The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

for you?” I teased back, and she smirked as she leaned a shoulder against the locker.

“Never,” she said unabashedly. “But it’ll have to do for now.”

“That’s my girl—taking what she can get.” She snorted in response, and I stood up, throwing my bag over my shoulder. “Super fun meeting time.”

“And then to bed,” she said as I moved past her, pausing long enough to slip her arm around mine. I led her back through the second barracks designed for the cadets—several people were already sleeping in the bunks—and back out into the main hall, two doors down from the room serving as the hospital.

Leading her back up to the main entrance, I went past the office where the guards sat and turned the corner, almost slamming into King Maxen as he came down the stairs. He nearly fell, I startled him that much, and I reached out on impulse to grab his shoulder and stabilize him.

Jerking away from my hand, he huffed and straightened, smoothing down the front of the simple black jacket he was wearing.

He’d shaved recently, his goatee now trimmed and closer to perfect than I’d seen it since we’d kidnapped/rescued him.

“Maxen,” I said, refusing to put the proper “King” in front of it. I couldn’t. I’d seen the man use unarmed men, women, and children as human shields.

“Croft,” he replied, just as bitterly. “I see you were invited to a meeting, while I was not.”

I exchanged looks with Violet and shrugged. “You have been in the dark for some time, Maxen. I’m sure it would take too much precious time to catch you up at this point.”

“No, this is a blatant attempt to further wrest control from me!” he exclaimed, his voice dangerously low. “By keeping me out of the command structure, you are only further undermining my position as the rightful leader here. I allowed you to sequester me out of the need to keep me safe, but this is an outrage! I deserve to be there, to make my case before that little witch attempts to have her way and oust me!”

I frowned over the “little witch” comment, taking a moment to figure out who he meant before recalling the conference we’d had with Magdelena before we’d raided the city last night. Sweet Lord—had that really all happened last night?

Violet caught on as well and took a step up the stairs.

“Number one: that ‘little witch’ has a name—Magdalena,” she breathed angrily. “Number two, she fought like a Valkyrie for this country and its people, so you will at least show her a modicum of respect.”

A growl trickled from Maxen’s throat, and instead of responding, he pushed in between us and stalked around the corner, muttering under his breath. I watched him go, knowing that letting him roam free was a bad idea, but one we had to put up with until the imminent danger had passed—especially with five Patrian wardens now counted among our allies, relying on our connection with the king to prove we were on the right side—or we really would look like the kidnappers we probably were. But it was clear that Maxen was not taking the idea of his power evaporating very well.

Whatever. For all of his bluster, the man was ultimately a coward, and I doubted anyone within these walls would help him. Not with so many rebels around.

“What a piece of work,” Violet muttered as I led us upstairs into the main command room. In addition to training the cadets, this facility usually received and dispatched all the calls to the wardens on duty and nearby. It was a great learning opportunity, as many of the second-year cadets wound up working in this very room, learning just as much from watching as they did from doing.

It hadn’t changed much in all those years, either, but it felt different walking into it, partially because the control center was half-functioning. This was a room that had once had eyes on the whole of the city, and now it was partially—mostly—dark. The workstations where techs would scrub images in search of criminals were intact, but abandoned, as though waiting for someone to return. It was clear the building hadn’t suffered any damage during the three-day riot that had ensued after the stadium video, and I was at least grateful for that. This place was familiar, and whole, even if it wasn’t fully functional at the moment. It had been a long time since I had felt the small comfort of familiar facilities.

Henrik was standing by the large conference table toward the front of the room, where all the large screens sat, speaking with three men, two of whom I didn’t recognize but one I did.

“Mark?” I said, moving closer. I was interrupting, but I could tell they were wrapping things up from the way Henrik was shaking hands and patting shoulders. “Mark Travers?”

A slim man of about five foot eight turned, a broad smile breaking across his face when he saw me. “Viggo Croft!” he exclaimed, taking a step over to me, his hand extended. “I haven’t seen you since you brought those so-called prisoners through that checkpoint!”

I laughed, surprised he remembered, and then sobered when I realized why he had. That was the night Elena’s plan had really kicked off, and my “prisoners” and I had made off with Maxen. Yup, there was a convoluted history to be sure, but I was just happy to see him okay.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said ruefully. “I wish I could’ve explained, but I couldn’t trust you would believe me, and we had to get to the king before Elena had him killed.”

Mark gave a good-natured shrug. “I get it, man. From what I’ve heard, you and your girlfriend have been up to a lot trying to stop this madness. I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

“You too. Were you one of the wardens to secure this place after the video?”

He nodded, his smile fading some. “We were at the Alberton Memorial Stadium when