"It's dripping into your eye," she points out, and she smiles when I blink away the itch of blood. "Why did you fight Landon? What did he say?"

"A lot of shit that's not true," I watch her face closely, and there's a hint of appreciation behind her eyes for defending her. "A lot of things he shouldn't be saying. He insulted your father. I didn't think that was right."

"They were close once," Everly informs me, and her shrug tells me it doesn't matter now. "I don't know why he's so mad. You didn't do anything to him. I'm the one who turned him down."

"Yeah, well…that's enough for him." I smile at her, but it's forced and she knows it. She nods, and steps aside when her mother returns. "Maybe he'll get the message this time around."

"Everly, why don't you make some tea? This won't take long," Eden announces, and she sets down the exact same things Daniel had used to stitch up the back of my head. Some dark thread, a sharp looking needle, and a syringe filled with something clear. "I'm going to numb it, and as soon as it kicks in, we'll get you fixed up. Then you guys can go home."

"What about Forrest's party?" I feel a flash of raw, heavy guilt over the party being ruined, but Eden shakes her head. "We were right in the middle of it."

"I think you all had enough partying for tonight. He was more upset Landon wanted to fight you. He only invited him to be polite." Eden's fingers return to my head, and she pushes my hair back. "Forrest is very happy you were there."

"Sure," I shrug. "I was…happy to be invited."

It's a rare moment of honesty for me.

Eden smiles at my words, and her fingers slide through my hair, pushing it back over and over. It doesn't stay. It's unruly, given the fight and the length, and her actions make me uncomfortable.

They're motherly.

I'd watched her fix Zander's hair the same way, trying to coax it into place, with all the care and patience in the world.

She does it over and over, until I inform her I can't feel my eyebrow.

Johanna's smile is serene

There's something about her that unnerves me. She's almost too peaceful, like absolutely nothing can bother her, and I'm sure it's enviable for everyone here.

I find her a little too naĂŻve.

I also find her a little too pushy, as she nudges a handful of papers in my direction and instructs me to sign them.

"What are they?" I scrawl my name on the first one, agreeing that I, Eric Coulter, have willingly chosen to reside in the Amity faction. It looks more official than I would imagine they would use here, but I go with it. I sign the second and third page, initialing my spot in the rankings –first –and ranking my time here by instructor. I give everyone ten out of ten; the names listed are Howard, Jerry, Hank, Daryl, May, and Carole. I consider giving Carole a lower score, but then I remember she knows where I live.

"Just protocol," Johanna smiles brightly, and beside her, Everly watches carefully.

She had explained the paperwork was normally dropped off and filled out at our convenience, but Johanna wanted to see me, so mine would be done in her office. It is lofty and warm; the room smells like hay and horse feed, and it's empty except for Everly and myself. We'd walked here together, and Everly told me she'd already filled hers out.

I look up to catch her green eyes glued to me, making sure I sign everything. I'd caught a glimpse of hers, her signature on every page, and even on a few spots on the same forms I'm signing. I wonder if she's here as a witness, or maybe each transfer needs someone to vouch for them. There's a strange look on her face when I pause on the middle page, and she turns to look up at Johanna. Johanna looks back with a soft, approving grin, and I have the odd feeling I'm agreeing to having thirteen children.

"What's this one?" I ask suspiciously, on alert when it has all sorts of required information. I fill it out quickly while I wait for an answer, but I hesitate at the very bottom. There's a spot for my name, a witness, and someone else's name. There's an address I don't know, more or less a house number and some vague, made up section name where the street name would go, and Everly's signature beside it. The letters are pretty, loopy and large compared to mine. "Why does this one need multiple signatures?"

"It's to make sure you weren't coached on how to fill it out or otherwise persuaded. If anyone were to question your desire to be here, we have written proof," Johanna answers. "If you have any concerns, you can fill it out later."

"Or just sign it now and be done with it," Everly offers helpfully, and I look up from the paper.

She looks lovely.

Today's outfit is just like the others –a darker dress, more fitted, less poufy, and long black hair not pinned up or twisted around her head. Her shoes are the same ones I'd set my boots next to –pretty and far smaller and simple –and her eyes are bright. She's familiar, but not; I know a lot about her, but at the same time, almost nothing. Even though she'd confessed plenty of things to me, she herself is fairly guarded.

Since my fight with Landon, she'd been tight lipped about everything.

We'd gone to bed quietly with each other, and she'd looked at the stitches above my eyebrow. The dark mark is a slice I'm not thrilled with. It is stark; thick thread at an angle, neatly stitching my skin back together thanks to Eden's work. Everly had stared at it for a minute while we were in bed, and her fingers gently pressed around it. She wasn't mad I'd gotten into a fight with Landon, and there was some relief to her posture. I could see it in her shoulders, the way they weren't so tense and tight, and I wonder if she cared he'd been asked to leave.

Odds are, we'll see him again.

But for a few days, the faction was quiet, and she and I existed happily, safe in bed and away from him and everyone else.

"If you sign it, we can go home for lunch," Everly offers, as though we were going somewhere else. Today's plans were zilch. Johanna had wanted to meet with us and we'd been given a time to show up. So far, all I'd done was sign paperwork and listen to someone downstairs try to goad a horse into being brushed. "Or we could go see Ian."

That offer is even nicer, but Johanna shakes her head. "Everly, would you mind checking on what Judd is doing? I asked him to brush Karl, but I don't think Karl wants to be brushed. He's a little temperamental today. Maybe you can help him."

"Sure," Everly agrees easily, and she looks at the paperwork one more time. Her eyes find mine, and her smile is smug. "I'll see you when you're done."

I don't answer her.

I stay with the pen poised on the document, and she stays still. Everly doesn't move until I sign my name on the line, and only then does she leave. Johanna watches the whole thing silently, observing the interaction. She smiles wider when she slides another paper at me, and this one requires only her and my signature.

I skim it quickly, mildly surprised even though I knew this was coming.

"You want me to work with you? You're going to train me on how to lead the Amity faction?" I don't hesitate to sign because I can't see myself doing anything else here. The idea of leadership is something I've associated with only the Dauntless faction, but I've come to accept leadership anywhere could be beneficial. I'd be stupid to turn this down, especially since my options here are limited. "Is this a trick?"

"No, it's not a trick, Eric. We know you have great potential." Johanna pauses, and she waits for me to finish the rest of the paperwork. "I've spoken with some of the others, and we can't picture anything else for you. Unless of course, there's another area where you'd rather work."

"No," I shake my head, and I flip through the pages to make sure I've signed everything. "There's nothing else. I'm not really a fan of some areas."

"I figured."

Johanna lapses into silence as she takes the pages from me. My signature is on each one, neat and carefully written, yet always by Everly's.

"Thank you. You can start next week."

"What?" I stare at her in confusion, having no real idea how long initiation runs. Time in Amity existed in a vacuum. I felt like I'd been with Everly for a lifetime, yet it wasn't that long ago that I showed up here. "What about –"

"I think you've found your place here. There's no need to keep you busy. It's time for you to learn how the faction really works." Johanna smiles at me and her expression makes me incredibly suspicious. "After the celebration, of course."

"The celebration of what?" I cock my head at her, and I try to figure her out.

I can't.

Every faction is led by someone close to her age. I'm far younger than she is, and I can't think of anywhere that would allow such a young leader. Dauntless would have been a fluke. Even if Rylan did become a leader, he would be surrounded by others who had years of experience on him.

My rise to power here would surely raise a few eyebrows, perhaps more than it would have in Dauntless.

"You'll see."

This time, she sits on my lap with her legs on each side of me.

Her eyes are dark as they take in her mother's work –neat stitches, almost identical to the ones she'd pulled out of my head not too long ago –and her fingers touch everywhere. They skim possessively over my temples, down my cheekbones, and along my jaw. When she's satisfied nothing else is broken or cut, she smiles.

"I know this goes against everything we believe in here, but I'm glad you punched him."

I smirk back at her, my shirt slipping off her shoulder and her hair spilling everywhere, and I remember the first time I met Everly. She'd crashed right into me and introduced herself. She'd held onto me after she tripped, and never once did she seem to think she shouldn't touch me.

Just like now, her fingers follow my collarbone to my shoulder.

"He's got quite the obsession with you," I remind her pettily, hating that he even liked her. "He said I'll ruin you."

Her eyes return to mine with a shake of her head. Her lips turn downward, falling into a pretty scowl. "I saw him in the morning. He was waiting for me, and he kept saying we had to talk. He said someone told him about Ashley and how she was better suited for you than me. He did say he knows they'll get you to Dauntless by winter. He said…he said someone knows someone who works with your mom and that's what they heard."

"Sounds incredibly reliable," I mutter, having no desire to go anywhere. Outside, the air is cold, and inside, it's warm and pleasant. Everly shifts forward, balancing carefully. "I don't believe I can just show up in a faction I don't belong to and demand to be made a leader there. I feel like someone might object. Like the initiates…. or the soldiers… or the entire faction."

"Yeah," Everly chews on her lip, and her eyes follow the path of my arm. She traces my bicep, then down my forearm. "Forrest is really sorry about the party. He said he never meant for anyone to fight. But…his friends are impressed. Lacey said she'd marry you and you aren't even her type."

My snort of laughter is loud in the quiet house. "Funny. As nice as the offer is, I think I can only handle one wife."

Everly's stare moves back to mine, and I reach for her. I touch the bottom of her shirt, well, my own shirt, and I slide my hand beneath until it touches her side. I pull her closer, until she's right in front of my chest. Our size difference has never been more apparent than now, and her breathing picks up as my fingers skim higher.

I reach her ribcage, then the soft curves swallowed by the worn fabric of a borrowed shirt.

"I never did anything with him. I never even liked him. I told him over and over –" she stops when my nose brushes hers, and our lips meet before she can explain any further.

I don't care.

I wouldn't care if she'd once liked him enough to consider marrying him. I have her, on my lap, with her fingers slipping past my cheeks and into my hair, and her weight shifting forward. I have her against me, small and warm and completely willing to let me yank on the ends of her hair as I fumble to close any remaining space between us, and this is all that matters.

We stop only when there is a knock on the door, and the banging is intense. Whoever it is, they are desperate to get a hold of one of us.

Everly pulls back with great annoyance, and her sigh is immediate.

"Before you announce we're moving, I'll get it. It's for me."

"How do you know?" I stare down at her, not wanting her to slide off my lap and head downstairs, but she doesn't give me a real answer. She evades my question altogether, with a shrug that tells me she knows more than she's letting on.

"I just do," Everly unwraps herself from me, and she's careful as she climbs off the bed. "Um, it might be a bit. You can go to bed if you want."

I narrow my eyes at her. She's not entirely suspicious. Her hair is damp and clean, and she's dressed for bed, so it's unlikely she's going out somewhere. But it's clear she's meeting someone she doesn't want me to see.

For a brief second of intense stupidity, I fear it's Landon.

Then I hear a high-pitched yelp, and the frantic knocking picks up with the pace of someone who's had way too many cups of coffee.

"His name is Christian. He's here to drop off my dress for the wedding." Everly throws me a winning smile, and I tilt my head at her. "And your suit. He's coming back tomorrow for your fitting. I met him at the market, and he offered to make a dress for me for…um, he said exposure. I guess he thinks maybe he could have a clientele here. I didn't have the heart to tell him almost everyone here can sew. I told him you'd love a suit, too."

"What?" I hiss, not having agreed to wear a suit or be fitted by the hyperactive man from the market. "Everly!"

"I'll be right back. Don't come downstairs. You'll scare him. Though he did tell me he thinks you're very handsome."

She leaves on this note. She cracks up, then practically slinks out of the room before I can stop her, and I hear her throw open the door and greet him. She says his name normally, and his shrieked greeting is loud enough that I groan. I throw myself back against the sheets, sulking as the two of them gush over whatever it is he's brought, and I hear my name drift up, followed by giggling. I hear the word jacket float up, and I close my eyes.

I had assumed I didn't have to dress up for Forrest's wedding, nor would I be required to wear a suit.

I'm finding out almost every assumption I've ever had about Amity is wrong.

Christian is my worst nightmare.

He reminds me of a hummingbird, but one who sampled every single energy drink Erudite has ever manufactured. He buzzes around me so fast my head hurts, and off to the side, Forrest snickers at the scowl on my face. He winks at me, then points out Christian missed a spot, and Christian's retort to mind your business is quick.

"You are tall! Everly said you were a little taller than her, but she didn't mention how much taller." Christian moves quickly, arms through mine to measure the length, and I try to swat him away when he touches my chest. He keeps working at a rapid pace, muttering off and on numbers that make no sense to me, and my height comes up again. I stare at him, and he ignores me when I question just how tall Everly thinks I am. "Oh, and you're much fitter than she let on. I was imagining someone more like Forrest. Works out but also likes beer and nachos."

"Hey!" Forrest's snort of protest is drowned out by his laughing. "I work out daily. Sometimes twice a day."

"Uh huh."

"No one cares, Forrest. Hey, Christian. How tall did Everly tell you I am?" I focus on what's really important, and I stare at him. "You are aware she's very short, right? Did you think I was short?"

He doesn't answer me, though. At least not right away.

"I don't remember." Christian answers slickly, and he hums and mutters to himself.

After a second, he kneels down on the hardwood flooring in Forrest's kitchen and starts measuring for the pants. Every so often, he flips his hair out of his eyes. Most of it is casually spiked in long, pointy sections and the front is perfectly straight and flattened to the side. He's dressed all in black; a black fitted shirt, black pants so tight it's unlikely he'll ever have children, and pointy, shiny boots with heels that click with every hop.

To my absolute horror, I learn he lives in Dauntless.

He's not even from there. He was from Candor, and because his family didn't approve of who he was, or his affinity for flat ironing his hair, he left. He chose the last place anyone would think he'd go and went with it. I stared in horror as he told me how he jumped off the roof last, and was the shortest, smallest initiate in the class, and was outweighed by the next smallest initiate by at least thirty pounds.

Somehow, he managed to stay alive. Even better, not only had he passed their initiation by the skin of his teeth, he was now their lead designer. The man behind the uniforms the soldiers wear is about the same size as my future wife, and his specialty is not anything battle related, but sewing.

I would feel a seething rage of jealousy that he lives there and I don't, but he stabs me in the thigh trying to measure my inseam.

"Watch it!" I growl, and from the chair he's lounging in, Forrest nearly dies laughing.

"Yeah, careful over there. He'd like to have kids someday. Everly will be mad if you hurt him and she's sort of scary these days."

"How many are you having? I bet you're very…" Christian looks up at me, and his eyes are magnified behind the large frames of his glasses. He's kneeling on the floor with measuring tape between his teeth, and he tilts his head like he's sizing me up. "…productive."

"That's it. Get away from me." I move back, and my irritation at everyone reaches a peak level when Forrest chokes on his drink in an attempt not to laugh. It's clear he's accompanied me solely to sit there and watch, and his own suit is nowhere to be found. "We aren't having any children. We enjoy the silence."

"That's what you think." Forrest calls out lazily, and he sits up straighter once Christian looks at him. "Everly's been drinking that stupid tea for years. You'll probably have twins. Maybe triplets. It happens. That's why I made sure Willow dumped hers down the drain."

"You two know I can also make children's clothing. It's not my specialty, but I can make anything in any size." Christian chimes in, and he resumes measuring my leg. "In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't and thanks but no thanks. I don't think any of my potential children need tiny suits." I exhale in heavy relief when he backs away, and he marks down a million measurements purely from memory. Forrest shakes his head, and I glare at him, finding him to be just as traitorous as his sister. "What tea are you talking about?"

"It's a fertility tea. Everyone has to drink it. Or wants to drink it. It's supposed to help you have kids. You can drink it, too. I bet someone slipped you some. You better start looking for a bigger house, as soon as you can." Forrest answers me, but he's distracted. "Hey, what are you doing later? Want to get a beer?"

"Nothing. I'd love a beer. Or maybe something stronger." I answer without any hesitation, and Forrest looks pleased. "Everly won't be home until later. Something about…shoes."

"Oh yeah, I heard about her dilemma," Forrest nods, and he resumes drinking what I can only assume is the tea he was talking about. "I saw her walking this morning."

"Yeah, she left early," I mutter, watching Christian carefully.

I wish she'd been here, because she would have been a nice buffer between Forrest and Christian, but Everly is at her mother's. She had said she was going over there early this morning, and the look on her face was mildly stressed out. She kept staring at me, especially my head, and I had the weird sensation I was missing something. I'd always prided myself on being observant, but I couldn't figure out what Everly was up to.

With my luck, it involved Zander.

"I'd love to join you for a drink. Maybe even lunch. I'm free all day!" Christian invites himself, and Forrest catches my stare.

He rolls his eyes, but invites him along anyway, making him promise the suits will be done in time.

Christian nods enthusiastically and reassures us they will be amazing.

After all, he's done with Dauntless' newest uniform, even though he absolutely loathed having to add that ugly, garish blue stripe on the arm and even worse, making them out of the heavy duty, military grade, dark fabric Jeanine sent him.

These words make my head tilt, and it's very clear the Dauntless army is heavily involved in whatever Erudite wants them to be.

Friday arrives before I'm ready.

I spend the morning doing nothing and everything. I charge my phone. Put away the clothes Everly has washed. Make a sandwich and sulk while I eat it alone. I try to read a book Hank left for me, but I can't focus.

I don't know why. I don't have any weird premonition about the day, nor do I have any real feelings toward Forrest's wedding. There's only the faint appreciation of being included and considered part of his family. He'd never once given any pushback to having a stranger live with his sister, her attachment to me, or the way our relationship unfolded. He was so happy she was happy, that he was willing to go along with whatever.

Including considering us close enough to stand up at his wedding.

"Hey, don't forget to shave. And comb your hair back. Mom said I could cut it if you wanted me to…but uh, I would suggest not having me cut it."

Forrest wanders around the bedroom Everly and I share, poking his head into any space he can. He channels Zander by going through the closet, and his nods of approval are over his own clothing hanging up. The only things that are actually mine are the shirts I purchased from the market, and the rest are his. "Hey, is this black shirt new? I don't remember having one. Maybe I did. Wait…are you sure this is yours?"

"I bought it the other day," I spit out my toothpaste, and I reach for a razor and shaving cream while listening to him rustling through my things. "Don't you have to get dressed? Shouldn't we be at your house?"

"No, no it's all good. I'm getting dressed in a minute. I'm waiting for my dad to drop off my suit." Forrest shuts the closet, and he looks disappointed in the lack of things to investigate. "Are you nervous? Or excited? Have you been to a wedding, Eric? Are you ready?"

"For what?" I call back, applying the shaving cream to my face. When I'm satisfied, I shave carefully so I don't cut myself. I can see the familiar hint of bare skin, and after weeks of not shaving, it's a funny sight. I keep going until the stubble is gone, and I splash water on my face and wipe it off. Once I comb my hair, I decide to slick it back with gel, and I wonder if he had such strict grooming requirements for all his groomsmen. "Forrest?"

"You know, for…everyone to be there." Forrest pauses in the doorway, and he eyes me intently. "You look good. Different than I remember you…but good. Everly will approve."

"Well, that's all that matters, isn't it?" I'm half joking, but we both know I'm partially serious. Her approval wasn't something I desperately sought out, but I had to admit it felt good to feel her eyes on me, like she'd murder anyone who came close. "I'm sure she'll like it either way."

I fix my hair again, smoothing it until I'm satisfied, and it's a strange sight. I don't look at all like the Eric who showed up here. Everything about me is far sharper. Despite living in Amity, where peace and goodwill won out over everything, I'm stronger than ever. There's a definition to my cheeks and jaw that most certainly was not there before, and a glint in my eye. My skin is tan. My arms are well-defined, and the shirt Forrest hands me has been sewn to emphasize this.

"I left your jacket on the bed. I'm gonna change downstairs. You need anything else?" He waits until I button up the shirt, and I shake my head. "Okay, well, meet me down there. We can't be late."

"Give me two minutes. I have to find my shoes," I yell, but he's already gone.

I stare at myself in the mirror for another second, and a black suit seems out of place. It's a bold choice considering where we are, but he insisted Christian make black suits with white shirts. I went along with it, assuming it was a nod to his father, and I didn't mind. I liked how dark it all was, but I wondered if anyone else would.

"Forrest?" I wander back into the bedroom, pulling on the suit jacket and reaching for the dress shoes he'd brought. Like everything else I have on, they are new. Shiny and stiff, and slightly uncomfortable after months of work boots. "Is Everly coming back here?"

"She's meeting us there!" He calls back, and I hear him laughing as someone else shows up. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

I tie the shoes quickly, wondering if Christian had made the shoes, too. I idly wonder what Everly is wearing. I have no real idea what she's supposed to wear. I've been to only a couple weddings. Both were in Erudite, and they were stuffy and formal and boring. Everyone was incredibly dressed up, mostly so they could one up each other, and no one really had fun. I was dragged along out of sheer duty to whatever family friend had gotten married, and it was unmemorable.

I can't even begin to guess what happens at a wedding in Amity.

"Hey! You look good man! Better than expected."

I walk down the stairs to find a slew of people milling around. Matt and Tony, Echo, Lacey, wearing a suit that matches everyone else, Ryan and Jake, and Forrest, now busy helping Zander button up his suit jacket. There's a quick flash of horror at seeing him, but it dies down when he waves solemnly, and it's clear someone has made him promise to behave.

"Hey."

There's a slight unease to seeing them all in the downstairs entryway, mostly because they aren't here for me, but it feels like they are. They mill around in identical, black suits, and each one is fairly presentable. Ryan has brushed his hair and Jake has pulled his back. Tony and Echo are helping one another fix their cuffs, and Lacey stops to help Zander tie his shoe. Even his hair is combed back, less wild and more orderly, and he's pretty serious when Lacey tells him he looks good.

He whispers Dauntless Zander, and then reaches for Forrest's hand.

"Alright, we're ready. We're all walking together. Any last words?" Forrest nudges me with his elbow, and when I glance over, I catch a blur of Zander, of silver, and everyone filing out of the house.

I shake my head no, and I follow him with a shrug.

He stabs the flower through the buttonhole on my jacket.

Forrest isn't at all nervous. Behind us, the crowd of Amity is slowly arriving and filling up every seat. I was right in my assumption this wedding would be nothing like the ones in Erudite. This one is held outside, beneath a canopy of trees and lights and flowers. Everywhere you turned, something was glittering or sparkling, and there are endless rows of chairs set up. There's a dark black runner down the middle of the aisle, and plenty of people already sitting. I smile tightly when I see Elisa and Ian arrive, and Atlas is just as dressed up as everyone else. His tiny suit matches Ian's, and he clings tightly to him as they pick out seats.

"Are you nervous?" I ask, ignoring the way Forrest is still fixing my jacket, unhappy with how the flower is. I have the urge to push him away, but there's too many people around. To the side of me, the rest of his friends have vanished. Jake and Ryan had walked us up here, then promised they'd be right back. "Where is Willow?"

"Eric, I have something to tell you. I don't want you to be mad, but I haven't been honest with you." Forrest fixes the collar of my jacket again, and then once more. The action is needless, but it's a distraction for him. It also prevents me from punching him in the face for whatever he's about to say. "You like Willow, right?"

"Sure."

I'd met her once. She seemed fragile; overwhelmed by his large family, nervous, and she barely spoke.

In my book, she was just fine.

He had enough family members who were loud, so it made sense he fell for someone who wanted to live with him and him alone.

"And you like Everly, right?" His eyes find mine, a shade of green and brown, and he's suddenly very serious. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eden walking with May, and Jerry walking with Howard and Carole. Behind them, I see a flash of familiar blue, and a woman walking carefully in matching blue heels.

"Eric?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. I said she was pretty, remember?" I look at Forrest, then back at the people trying to pick seats, but the woman is gone. I focus on him, and the strange expression on his face. "Why? What's going on? Is she okay?"

He pauses, and he raises both eyebrows. "She's fine. Look, I'll just say it, but you have to promise you won't lose your shit. Do you promise? Really promise?" He waits, my lack of a nod somehow reassuring to him. "Okay, so I wanted to tell you that I love you dearly, and you're a great initiate, a good friend, and an excellent fiancé to Everly, and I'm already married. Willow and I eloped the other night. She's really shy and she kept panicking over everyone coming to the wedding, so I said fuck it. My dad married us by ourselves, down by the river, at night. It was great. Super romantic, very…secluded. Fun. But my mom…she already planned all this. And we didn't want it to go to waste."

I'm a second behind.

Not because I don't process what he's saying, but because I've realized Daniel is here, and so is Camille. The two of them are sitting right in the front now, looking around curiously. They are noticeably out of place, but only because of what they have on. His suit is royal blue, pressed and expensive, and her dress matches him. They wave at Ian and Elisa, and Daniel points at Atlas on Ian's lap, explaining who the little boy is.

Camille's eyes light up, and when she glances back at both Hank and Harrison waiting at the end of the aisle, everything clicks into place.

"I thought…if I wasn't going to be having a wedding, you should. We invited your mom and dad. Your mom declined. Your dad responded immediately. Um, he brought a date but we didn't ask questions, only if they wanted chicken, steak, or the vegetarian entrée. Oh, and your friends are here. They're with Everly right now."

"This is for me? For Everly and me? We're getting married right now?" I stare at Forrest, not sure I'm hearing him correctly.

All around, the Amity faction comes together to celebrate. The sudden appearance of Christian made sense. Everly's mother probably could have made her a dress, but this was something special for her. They'd promised to make it up to her if she stayed, and they were, by giving her a wedding. I would have normally felt duped or tricked, considering I was now certain what I'd signed in Johanna's office was a marriage certificate for census purposes, but I don't.

I feel a flash of appreciation, in the weirdest way possible, and a rush of possessiveness when Jason and Rylan show up. They're walking with Sophia and Courtney, all parties looking lovestruck and enamored, and they wait at the end of the rows. I realize the wedding party is lining up, and there's a low murmur as the sun sinks just enough to cast a golden glow over everyone. Johanna watches from the side, walking along with Daryl, and her smile is proud.

She takes a seat with him, near the end of the aisle, and before I can blink, Forrest pats my arm. I realize he's hugging me, and he holds on tightly.

"Promise me you'll take care of her, forever. I'm pretty sure she's loved you since she crashed into you. And, I like you best out of all my brothers. Don't tell them."

The word love is jarring.

I recoil as the music starts, the band from Forrest's bar playing something not horrific, and the wedding is under way. There is no chance for me to back out, and nowhere to go. I don't even get the chance to answer him or point out I'd never proposed to his sister. It takes me a few seconds to realize he has the ring I bought from Saul, and he was in on it the whole time. Forrest steps to the side with a grin, and gestures for Zander to join him. They both wait beside me, and the procession of the wedding party begins.

One by one, they walk down the aisle in pairs. Each girl has a crown of flowers placed upon her head, and each partner has a matching flower through his lapel. Rylan keeps looking at Courtney out of the corner of his eye, and I have to admit, they look nice together. Her blonde hair is longer than his, but his fits in here. Jason's works, too. He and Sophia hold hands, and it looks painful when he lets go to stand by Forrest.

"Congratulations. I told everyone I'm the best man and godfather of your future children. Oh, and Lacey needs to step off. I told her I know more about you than she does." Rylan whispers this frantically as he passes me to take his place behind Forrest. "Also, just wait till they put that crown on your head. Thank God I brought my phone."

"What?" I jerk my head in his direction, and Forrest laughs.

"Relax. It's for like, two seconds. Also, your future wife is almost here."

It's hard for me to focus on everything as the next wave of people walks down the aisle. I normally would have walked away. I'd proven I made my own decisions, and this was one I had not made. Being blindsided isn't something I like, but I don't want to leave.

I know this because I haven't moved.

I'm standing here, waiting to see Everly.

As the music continues, I'm aware of Lacey, proudly coming up to stand by me, and of Everly's younger brothers and sisters walking in my direction. I keep my composure when Daniel looks up at me with a funny stare, and when I look past him, I know why.

Everly looks nothing like Everly.

There's a moment of supreme and total acceptance when I see her. Gone is the tiny girl in dresses meant for someone else –someone taller, someone larger, someone not her –and in her place is the girl who knew what she wanted out of life. The girl who'd made it her mission to get close to me, who I might have run into had we both picked Dauntless, and the girl who was as fearless as they came.

Her dress is pink.

I smirk at the color, at the sheerness of it and the way it moves with each step, and how it looks against her skin.

It's not at all like anything she's ever worn before. Christian's words must have struck a nerve because this dress is fitted. It's low cut, so low cut I'm not sure how it's staying in place, and the skirt fans out to reveal a slew of pretty, cut out and carefully applied flowers. Her hair is braided around her head and down to one side. The flowers in her hair are not a crown, but woven into the braid, and they match her dress.

She looks completely different.

Happy. Glowing. Far prettier than I'd confessed to everyone. Stunning, because everyone is staring at her like they've never seen her before, and there are some appreciative murmurs of how beautiful she looks.

Time stands still for an eternity.

I watch her walk with ease, with a grace and elegance she didn't possess when she climbed over me in bed. I watch her stare only at me, her shoulders back and her eyes forward, and I know she's hoping I won't call this off at the last second. It was a bold move to marry me without asking. Our signatures are sitting side by side on a marriage certificate in Johanna's office, and it had been clear Everly's interest wasn't just in me signing my initiation paperwork.

It's an even bolder move when our eyes meet, and Everly smiles with a hint of pride at pulling this off.

She walks down the aisle with both Harrison and Hank, and they are equally proud of her. They have different reasons to be, but plenty of the same ones, too. They each have her by the arm, and in her hands are a bouquet of oversized, pink and white and dark red flowers.

Everly's eyes search mine as they near the end of the aisle, and the only hesitation in them is that Zander has noticed Harrison. He wiggles and steps on Forrest's foot to get away and over to his father, but Forrest is faster. He catches him and makes him wait while Harrison hugs Everly for a long time, one hand on her head crushing her to him, then he lets go. He looks back at her once, smiles, then reaches down to pick up Zander. He walks him over to Eden, and it's Hank's turn to hug Everly.

I think back to Landon's words about how she wanted to get away from him and how unhappy they both were, and I don't see it. All I see is a father who loves his daughter, and a daughter who loves her father. She hugs him tightly, maybe even tighter than she hugged Harrison, and it takes her a second to let go.

When she does, she takes a few steps toward me, pausing for a second to really look at me.

"I'm Everly."

"Eric."

The day we first met feels like a thousand lifetimes ago. I can hear her introducing herself after she crashed into me, and the way she'd stuck by me, unafraid of the look on my face. I can even feel her small hand on my arm, keeping her balance as we walked up the stairs, and how her fingers curled into my shirt to steady herself. I think of Forrest saying how she'd loved me since then, and I can only think of one word: impossible.

Love is stupid.

I'd witnessed firsthand that the only thing love brought you was a whole lot of misery. Harrison loved Eden and Everly, and he destroyed them every time he left. Hank loved Eden, and he got to be second in her life, no matter how hard he tried. Then there were Blythe and Daniel, who probably had loved each other at some point, until things spiraled to where they are now.

Forrest should know there is no reason for Everly to love me.

I haven't done anything. I haven't changed her life or rescued her or saved her from some brute trying to kill her. I haven't proven anything to her. I've simply lived with her, and fallen asleep next to her, out of exhaustion and contentment that she was there.

But when she looks at me, dark green eyes and pretty lips turning up in a smile, I think that maybe she might love me.

Maybe I don't believe I deserve it or, I can't recognize it.

But I'm not willing to risk not knowing.

When she's only a few feet away from me, I step closer to her, reaching out my hand and taking hers in mine. I pull her close to me, I realize I don't need to do anything to earn her love, because that's not who she is. She doesn't need me to save her nor is she pretending her life is incomplete without me. She is happy to accept me for the Eric I've always been, and she will continue to do so.

All she asks in return is that I care about her.

And I do care about her. More than I could ever let her know.

Which is why, twenty minutes later as the faction looks on, I smugly announce that I do take her as my wife. I keep her fingers through mine, and I let go only to take her face in my hands.

"By the power invested in me, Forrest, best brother in law ever, I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride so we can get this party started."

Married as the sun turns a spectacular shade of pink, at the age of nineteen, with a heavy crown made of antlers instead of flowers, I kiss her.

I take her face in my hands, curling them into her dark hair and the pink flowers dotting the black strands, and I take a good look at her. I take in every feature on her face, and when I'm sure I've memorized her, I press my lips to hers. In my hands, she is still small, but hardly so. She fills every inch of what I've been missing, every part of me that's longed for someone to simply want to be around me, and every need I didn't know I was missing out on.

This connection to her is powerful.

The feeling goes on for minutes, hours, days, as she kisses me back –soft, cold lips against my own, pressing firmly as she grins in triumph. Her own hands are in my hair, one giant, oversized ring on her finger gleaming in the light, and one matching, dark band on my finger, and there is the faint sound of clapping. Of people cheering their congratulations, yelling our names, and the roar of approval.

I break away from Everly slowly, then immediately return to kiss her again.

I forget everything except her.

This surprise wedding isn't at all what I thought, and there's a dreamlike quality to hearing us announced as the newest Mr. and Mrs. Coulter who live in Amity, but I don't care.

For once, happiness is mine, and I hold onto it as tightly as I can, unwilling to deprive myself for even a second.

"Were you ever going to tell me I was already married?"

I recline back in the chair with Everly against my chest as she carefully eats a piece of cake. It's sugary and sweet; we'd cut it not long ago, and to the delight of Zander, it's chocolate. Everly and I were each served a piece. I took a single bite of mine and pushed it away, and she leaned against me in blissful delight, eating her cake as the reception continued right along.

Our marriage is the best surprise I could have asked for.

There's a large part of me that wants to be horrified by all this. The reality of my situation is I'm currently living in Amity, married to a girl I met in line at the Choosing Ceremony, willing to risk having a few kids in order to fit in, all under the guise of pissing off my family. I should be abhorred. I should be thinking how wrong this all is, how so unlike the path I was promised, how ridiculous the very thought of it is.

But now, beneath twinkling lights and cheerful talk drifting around us, it's hard to remember why I never wanted this. It's hard to remember why I was so angry, or what my family had done to drive me here. In fact, the idea of them is fuzzy, like a bad dream I'm trying to shake. Blythe hadn't shown up, and Daniel and Camille are currently sitting with Ian and Elisa and no one is throwing anything. Camille is holding Atlas, smiling and carefully sneaking him a few bites of her cake, and I know things are good.

Undeniably good.

It's a euphoric feeling, a high I don't think I can ever duplicate.

Though the feeling of Everly's hand on my inner thigh isn't half bad.

"Maybe," Everly giggles, slightly tipsy off the champagne and wine and the lush rush of sugar from her dessert. She glances up at me out of the corner of her eye, and there is no way on Earth I'd have been able to tell her no. Even now, I shift in my chair, and her fingers creep dangerously higher. "Maybe after we moved. I just… I didn't want to wait anymore. There's no point."

She's not wrong.

I smirk down at her and her now slightly messy hair, and my fingers dig into her side. Despite this soiree being far from anything I'd ever approve, I like it. We'd walked down the aisle with everyone watching and clapping, and I ditched the heavy crown once Harrison snapped a single photo. He pulled me aside to whisper a hasty congratulations and thanked me for allowing him to see his daughter get married. He patted my arm hard, then bent down to kiss her cheek before someone else ambushed us for a hug.

I didn't bother to remind Harrison I'd never proposed. It's now a secret joke between Everly and me, one she points out when someone refills our drinks and tells us congratulations.

"When would you have asked me to marry you?" Everly sets her fork down, done with the large, sugary flower frosting. "Soon?"

"Oh, well I was planning on asking you today, but you got ahead of yourself. I was going to suggest something bigger. Maybe…with a few more fires and multiple bands playing. I was thinking I'd ask Carole to plan it," I answer with mock enthusiasm, and she puts her head back on my chest. Her hands find mine, and she toys with the band on my finger. She slides it around and around, and her tiny fingers hold more possessiveness than anyone would ever know. "I suppose this works."

She laughs softly, and there's the same pull of wanting to go somewhere quiet radiating from her. I've liked this about her, and I like it even more now. "My dad said he got our house set up for us. They moved in a bunch of stuff this morning. He's really excited for us."

"I bet he is," I answer off handedly, glancing out at Rylan, leading Courtney away from the reception. The sight makes me smirk, but only because I know him well. His smile is slick and enthusiastic, and I know what Courtney is in for the next ten minutes of her life. "Are you ready to move?"

"Yeah," Everly agrees, and she shifts closer. Her hair smells really good, and under the lights, she glows. "I've been ready for a while."

"Me too."

We lapse into silence as she toys with the ring for a few more seconds, the congratulations flowing as freely as the wine. Almost everyone in Amity comes by to say hello, and a few of the younger boys wander over with a weird look of awe. May and Jerry are amongst the latter of our guests, and rather than a hug or some nice words, May smacks my arm and hisses not to forget to schedule another meeting.

I glare up at her, and once I agree, she bends down to hug me.

It's quick.

As quick as Jerry's hug, though his is tight and comes with another apology about Landon.

She leaves with a whispered warning that she's looking forward to getting to know me, and I throw her a wry smile.

I don't hate any of this.

I look down at Everly, her head in the middle of my chest again as she hands her plate to the man collecting them, and her cheeks are pink. She looks alive, content and happy and ready to move on from living each day knowing she'd be expected to babysit. She turns to throw me a pretty grin, and I wrap my arms around her.

"Come here. And before you even ask, no. You cannot join the army."

Everly scowls, and the night continues, more dessert, more music, a bonfire so large it appears to engulf the other one, and I can't imagine being married any other way.

By the time the fireworks go off, I've observed all kinds of things.

I observe Ian and Elisa deep in conversation with Daniel and Camille. Elisa had looked confused for a moment, and Ian shook his head, waving his hand around dramatically. Daniel's face tensed for a single second, and I wondered if they were talking about Blythe. The look was gone as quickly as it came; Daniel smiled brightly, and he leaned closer to Camille, until his leg touched hers.

I watched Carole and Howard help pass out a second round of dessert. Carole observed everything with a pinched look on her face, but it softened every so often. She gave Zander a second and third piece of cake –a terrible decision –and somehow, she seemed less frightening as she carefully cleaned up flower petals and straightened out the napkins.

There were other things that didn't escape my stare: Leif, critiquing the décor as though it had personally wronged him, Wesley, avoiding the advances of a girl who'd been gazing at him all night and was trying to get him to go look at the stars, and Paisley and Holly, staring at me as though they were trying to figure out something. Forrest and Willow, one looking thrilled to be here and the other watching her worst nightmare unfold before her very eyes. Hank, talking with a woman I don't know, and looking confused as she talked about something other than plants.

Daryl, smoking something while he sat at the very last table, winking when my stare found him.

Johanna, throwing him a disapproving look but doing nothing to stop him.

And finally, Four, sitting with Tris, looking like someone had tricked him and promised him he was going anywhere but a wedding in Amity.

It was interesting.

All of it.

Even now, as the fireworks keep going –pink, pink, darker pink, and finally some red –I find some gratitude in the people coming to celebrate with us. Everly leans back, resting her weight against me, and her head cranes upward. She's kicked off her shoes, the pink high heels with fancy bows on them, and she's back to her normal height. We stand with everyone as the fireworks burst, and all of Amity looks impressed. I'm not entirely sure they should be impressed, but I admit the sight is something cool to watch.

If anything, it's a spectacular end to the wedding I was not expecting.

"Rylan and Jason worked hard on those," Harrison informs me, and I'm also not expecting to see him standing by me.

I'd all but forgotten he was here. I'd watched him take a seat by Eden, but I lost track of him when Hank came around to introduce us to newest assistant in the greenhouse. The man greeted us warmly, and Everly confessed she knew him, but never remembered his name. After that, I didn't see Hank for a while, not until now.

He stands not with Eden, but with the woman from earlier, pointing up at the sky as it explodes in varying shades of red.

"Are they…lighting them off?" I tilt my head, wondering if Courtney and Sophia are out there, helping them. "You sure?"

Harrison nods. He looks down at Everly, and his smile is quick and pleased. "Yeah. I saw them walking into the woods earlier. Not exactly the night their companions had planned, but they looked like they were all enjoying themselves. I bet their girlfriends were expecting something else in the woods."

"I'm sure," I snort, and Everly turns. "Did you know about this?"

"I didn't," she shakes her head, but it's hard to believe her. "I swear. I knew they were coming, but I didn't know they wanted to set off fireworks. They're pretty."

We watch them for a little longer, until Daniel and Camille wander over. For a split second, I contemplate sneering. Camille is roughly the same size as Blythe, though her hair is brown and not blonde. Both are the same height and carry themselves the same way, but that's where the similarities end. Camille is younger, arguably nicer, and her dress is a little more revealing than what Blythe would have worn. She's got Daniel's jacket on over it, and it dawns on me he's not mentioned my mother once.

Not that I thought of her much, especially as my mother.

She isn't here, and it is very clear Daniel had brought someone in her place.

"We just wanted to say our congratulations. We're going to head home. We have…" Daniel pauses, and I wait for him to say they have surgery in the morning. Paperwork. A meeting with people that can't be put off. Instead, he glances down at Camille and smiles tightly. "We actually have to be in Candor. And uh, hopefully, it'll go well. But we're very happy for the two of you."

"We are. The ceremony was lovely," Camille offers, and her expression is a little less stressed out. "Everly, it was wonderful to meet you."

"You two met each other?" I stare down at Everly's dark hair, and she elbows me. "Wow. I specifically asked for no one to be introduced."

"Hilarious," Everly retorts, and she breaks away to hug them goodbye. She has no issues reaching for Daniel, and they must have spoken at some point. He forgets she asked him how to cut through someone's skull and hugs her tightly, grasping onto the back of her head and lowly muttering for her not to drink any tea. A second later, she lets go with a huff of laughter, and moves to hug Camille.

I watch all of this with Harrison, and he silently observes the weird workings of the Coulter family.

"I'm proud of you."

I jerk my stare over to Daniel. He's looking at me intently, torn between multiple emotions. It's all over his face, the desire not to fuck this up, and I decide I'll play nice. After all, it is my wedding day, and being an ass won't win me any points with Everly.

"Thank you." I bite back the answer I really want to snap –for what? Picking a faction he loathes? Getting married at nineteen? Making my aunt furious? –and instead, I reach out my hand.

He ignores this.

Daniel steps right in front of me, and just as I hear Camille tell Everly to call her if she needs anything, he hugs me. It's tight and awkward, uncomfortable as ever, and it lasts for a few seconds too long. I stand there unmoving, until I hear him mutter a thanks for inviting him, and I decide not to tell him that was all Everly.

I nod my head, and when he pulls away, I remind him he's still supposed to come for dinner.

"Next week. I promise."

We both say goodbye, and so does Harrison. He throws out a lazy introduction that does him no justice; he announces he is a leader in Dauntless –as though the position is one of low importance – and he rolls his eyes when Daniel appears interested. Daniel tries to make the next connection, who Harrison is to Everly, and the two of them chat idly until the final fireworks go off.

The sky explodes in shades of pinks and reds, streaking until the only thing left is white. Everly returns to stand by me, and her hands find mine. I pull her back against me, for once not caring that anyone is around or watching, and we both stare as the sky lights up one more time, the grand finale bursting and fizzling as the Amity faction applauds.

Then, there is silence.

It's quick moment, heavy with honor and appreciation, before the happy murmuring starts, and people resume the celebration.

"So, do you like it?"

I look up from kicking off the dress shoes while seated on the edge of an unfamiliar bed. The house we are in is much nicer than the one we had before, and much more spacious. The bedroom is large, the bed is huge, and this one has a fireplace, currently lit up and burning. Floor to ceiling windows line the walls to the side, and the balcony is large enough to host a dinner party.

The thought of living here and being responsible for the property and how it's maintained is interesting. I like it. I like the house, I have more gratitude than ever to whoever moved our stuff, and it's a definite upgrade. Everything here is newer, nicer, less cabin in the woods and more upscale, and clearly meant for someone who holds a high position in the faction. There's some smugness to knowing Everly and I live here now, and some contentment that Ian lives close by.

It's way more private than the other one, which is exactly what tonight needs.

"I do. But I swear if anyone knocks on the door, they're getting shot." I retort and I kick off the other shoe. I look up again to see her standing before me, and my body responds before I can help myself.

It's very clear we're celebrating our marriage tonight. Eden had hugged Everly goodbye, whispered something to her, and Everly looked mortified. Even her friends' words –giggled while Jason and Rylan waited for them –made her face turn red, but she waved them off with a pleased grin, and we both know she isn't shy about going after what she wants.

But here, in this large and lofty space with only her and me, there's a hint of nervousness to her. Her posture changes, and her shoulders move back as her head tilts to look right at me.

"I was thinking…" Everly starts walking toward the bed, and my erection betrays any sense of control I have. It strains against the fabric of my slacks, painful and hard, like it knows what's about to happen. It's because of her. The pink dress, the flowers in her hair, the faintest hint of exposed skin, inches away. "I was thinking we should invite your dad over once we unpack everything. Him and…Camille."

"Don't talk about him right now," I grit out, irritated when she stops just out of my reach. I yank her closer the second I can grab her, and she comes willingly. She steps between my legs, and her eyes find mine. "Everly…"

"I hope you enjoyed tonight," she offers sweetly, and she blinks up at me, taking in my dark shirt. Her gaze drops, and when it reaches my thighs, she smiles. "It looks like you're enjoying right now."

"I am."

There's an ease to Everly that I like. Not that she's some moron or someone who'd go along with whatever was asked of her, but how unafraid she is. She reaches her arms behind her, and with some calculated wiggling, the dress shifts. A second later, she slips the top part down and she steps out of the skirt completely.

"You are…" I swallow thickly, having seen her undressed before, but not like this. Not before me, in only a pair of pink, lacy panties and nothing else. I move my hands down her side, stopping when they touch the waistband.

She's far different than Ashley. I'd only taken a few seconds to peruse Ashley's body for my own reasons; she wasn't hideous by any means, but I'd never taken the time to care. Everly is unlike her in every way. There's a slightness that offsets her breasts, a span of her hips, and pale skin that turns pink beneath each press of my fingers. There's a fragileness matched to how strong she really is, and a strength to her fingers, currently moving and unbuttoning my shirt.

I wrack my brain for a word to describe what she looks like, but it's more than that. She's more than pretty, more than beautiful, more than anything I can come up with. I trace my fingers back up her side, skimming over her skin to touch her collarbone, and her lips part.

My hands splay wide, free to really touch her.

She's never once shied away from anything between us, and she's not about to start.

"Perfect."

Everly is softer than I ever imagined. I'm not inexperienced by any means, but I suddenly feel like I am. I fumble not to hurt her as my hands move where they want, and I'm surprised by how warm her skin is. She leans in, ignoring how focused I am on the sight before me, and cool air hits my skin as she works to take the shirt off. She moves on quickly; Everly reaches for the waistband of my pants, and I rise up enough to help her take them off. They join her dress in a pile of rumpled, expertly designed and sewn clothing, and I'm sure if Christian knew, he'd be cringing.

"I stopped drinking the tea," she informs me, and her arms slide around my neck, closing the space between us. "I don't want to drink it. I gave Courtney the one my mom brought me. I just…I don't want thirty-seven kids."

"Me either," I pull her onto my lap, and she steadies herself as my mouth finds her neck. My teeth sink into salty, warm skin. She tilts her head to give me better access and there's a sigh of relief when she realizes we're in agreement. There's another sigh when I bite down, and she digs her nails into my shoulders.

I smirk into each mark I leave behind, red and wet but not permanent, and my hands skim her back. They slide down, cupping beneath her ass to pull her further toward me, and my cock twitches. "Where would we put them all?"

"Downstairs," she mumbles, and it's obvious she's a million miles away.

Her hands slip into my hair, nails scraping my scalp as she digs them in. She's in no real hurry, and neither am I.

Tonight is different.

It's not the bathtub, nor is it her hands down my boxers, though I wouldn't mind that. The night feels important, like a day we've both been expecting, and now that it's here, neither of us really want it to be over too soon.

It might be why I drag my mouth down her neck, across her collarbone, to the other side. Why her hands eventually leave my hair to skim down my chest, and my own hand returns to her side. I do my best not to hurt her, because on my lap, she's far more vulnerable than she was in the bathtub. Even lying beside her in bed is deceiving; she's half my size, and each soft whimper is a reminder that I could knock her off me and shove her onto the bed without much thought.

I think about this when I cup her breasts, her hands joining mine as I squeeze gently, and her feet press against my shins. I think about it when she touches me, her hand snaking down lower, grazing over my abs and down to the waistband of my boxers.

There's a moment of disbelief when she takes hold of me, and by now, she's figured out what works. I close my eyes for the first few strokes, and her grip is pleasingly familiar. She works her hand up and down the length of me, occasionally brushing the head, and a smile toys at her lips.

"Eric…"

"Everly…"

Her name comes out rough; pulled from deep within, grunted as she twists her wrist and strokes just a little faster.

Each stroke starts a new burn, hotter than the first, and I distract myself. I move to her underwear, a pair I've never seen in the dresser we share, and her breathing changes when my fingers trail down to the inside of her thigh. She squirms, and I make her wait a few seconds before I shove the underwear aside. They're thin and flimsy, and her low mutter that they could rip is all the confirmation I need that they're meant to be worn only once.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Everly?"

I say her name lowly, and her fingers tighten around me. My hips snap forward to urge her on, and this is far better than going to bed as roommates who occasionally touch each other. The idea of her as my wife is very appealing, and it's a situation I never once thought about. I like it, more than I'm willing to let myself admit, and I like her. I slide my fingers until they touch right where she wants them, warm and wet and swollen, and I realize getting married could be a very good thing.

There's a wave of logic that comes from nowhere, but one that prompts me to lay my claim on her.

I scoot us back on the bed, and she lets go of me to steady herself.

"Yeah…I am. I….um…" Her lips part to say something else, but I resume touching her, exploring before she can finish her sentence. I like the way her eyes close with each circle of my fingers, then fly open when I stop to pull her underwear down. "I haven't…I haven't done this…"

"Come here," I demand, and her eyes blink at the authority in my voice. She watches me, then yanks the underwear down, tossing it aside. "Higher."

Everly obliges.

She keeps her eyes on me, settling right where I want her. Her legs are on each side of me, and my wife sits on my lap, naked and willing. One of her hands returns to my cock, and she works up and down, while I do the same. The room is quiet except for the soft, uneven breathing, and it quickly increases when we both prove incapable of not touching the other. The burn in my legs turns hot and I can feel Everly hovering between coming on my fingers and hanging on.

I try to slow it all down.

I sit up to press my lips to hers, and it's the first time I've kissed her since we've arrived home. I regret not doing it sooner, because her lips part immediately, and the kiss soon turns frantic. Her tongue touches mine, far less tentative than the last time, and her hands find my face. She lets out a squeak of surprise when I yank her up onto her knees, and she hovers over me for a second like the world's most tantalizing prize.

I'm so close to being inside her it's torturous. She whimpers when my tip grazes her; there's a frantic desperation to the noise, and it turns low and rough when I grasp her hips and pull her down on top of me.

For a blurry second, my brain had decided this would be better for her.

I hadn't given a shit about Ashley and what she liked, but it's very important that Everly enjoy this.

She does.

After her initial gasp of delight, along with some surprise and a second of getting used to this, she shoves me back. She kisses me furiously, lips crashing into mine until she's had enough, and then she leans back and groans. Her hips work on their own, moving forward as she works to find what feels good, and I know exactly when she finds that spot. Everything is slick. Wet. An indescribable feeling of being inside my wife, while she gasps my name. Her nails scratch where they can –my chest, my arms, my thighs –and they claw painfully when I reach between her legs.

I watch her eyes shut, and it's almost too much to see her. Her cheeks are streaked with pink, not from embarrassment but from the blood rushing through every last nerve. My hips speed up to match hers, and the feeling of being buried inside Everly is better than anything I've ever experienced before. I'd never fucked Ashley like this. I'd always been too paranoid she'd wind up pregnant and tied to me forever, so I made sure there was no way for her to get pregnant. I'd failed to see any sort of condoms here, and as far as I knew, the tea Everly had been sipping wasn't any form of birth control.

I think back to my conversation with Christian, and my eyes widen.

"Eric…" Everly must be thinking the same thing because she slows her pace for just a second, long enough to gasp out that she's not on anything. "I didn't…I don't have…"

Someone, somewhere, must have told her if she had sex, there was a chance she'd get pregnant. Even with this knowledge, she doesn't seem to be interested in stopping, and I nod up at her, having known this was coming.

I'd never longed for a child.

I'd never wanted to be anyone's father, nor did I think I'd be great at it.

But I have a promising job here, and I had agreed to their way of life. A baby would be expected at some point. Maybe it won't happen right away, and maybe we'll get some time to be with each other before it does happen. It's inevitable, and right now, it no longer seems like something horrific.

It seems almost appealing.

In a weird, permanent sort of way.

I sit up to kiss her, moving her hair off her face and nudging her nose with my own, and my smile is lazy. I kiss her hard, until she touches my cheek and her hands move up the back of my head, and I decide that no matter what happens, I will always have her. I will never let anything come between us, and I will do everything in my power to make this work.

Happiness can be mine, because it is. It's right in front of me, slowly drawing out my name as she fights not to give in.

"I can take care of you. I promise." I kiss her once more, thrusting harder as she wiggles against me, and I know she's close. I can feel every single inhale and gasped exhale. Her fingers falter and slip, and I move my hand back to where it was. "I…I…"

"Fuck, Eric," she whispers, and before I can admit that what I feel for her might actually be love, maybe, in a weird universe where I am both capable and worthy of such valiant emotions, she comes.

The sensation is overwhelming for her and it only makes everything hotter and wetter for me. She tightens around me, riding out wave after wave of pure, absolute pleasure, and I come right after her. I had plans to stop myself so we could draw this out, but there's not a chance in hell. Everything in me tightens and tenses until I can't take it anymore, and the burst of euphoria makes my vision blur. For a few blinding seconds, there is absolutely nothing except the warm, sticky sensation of goodness. I open my eyes to realize I've come hard, and my thrusts are out of a pure determination not to stop.

"Eric…" She mutters, and Everly's arms loop around my neck as she leans forward, sated and completely spent. "I'm…"

I lean us both back, keeping her against my chest, as her breathing slows.

"Are you okay?" I touch her hair gently, stroking down to her shoulders, then her back. She nods, and her eyes stay shut. "Okay."

I'm overcome by a wave of exhaustion. It's the letdown from the burst of dopamine, and it's a cruel trick. My cock twitches, still buried in her, and it promises a second round if she'll just start moving again. But I'm tired, especially after learning I was getting married and spending the evening celebrating and coming to terms that my life here is now permanent.

It's fine.

Really.

We make up for it a few hours later, when she lies beneath me with her legs bent up and her eyes on mine, and I thrust into her again. This time, it's a little more forceful, and a little less controlled. I lose track of her saying my name, but she arches her back and goads me on. Her hands stay on my face, occasionally touching my hair or the edge of my shoulder blade, and she's pressed back into my pillow with each jerk of my hips.

The collision is intense. There are faint marks on her skin from my hands, but more out of a desperation to be closer to her than anything else. Her lips are swollen, her hair is a mess, and her eyes are half hooded, drunk on this turn of events.

She's lovely; a burst of hot stars exploding beneath me, causing me to catch fire right along with her.

By the time the stars settle, we fall asleep for real, just as the sun is just beginning to break. I've lost track of how many times she's groaned my name. I close my eyes once she's against my chest, and my grip on her is tight.

It stays that way until I wake up, arms around her and legs between hers, my subconscious afraid she'll be gone when I open my eyes.

She's not.

She's right there; buried half beneath me, her own fingers curled possessively against my skin. Her ring catches the sneak of sunlight, casting a dazzling array of colors over both of us, and she shifts slightly when I touch her hair.

I stay still for a while, until I start to drift back off to sleep, and I think of how a single decision has changed my entire life for the better.

The envelope arrives a few mornings later.

I open it while Everly makes coffee; it's thick and dark, and the writing is elegant cursive beneath the Erudite logo. I chew on my cheek while I read the congratulations: lengthy, pompous, and insincere. There is a heavy black card enclosed, and Jeanine's words make me decide to find May the second I can.

I've enclosed what I know will help you in the future. Enjoy your next few months.

"How many did you lose?"

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, looking at the kid before me. He's no older or younger than me. He might even be my age, because I don't remember seeing him in any of the classes I'd attended. I squint when he doesn't answer, and my unfriendly stare is not at all what he's expecting.

"I think six, maybe seven. I really don't know. The turn was really quick and the roads are getting slick. I can go rebox them. I take full responsibility." He answers me evenly, not without a faint hint of fear, and I understand.

I'd been working with Johanna for a few weeks now. The winter had set in, but not quite, and the first snowfall had managed to hold off. The days had become much shorter; they spanned short bursts of sunlight, then faded to cold darkness. I spent my days with Johanna, learning everything from water treatment and maintenance, to how the kitchens run. I trained with the army. I walked the farthest border of Amity, to where the heavy fence was patrolled by Dauntless soldiers and mapped out each boundary. I spent days with Harrison, off and on, learning which cameras worked and which ones didn't, avoiding his hints about being ready for a grandchild.

I even got Carole to oversee a small group of initiates interested in learning how to start their own chicken farms.

All in all, I've been busy. I wouldn't say I'm thriving here, but I'm doing fine. Every so often, doubt creeps up when I'm told about a missing sheep, a crumbling treehouse, or a factionless man wandering in looking for work. I do thrive in making the decisions Johanna can't. She never wanted to be solely responsible for the faction, so she hands these situations to me, and lets me handle them with complete confidence.

At nineteen, I wasn't sure how respected my opinion would be, but it was. I made the vast decision to hire on factionless families for the winter in exchange for protection against those who sided with Jeanine. We offered simple housing, free meals, and welcomed them willingly. I quickly learned how desperate most were to fit in somewhere, and their assimilation was seamless.

Some stayed their distance, though. Some watched from the woods, never coming too close, always staying just out of reach.

To my relief, Landon never returned, and no one really spoke of him.

I asked Jerry once, out of pure, morbid curiosity, and he told me Landon has plenty of friends who chose to be factionless. He explained there are camps set up all over, and they network to stay alive. It sounded unsafe and risky, but Jerry said they enjoy it. His assumption was Landon had joined them. He was free at last, even though Amity hardly offered many restrictions.

There are obligations to meet.

Everly and I attend every bonfire. Every party. Every single family dinner we get invited to. Occasionally, we get away with declining because I'm working or we're too tired, but our presence is required to be visible.

It is.

I now know almost all the names of my neighbors. I know the row of houses past ours. I had met several of Ian's friends, all impressed that his nephew had risen to power so quickly here, and they welcomed a logical, level-headed person in the leadership role. I got all sorts of insight and gossip on Johanna. While well liked, she is definitely much softer than I am, and less willing to take any risks.

I take lots of risks.

Including sleeping with my wife any chance I get, without much thought about what could happen. Even this morning, when she came against my face –my mouth between her legs while her fingers gripped and yanked on my hair, and again, later, beneath me with her hands back in my hair –I never once was afraid she'd end up pregnant. By an odd stroke of luck, we've somehow remained child free. It is still new and our marriage is just getting started, but I relish how nice it is to have someone like Everly. I lust after our alone time almost as much as I lust after her.

She is still perfect.

She is the exact same size, the exact same Everly, and very willing to push me down into my own bed and climb right on top of me. I find myself looking forward to the nights more than anything. Even on the bleary ones, after long days of making sure each farmer is ready for the winter or letting Zander tag along because Eden is needed elsewhere, I have Everly to go home to.

It isn't always easy.

She somehow learned to cook without burning down the kitchen, and the meals are mostly edible. She is sometimes moody, a little quiet or desperate for me to be by her, and sometimes she looks ready to punch me when I'm the one who gets to tell her Harrison has left for the week.

Sometimes, it's very easy.

We had sex in the kitchen, her tiny self on the counter, and her head smacking into luxurious, brand new cabinets. We sometimes barely make it upstairs, and sometimes, only to the stairs. I've learned a lot about how willing she is to love me, and how easy it is for her to feel appreciated.

While we get along well, I still haven't known her for very long. I do know how to read her, and that came in handy when she looked insulted I was heading out to have a beer with Jake and Ryan, or devastated if I'm too tired to do anything but kiss her goodnight. There are no major fights or disagreements. Most are minor things like, do I really think Carole would kill Howard? Why didn't I get her a phone? Why hasn't Rylan moved here yet? Don't I like the idea of letting him stay here with us until he and Courtney can have a house? Do I really want steak for dinner or am I even considering that Chloe the cow maybe doesn't want to be made into my next meal?

The best one came when I refused to tell her my favorite color.

My middle name.

Why my father hadn't brought up my mother in a month.

Where I had slept with Ashley.

Sometimes, her questions hit a nerve. They are all innocent, spoken over a breakfast of toast and eggs, with her hair down and my shirt on. I sometimes want to remind her that really, she had won. Ashley is in Erudite, assigned to work in a lab or as someone's assistant, and Everly is here with me. Even as much as she loathes the Amity faction, Ashley would swap places with Everly in a heartbeat to have her life.

When I do remind her of this, Everly's smile is always smug, but still sweet.

She knows she's pushing her luck, and I push right back.

I asked her all about Landon. Where they'd met or how the fuck she found him and his dirty hair attractive. I asked about her favorite color –snickering when she said pink and rolling my eyes when she said it could also be black –and I bugged her until she confessed her middle name also didn't exist.

At night, during the darkest hours and the most endless moments, I realized I loved her.

I couldn't tell her.

I assumed she knew. My fingers never left her, never stopped touching or grazing or tracing every inch of her. I held her close to me, ignoring the desire to fuck her into the bed until she couldn't remember my name, but sometimes coming very close. I often let her pick how we ended up, knowing full well she preferred me on top of her, so she could see my face, and never once complaining.

I gave in every time, and I couldn't say I hated a single second of it.

What I do hate is today, this very moment, when poor Josh has lost a few of the boxes being sent to Abnegation and he knows he'll have to drive them there himself.

Unfortunately for him, the air is as sharp as CeCe's knives and as gray as Abnegation's morale.

"Okay. I'll walk you out. Try to get them there before four. It's getting dark really early." I point out, rising up from the desk. I often sit where Johanna had once worked, and it's obvious she disliked working on the computer. "Just tell CeCe we'll approve the overage and make it up elsewhere."

"Are you sure?" Josh looks nervous, knowing CeCe runs the kitchens with such extreme precision she has to be from Erudite. I have yet to ask her, but I get the feeling her organization and quick thinking are the result of growing up there. "I don't want her to be mad at me."

"She won't," I promise, half lying because it doesn't matter. CeCe won't be able to say anything. Josh looks relieved, and much better than he did a few minutes ago. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"I'm alright. As long as she knows you know." Josh grins, and he gives me a mock salute. It's becoming routine here, and it makes me smirk every time someone does it in seriousness. "Thanks, man."

"Sure."

I follow him to the stairs, catching the faint sounds of familiar voices rising up, and I hesitate when my phone rings. I call out a goodbye, and I return to the desk, missing Rylan's call by seconds.

"Shit!"

He hasn't been doing so great these days. Jeanine had not only orchestrated his rise to power, but Jason's as well. The two of them finished initiation as the highest-ranking members of their class, then were immediately pushed into leading the faction. Rylan calls often, venting about how his plans were dashed when Jeanine increased his workload every time he turned around. He shirked most of it off to whoever was below him, but now that he was on her radar, it proved impossible to just walk away.

Our last phone call had included a hasty whisper of how she'd threatened him –his mom, his dad, and even the girl he'd had drinks with the other night –if she even found out he was contemplating leaving Dauntless.

So he stayed, miserable and overworked.

I shove the phone in my jacket pocket, and I head to the stairs. I take them two at a time, thinking I'll call Rylan on the walk to the kitchens, and see if Harrison can help. I see him less and less these days, something which bothers Everly to no end, but she understands. If he were in Amity more than Dauntless, it would be only a matter of time before someone noticed.

Like Jeanine.

I hit the bottom step thinking how nice it is not to have seen her in a long time, and there she is.

Standing with Blythe, right in the middle of the stables.

I blink at both, tilting my head and clenching my jaw, and the sight of them takes a second to register. Both look too formal and uptight to be standing beside the horses, and both have patient, cold smiles plastered on their face. There is nothing humane about either. I grunt out the barest hint of what could be considered a polite greeting, only because I have to.

"What do you want?"

I stop a careful distance away, immediately on alert. Neither of them could take me down if they tried, but my concern is why they are here. Jeanine is cunning and clever, and I wouldn't put it past Blythe to have come along simply to watch the show.

Neither responds right away, and instead, Blythe steps forward.

I wait for her to look back at Jeanine, but she doesn't. She looks only at me, her blonde hair perfectly straight and her coat slim and impractical for the cold weather. She steps carefully over the uneven ground, and when she stops before me, I have the immediate sense to walk past her.

I don't know where it comes from, or why, but I ignore it.

I refuse to let her think she can get under my skin.

"Well, you certainly look…very different, Eric." Blythe takes off her gloves, and there's a hint of pride buried in her tone. She eyes me up and down, and her stare is disapproving when it lands on my hair. "A little…unruly, but I suppose that's the norm around here."

"Good to see you, Blythe. You look the same. Indifferent as ever," I answer flatly. "Is there something you need?"

"Am I not allowed to say hello to my son? Jeanine and I were talking about your progress here, and she thought perhaps I'd want to see you. After all, I wasn't…available for your wedding." Blythe's eyes flash with amusement, and I should have expected this. "Where is…Everly? I've heard lots of things about her from your father. He's quite enamored with the idea of her as his daughter in law despite where she comes from."

I cock my head to the side, and behind her, Jeanine throws me one apathetic smirk.

"She's the daughter of someone important here, is she not?" Blythe presses on, unbothered by my silence. "Oh come on, tell me about your little wife. Are you really happy here? Marrying some farm girl and leading this…this…sorry excuse for a faction?"

"Why are you really here?" I stare her down, and there's a slight clink that echoes in the lofty barn. "Why now?"

"Well," Blythe pauses, and when her eyes meet mine, there is absolutely nothing behind them but expectation. "You were supposed to be elsewhere. The Dauntless faction is…experiencing some growing pains these days. I think you can understand why Jeanine is unhappy with your decisions."

"I'm sure she can handle it," I look over Blythe's shoulder at Jeanine, noticing she's a step closer now. "I have to go. I have things to do. This reunion was nice, but don't do me any favors. I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me –"

I pause.

Blythe leans in and the next thing I know, she hugs me.

It's cold and clinical, like someone has told her the proper way to hug someone, but she's never been able to replicate their instructions. One of her hands touches my back, and the other grasps onto the back of my head, shaky and unsure as she tries to hold me. Her nails scratch sharply, and I shudder when one turns painful. She relaxes immediately, murmuring a very odd, soft apology she doesn't mean.

Or maybe she does.

There's a split second of remorse radiating from her, quiet and strange, and my neck itches.

"I've already told Johanna to tell Everly I send my regards. This has been fun, but your place is among the fearless not the fearful. Johanna has promised to keep Everly safe, or at least, alive, so long as you follow through with your end of our bargain."

"The fuck are you talking about?" I shove her away, and my neck burns. I rear back, hitting the chest of someone behind me. "Fuck!"

When I whirl around, it's a blur. I rub my neck to stop the pinch, and my fingers come away with a smear of blood. I look up to see Landon standing there, watching, and his eyes flick from me, to Blythe and Jeanine. It dawns on me that he's stabbed me with something, but I have no idea what.

"Ten thousand points. Pay up, or I inject him again, and you get a mindless drone who won't even listen to you."

I stare in horror, slow, thick and increasingly hot, and Blythe steps toward him like he's a wild animal. She's cautious, and she wrinkles her nose, but she reaches into her pocket to pull something out, and when she extends her hand to him, there's a blue card in it.

"Thank you. You've been incredibly helpful. You're welcome to his wife. Remind her that if she comes looking for him, I'll make sure both of her fathers pay." Blythe smiles, and turns to me. "Are you ready?"

"Fuck…you."

It's the last thing I say to her.

The barn grows dim, hazy enough that all I can see is Jeanine, and she cheerfully holds up her phone. There's a picture of Everly on it, smiling with wide eyes as she looks at whoever is taking it, enlarged so it fills the screen.

"You won't remember her when this is over. You won't remember anything about being in Amity, actually. Take one last look, because when things calm down, she'll be absolutely no one to you. This will be nothing but a dream you can't remember," Jeanine instructs, and I stare at the phone, unable to move. My body has locked up, and I feel a wave of panic when I can feel myself forgetting her.

It happens quickly, oh so fast, before I can blink. The memories slip away, one by one. Everly becomes nameless, a girl with dark hair and a pink dress, and nothing more.

Nothing less.

I close my eyes, sucking in a painful breath, and when I open them, it's dark.