“Rich girls don’t kiss on dares,” I manage.
“Too much to lose.” Which is too close to the truth.
He huffs a mirthless laugh. “Sounds like asshole father propaganda to me. Does the Coalition know what he made you?”
“They do now. I’m being reclassified as we speak. Rich girl dissident. Plays with fire. Her wingman plays with knives.” I risk a flirty look back.
He catches my gaze on his slender body and a knowing grin curves his lips. “Maybe her wingman likes playing with her fire, too.”
The Coalition mutated us.
They left us writhing on our classroom floor, no breath, no scream, until feathers of vivid hues unfolded from our shoulders and whispered over our skin.
We staggered up, dazed and disoriented, but then our professor’s wings – they swarmed with spiders, and—
I left him dead on the sun-drenched floor.
Now I’m on the run with Lunar Adurian, the smirky guy who always watched me from scarred eyes, and I’m falling too hard.
I need to keep it together, to wage an underground war against the Coalition, but inside I’m coming apart.
My father wants me to abandon my best friend. Lunar challenges my every step and questions my every act. I start making mistakes, and I’m struggling to hold everything in place: to hold my course, my beliefs, to hold myself—
To hold anything at all when my hands are slippery with blood.
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