I don't own The Selection.

reviews:

mckenzie blevins:

OMG I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH! I like that you added baby Maxon's journal

livewithbooks:
ahhh! i'm so so so glad you like it! thank you :)) there will be more of the journal soon i promise

Virtue01:

Thanks, for the update awesome chapter. I like the idea of America finding Maxon journal written when he was younger. I had forgotten that his dad gave him a bad whipping concerning Marlee. Glad Maxon is back home safely with family and friends. I do like the idea of the journal entries and I would see more of it. I thought the integration when very well Maxon has got a way of dealing with people, he is an astute king. Brilliant writing, as usual, stay safe.

livewithbooks:

thank you!

Reader:

I absolutely love that May was back! The twins greeting was literally the cutest thing ever, I was squealing the whole time I was reading that. Thank you so much for that awesome chapter! I hope everyone has a wonderful day! :)

livewithbooks:

thank you! i was absolutely squealing too :))) have a wonderful day as well!

IvoryAllium:

The journal entires are very cool and I would love to see more of them! It's a very unique way to see how far am on has come and how much his little family has grown. I'm also very excited for more about the rebel, keep up the great work!

livewithbooks:

i'm glad you liked the entries! there will definitely be more. thank you!

GUYSSSS THIS CHAPTER AHHHHHH (i won't spoil anything, but i really hope you enjoy)

i've taken some of your ideas/input and am trying my best to incorporate them! i love how much you guys seem to be enjoying this, and for someone to actually enjoy my writing is unreal! i've never shown my work to anyone, mainly because they always make fun of me :D

i love you guys so much!

Two Months Later - December

I had one last thing to do before we left for Carolina tomorrow.

Aspen and Carter were going into this interrogation with me. Well, it was more of a questioning. A conversation between Mia and myself. But, I needed them to know what I was intending on doing.

"I need her to trust me," I said. "Like.. a lot. I've obviously done something to her or someone she knows, so that's the hard part. Try not to.."

"Look so intimidating?" Carter teased.

Aspen smirked. "Got it, boss."

"Don't call me that," I snorted. "I'd rather you called me Mackin."

Aspen nudged Carter playfully. I shouldn't have told them that. I was about to be known as Mackin for the rest of my life.

With one last over at the extra guards, and my family who insisted they had nothing better to do, I glanced at Mia through the glass. She was on the edge of her seat, obviously tense. I was hesitating now.

So I opened the door and walked over to where Mia sat.

"I'm being watched."

It was a statement, not a question.

"Now and for the rest of your life," I said, smiling. "I've been told you wanted to talk to me."

"I do."

"Why did you tell me it's personal? What does that mean, Mia?"

"Buy a dictionary, Your Majesty."

I shrugged. "You can mock me all you'd like. It really doesn't bother me. Now, are you going to answer the question or am I wasting my time talking to you?"

She paused for a moment.

It was very quiet, until—

"I know about your father."

"Yes, most people do. He was king too. A very famous individual, might I add."

"Didn't you want to hurt him, Maxon? Hurt him as badly as he hurt you? Return the beatings, return—"

"Did I do something to you, Ms. Willis?"

She stayed deathly quiet as I stared her down. My gaze never faulted, unlike hers. I was used to this. I was used to putting people in their places, and I'd do it again with her.

"January," she said. "Four or five years ago. You sent soldiers to raid the rebel camps."

"I did."

"Did they tell you about the fatalities?"

"They did."

"We have something in common, Maxon," she said. "But do you know what it is? Who it is? Do you?"

I was silent.

Honestly, I had a pretty good idea of what she was getting at, but I wasn't saying anything until she did. What if I was wrong? I doubted that, but it could happen. I wasn't perfect.

"We're orphans," she finally said. "Your people killed my parents. My brothers. My girlfriend."

"You're a rebel. We have nothing in common."

"I wasn't! I wasn't a rebel when that happened. I was an innocent girl spending the week with my loved ones! Do you know what I remember about that day? Everything. Let me ask you, Maxon, who means the most to you? Out of all of these people covered in nice clothes? Who would you die for? The one person."

Silence.

"America Singer."

The name rang through the room, and every bit of it was true. I resisted the urge to shift my weight.

"You took the people I loved most, so—"

"So you want to do the same to me." I said, finishing her sentence.

Mia's entire demeanor had changed. When I'd first walked in, she'd been tense, nervous even. But now, she was comfortable and she was angry. At me.

"Do you think becoming a murderer is going to solve your problems?"

"Do you think sentencing a little girl to life in prison is a good idea?" she asked. "I could do better. Turn my life around."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?"

"Shocked? It would have been eighteen, but apparently the Queen is as tough as you, Your Majesty."

"People like you deserve death, Mia."

She tensed. "What?"

"You're fighting for a family you don't have, correct?" I asked.

"I still have them—"

"No, you don't. They died, Mia. Killing or hurting me or anyone else in my family or in my bloodline or in the country will not help."

And then I left.

I sat down beside America, and she took my hand.

"I'd be okay if you broke her wrist too."

America dragged me out of the main room of the jet, taking me into the bathroom.

I admit that it was probably a suspicious thing to do. Especially since there had been no warning behind the decision and we'd been watching a movie with our family. The teasing would be unavoidable, wouldn't it?

"What's up?" I asked, my voice low. "Is something wrong?"

"Maxon.."

"Ames?"

"Would adoption ever be an option for us?"

I sat down on the closed toilet seat, rubbing my cheek. Would we be able to adopt? What if we couldn't? What if we could? Personally, I would love to give a child a home.

She stood a little straighter. "Never mind, it's stupid. We've already thought about it, and the process takes a while, and—"

"I can ask," I said. "Stavros would know. We could change protocols."

Her mouth turned up in a smile.

"Ames, I think we could do it. Change a few things, add a few things. We have the money and the time and the space. But—I'm not sure the child could be a possible heir. We could most definitely give them a title, but I think it really ends there."

"You're serious?"

"Of course I am. This could work. It's been about two years since we had the twins, and we're most definitely ready for another addition."

She moved to stand between my legs and kissed me.

I cupped her cheek in my hand, kissing her back. Her hands moved to the nape of my neck, just slightly grazing the short hair there. My hands went to her waist. She broke away, smiling and nudging her nose against mine.

"Oh God!" May shouted from the doorway.

America and I pushed past her, happily sitting down on the couch.

"Were you spying on us?" America asked, not even blushing. Odd. "Creep."

May huffed. "What were you doing? Peeing together?"

"All the time," I teased. "No, we're planning a war. Taking over the world."

May rolled her eyes.

"Well," Brice said. "That sounds ambitious."

"We're the ambitious type," I winked.

The plane landed within the hour.

As always, we were welcomed by the townspeople near the airport in which we landed. The car ride to their home in the quaint town was quick. With one twin in each arm, I stepped out of the car, and we entered the house.

It was just as I remembered it, with the living room and kitchen and hallway. The twins both squealed and reached out, grabbing invisible items.

"Well, they're excited," Magda smiled.

"Aren't they?" Kenna laughed. "I'm going to go put Maddox down for a nap. Poor baby is exhausted."

Kenna took Maddox down the hallway to her bedroom, James trailing behind them with their luggage. I let the twins down and they immediately ran towards the living room. Anything could keep those two entertained.

In mere hours, dinner had been cooked and everyone was settled in.

We all sat down at the table, three high chairs added for the twins and Maddox—who was almost a year old. They seemed to be loving it.

As I tried to help Avery eat, she said, "No."

Then she proceeded to take the spoon away from me and put it in her mouth herself. Well, that was a major accomplishment. And she knew it too. Avery was beaming with pride.

I high fived her.

And that night, we all sat around in the living room and watched Frosty the Snowman.

In the morning, I was woken by the soft sounds of the twins' giggling.

They laid between America and I on the bed, seeing as we didn't have a crib. They seemed to sleep better like this anyway.

America was already awake, her blue eyes glistening in the morning light.

Before any of them could move, I jumped up and took a picture of them.

And then the day began.

Our first thing to do, seeing as it was Christmas Eve, was to decorate the Christmas tree. Magda provided us with a bucket of ornaments and other things to put on the tree.

The first thing Avery reached for was a candy cane.

"Up!" she ordered, hands opening and closing. "Up!"

"Alright," I said, picking her up and holding her nearer the tree. She clumsily hooked the shaped candy onto a limb and clapped.

I kissed her forehead and she stuck her tongue out in a playful manner.

"The tongue stays inside your mouth," I reminded her, rubbing the small of her back.

She pouted. "No."

"Bossy," Magda said, coming up beside us. "You're doing amazing, sweetheart."

"Gramma," Avery squealed. "Gramma, Gramma!"

To please my daughter and free myself of the little monster, I handed her off to Magda and continued hanging ornaments. Magda loved her grandchildren. I desperately wished I'd be here to see my own someday, with America at my side. And perhaps I'd have a dozen grandkids, all for me to spoil and love. What a life that would be.

Later—minutes later—I was basically cornered by Kenna, who was without Maddox for the first time all day. We were in America's old bedroom, as I'd been asked by my wife to get something.

"Is America pregnant?" she asked, shutting the door. "Seriously. You both are acting weird."

"Are we?"

"Okay, that was blunt. Sorry. But she's my little sister, and you're my little brother. Is there a baby inside of her?"

"No. There's no baby, Kenna. But—"

"But?"

"Would you be interested in a secret?"

She sat down on the end of this bed. "Indulge me, dear brother."

"How would you feel about an addition to the family? One that's not necessarily biological."

"An adoption?" she squealed.

"Quiet!" I urged. "It's a secret, Ken."

"Sorry! But are you serious? An adoption? Is that even possible? It wouldn't be your child, meaning there would be no biological relation to you."

"I've yet to.. consult the political side of things, but we're serious about this. We have more than enough to house another child. And we want a big family. They wouldn't be the heir, but we could title them."

She jumped up and hugged me, before doing some kind of happy dance.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes! I'm just—I think it's all finally sinking in."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother-in-law is the King, my sister is the Queen, my niece is the heir to the royal throne, Astra and Maddox can have a wonderful life, Gerad can be an athlete. I live in a palace, Maxon. This is literally a dream."

I grinned.

There were things about my life that seemed unlikely to be true, but I'd never seen it as a dream, even if it was.

"You'll be an amazing adoptive dad," she said, crossing her arms. "Kids love you and you don't even have to bribe them with candy."

"I can't help being perfect,"

She rolled her eyes. "Merry Christmas, little brother."

A Merry Christmas indeed.

America and I awoke to the smells of an excellent breakfast, and the sounds of our family's laughter and chatter. The twins appeared to have escaped our bed or were taken by their relatives, and I guessed it was the latter. Though, I didn't doubt their ability to sneak away from us.

My wife groaned and rubbed her eyes, and I took the chance to kiss the side of her mouth.

"Merry Christmas, darling,"

"You are so predictable, Maxon."

"Is that really such a bad thing? But.. did you expect this?"

Getting a high-pitched squeal, I tickled her stomach. She pushed me off of the bed, and I landed on the floor with a loud thud. The door opened slowly as I groaned in pain.

"Oh, good. You aren't doing.. never mind. What—"

"He tickled me, James."

"And so you pushed him off the bed?"

I groaned and held Avery's stuffed carrot to my chest, rolling onto my side. James sighed and offered me a hand, which I gladly took, childlessly sticking my tongue out at her. I threw the carrot at her and followed James out the door.

Astra came running down the hallway and threw herself into my arms, and I happily picked her up. She was heavier now that she was six, but much more enthusiastic.

"Happy Christmas, Mackin!"

"Astra, it's Merry Christmas! You aren't British!" Kenna huffed, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Astra frowned. "I am British." And in a horrible accent, she added, "I'm British just like in the TV."

"Maybe you should work on your accent!" May suggested. "It sounds fake."

"Does not!"

"Does too!" Gerad piped in.

"Maxon, you've spent time in England. Doesn't her accent sound fake?" May asked, crossing her arms.

I set Astra down. "You just need a.. Well, a lot of practice."

Astra huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm British. Happy Christmas."

I had to admit, her accent did sound fake. But, she was only six. Might as well let her have her fun while it was still possible.

On the couch, I spotted the twins, each holding a cookie in their hands. I picked Avery up and sat down, putting her back in my lap. She giggled and offered me the cookie.

"Ware," she said. "Dada, ware."

I think the word she was shooting for was share.

"Alright," I said, taking half of the cookie.

She clapped when I took a bite of it. I wasn't 100% sure that I wasn't being poisoned by my toddler, but her smile was worth it. Hopefully the cookie hadn't hit the floor.

"Good," she said, chewing her own half. "Yummy."

Once America emerged from the bedroom, we all sat down to eat dinner, and then went on to exchange presents.

I'd gotten just a couple of small things, but the twins had gotten stuffed animals, toys, and whatever they could use. No one spared an expense on them, Astra, Gerad, or Maddox.

It seemed like hours had passed when May stood up and squealed.

"It's snowing!"

We were outside in an instant.

The twins were bundled up in their little coats and scarves, one in my arms and one in America's

Each time a snowflake fell past us, Avery reached out to touch it, giggling and squealing and laughing and smiling. It was the first time she and Roman had ever seen snow in person.

Astra and Gerad ran back and forth, laughing and throwing snowballs at each other.

Maddox and Kenna sat on the ground, James taking pictures of the.

May and Ryder were laughing and making snow angels.

America was beside me, picking up chunks for Roman and helping him throw them. He seemed to be just as overjoyed as Avery was.

Magda was watching us all, a huge smile on her face.

"Here," I said, turning to Avery. "You can eat them."

She copied me and stuck her tongue out, head tilted upwards. When a few of the flakes landed on her tongue, she quickly ate them and giggled. I kissed her nose, forehead, and rosy cheeks.

This was one of the best days I'd had in a while.

Stavros sat down, looking slightly confused.

I'd asked to see him. It was probably eight in the morning. We'd been back from Carolina for a day or so, and in that time, America had reminded me to ask him, so here I was.

"I had a question," I told him.

We were in my office, seeing as it was the most private room I could think of. I didn't sit at my desk. I was standing, so he stayed standing as well.

"Your Majesty?

"Adoption," I said. "Would it be possible? For America and I to adopt a child?"

He was sort of frozen in place.

I ran a hand through my hair, preparing myself for the answer I knew I'd get. No. That would be the answer. It always would be.

"There's nothing wrong with America, if you'd like to know," I added. "We're just curious."

"I'm not sure, sir."

"So it's possible?"

"It's hard to say," he admitted. "There could be backlash from the public, sir. There's never been an adoption in the royal family. And—I'm sure—since this child would not be biologically related to you.."

"They wouldn't be in line for the throne," I sighed. "That's all right. I'd be able to title them a prince or princess, correct?"

"Correct, sir."

"And if we adopted an older child? Our reputations, our ratings. How badly would that affect us? Everything?"

"There's no way to tell, sir," he said. "We have no data to go off of."

I paused for a moment.

I could start an uproar by doing this. Right now, nothing was set in stone, which allowed us to change our minds. But would we? This was our chance to give an innocent child a home. A family. A life.

"Am I stupid for considering this?"

He was silent for a moment before looking down. "I think that we, as a country, are lucky to have such a person in charge. I—personally—believe that, suppose you do this, this child will have won the lottery, and I'm talking about their adopted family."

"You really think so? I'm afraid they'd hate me."

"I've never met another person like you, sir. If it's an honor to work for you, I can only imagine the honor of being your family."

I was incredibly touched.

He promised me he would get me an answer by the end of the day, and left. But before he went, I hugged him. Odd, yes, but I wasn't sure he realized how important he was to me. Stavros was like a second father to me.

"Seriously, guys," Marlee huffed. "You look like you're waiting on some dreadful news."

"Sorry, Mars, it's just—a lot is riding on this," America sighed.

Aspen perked up. "Like what? Just tell us."

"Your Majesties?"

Stavros was in the doorway.

I went out in the hallway with him.

"Sir, I've checked all of the major laws, and there's no reason why adoption wouldn't be an option," he said, smiling. "But, as I thought, they wouldn't be in line for your crown, yet we could have them titled. There are several minor things to worry about, and I've consulted Gavril, and that's what this is."

He handed me a packet of papers, with the word Confidential on the front page.

I nodded. "Thank you. I'll make sure to tell you what we decide."

He bowed and left, leaving me alone.

I took a moment to just let it soak in.

When I walked back into the parlor, everyone was staring at me again. I sat down beside America and she took the papers from me, flipping through them.

"No way," she grinned.

"We're dying here, guys! Tell us!" Marlee groaned.

"We're going to try adopting a child," I shrugged. "Most likely an older child."

"No way!" August exclaimed. "That's possible?"

"Well, they'd never be the heir, but we could give them a title. Obviously we have the money and space for another kid, so why not?" America reasoned.

Two Weeks Later

We jumped into the adoption process immediately.

The next day was spent meeting with advisors, and now, we were meeting with the head of the Angeles' adoption center. Her name was Margo Nicks. She was well known for helping children find their forever homes.

"Your Majesties," Ms. Nicks curtsied. "Here, take a seat."

We did.

"Now," she said. "I'm sure you're aware of the questions I'm required to ask."

"We are," I said.

She pulled out a rather long sheet of paper. "Are you looking to adopt an older or younger child, Your Majesties?"

America took my hand. "We were more interested in an older child. Preferably between the ages of nine and sixteen."

"And would you want to adopt a child from within the country?"

"Yes, that's probably best," I said. "And we're perfectly fine with adopting a child of a different race."

"Alright."

She moved on to what lawyer we would choose to use, so we picked our personal lawyer. He was very good in his profession. And then it was on to what traits we were looking for.

"Uhm.. we'd like anything, really. Just someone who's pretty well-behaved and good with children." America said.

"If you'll be okay with it, we have several candidates ready to meet you today." she said. "We'll have them come over later today."

"Today?" I frowned. "That's quick."

"We're very good at this, sir. Now, is that alright?"

"Yes, of course." America said.

We were seriously doing this.

My nerves were all over the place.

There would be five children arriving in ten minutes. Hold on. Ten minutes had been twenty minutes ago. Suddenly in a rush, I hurried down the hallway, but someone or something ran into me.

Papers fell down in a heap onto the floor.

I immediately crouched down to help pick them up.

"Your Majesty, I'm so sorry—"

I looked up. It was a girl, probably of Gerad's age. Her jet black hair was cut in a curly bob that had an Afro texture to it. She had sparkling black eyes, with long eyelashes. Her dark brown skin was the last thing I noticed.

"No, let me help you," I said. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Estelle," she said, shyly. "Estelle Bryant, sir. I'm here with Ms. Nicks."

"I was supposed to be here to greet you," I sighed. "My nerves must've got the best of me. I apologize."

"Oh, it's fine, sir, uhm—"

"Is there something wrong, Estelle?"

"I, uhm, I don't really know my way around, sir. You have a beautiful home, and I got distracted, and I'm kind of lost."

We got back to our feet and I handed her the papers again.

She pushed a piece of hair out of her face, avoiding my gaze. Either she was just shy or she was a little nervous to be near me. I hoped it was the first option. She seemed so kind.

"Don't worry," I smiled. "Why don't I give you a private tour? I used to get lost here as a child too."

"Oh, uhm, okay, sir."

First, I took her down to the gardens. She seemed to be astounded by the beauty of the colors of the plants, the smooth dance of the trees, and the peace. I pointed out the different places, telling her about each flower she seemed interested in, and telling her about how it was my favorite place here.

"It's so beautiful," she murmured, lightly touching a rose.

"Maxon!"

America emerged from the palace, the twins on her hips. She set them down and let them run over to me. They were even faster now. But after hugging my legs, they went right to Estelle.

"Dada, who?" Roman asked.

"This is Estelle," I said. "She likes flowers too, you know."

"Willy?"

"Really," Estelle said. "What's your favorite flower, Roman?"

"Woses."

"Wow! Those are my favorites too. Can I show you some of the ones I've found?"

Roman put his hand out, and grinned. "Show, pwease."

Estelle helped Roman over to where some of the most beautiful roses were growing, showing and even helping him pick one. America put an arm around my waist.

"She's amazing,"

I laughed. "Yeah, she is. Where is everyone else?"

"Eating dinner. You think.. we could invite her to eat with us?"

"Absolutely."

Estelle was amazing with the twins. Both of them. She helped Avery catch a grasshopper, helped Roman pick more roses, and even made a flower crown for all three of them. I couldn't have imagined us finding a better match for the twins.

"Estelle?" America asked. "Could we speak?"

The girl came over immediately. "Your Majesty?"

"We were wondering.. if you'd like to come up and eat dinner with the four of us. Privately. And if.. if you'd like to, we want you to spend some time here. With us."

"Oh my God, of course! Of course I'd like to stay—"

She was beaming.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "There's no pressure, and you could always leave."

"No, no! I'm sure. This place.. it's a dream, and your children, they're so amazing, and you both are so kind, oh my God."

Upstairs, once we'd gotten the twins under control and in their high chairs, we all sat down to eat. Estelle looked a little confused by all of the forks, and America just laughed and removed all but one of them.

"It doesn't matter to us when we're alone," she said. "Silvia will show you the ins and outs of everything."

"Oh. Okay."

Dinner was brought to us quickly. Tonight, we were eating steak and some kind of green salad.

Once Estelle took a bite of the steak, she sighed and closed her eyes. America threw me a quick, nostalgic look. She returned to helping the twins eat their baby food.

"This is the best food I've ever had," Estelle said. "It tastes like heaven."

"I'm glad you like it," I laughed.

After dinner, Estelle went to the bathroom to wash up while we put the twins to bed and went to speak to Ms. Nicks. She was overjoyed that we'd found someone.

"She's twelve, almost thirteen," she told us. "Her parents were eights, and were unable to care for her. We think they're dead now."

"We'd like to foster her," I said. "Until we know if she likes it here."

"Perfect! Sign here and she'll be under your care."

So we signed.

AHH pls i love the idea of them adopting and i hope i'm not the only one

also guys, if anyone at all is confused with ages, i'll have them listed the next time i post! just to give you an idea, maxon is 24 and america is 22 and the twins are 20 months right now.