The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

“It’s still cowardly,” the king grumbled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Violet’s expression was glacial as she regarded him. “Call it what you want, but I would think that doing everything in your power to keep your people as safe as possible isn’t cowardly—it’s noble.” She didn’t wait for him to respond to that dig, but turned toward me. “We are going to be working on something a little different,” she said, and I knew ‘we’ meant her and me. I wasn’t sure why she was including Maxen and Ashabee in this part of the meeting, but I trusted her judgment.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, standing up a bit straighter.

She smiled eagerly, leaning forward. “We’re going to find out where Desmond is manufacturing and storing the Benuxupane, in both Matrus and Patrus… and destroy it.”

I let her words roll over me for a moment, my mind suddenly becoming very aware and very excited. It seemed stupid that I hadn’t considered that before. It would help remove an important element from the game board: the boys.

In truth, I had avoided thinking about them. My heart was shredded by the knowledge that they were yet again being used by individuals who saw them only as tools, as a means to an end—and that all I had done with them had only helped prepare them for this role. I despised the thought of having to fight any one of them for real, because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I encountered them on the battlefield, I would not be able to pull the trigger.

I met Violet’s gaze. “That sounds perfect,” I replied, and her face lit up with new determination.

“It’s not going to be easy,” she cautioned me. “We might have to ask Owen, Quinn, and Amber to help us.”

“That, uh, might be a bit of a problem,” Owen said from the couch, his face troubled. Violet turned in her seat, staring at him, and he coughed nervously. “Amber and Quinn… they told me they want to head back into The Green. Back to our home base. Tomorrow.”

Violet bit her lip, and I could tell from her face that she was deeply disappointed.

“Why?” I inquired, hoping to find a way to ease the tension.

Owen met my gaze and gave a heaving sigh. “They don’t feel like they should get involved,” he said softly. “They… They want to consult with the other Liberators, and see what they can do to help them.”

“Really?” Violet said. “They’re not going to stay and help? Even Quinn? Don’t they see how important this is?!”

Owen looked up at her sharply. “Don’t judge them so harshly, Violet. They did stand down and help get you here, even if it means they might get kicked out of the one group where they feel like they’re at home. Just because they don’t agree with you on what they should do during this war, doesn’t mean that they’re wrong. Cut them some slack.”

Violet’s jaw tensed, but then she sighed. “I’m sorry… you’re right. I think I need to get some more sleep—I’m feeling short-tempered…” At Owen’s nod, she looked down. “I really do appreciate how much they’ve helped us. And how much you’ve done, too. Will… Will you and Thomas be going with them?”

Owen shook his head. “No,” he said with a small smile. “I’m with Team Violet and Viggo. I don’t really agree with Amber and Quinn on this point either. And I’m sick of being Desmond’s errand-boy.”

Violet nodded and began outlining her plans in more detail, giving out job assignments and lining up tasks for the next day. When she began to find the group’s questions more difficult to answer, I stepped in to help.

We finished hours after we had started. But at least there was still some time before dawn to rest before we truly began to implement our new plans. Violet and I went upstairs together, practically leaning on each other, and I knew we were in the same state of mind: deliriously tired, but still feverishly thinking. The gears wouldn’t stop turning. I had tried to shut them off, but our plan was taking shape inside my head, and it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

When we reached the door to our bedroom I stopped, looking down into her eyes.

“Thank you,” I said, taking her hand in mine.

She smiled, but her eyes glistened with curiosity. “For what?” she asked.

“For… giving us something to look forward to,” I replied.

She leaned up and pressed her lips against mine softly. “Anytime,” she breathed, before we entered the room and collapsed into bed.

21

Violet

I woke up, surprised to see the sun shining brightly through the window, as cheerfully as if we weren’t at war at all. Rolling over, I saw that Viggo wasn’t in bed. I looked blearily at the clock. It was nine in the morning. I frowned, remembering that I was supposed to have been on guard duty two hours ago.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and ran my hand over my face. I felt filthy. I hadn’t showered since we left the Liberators’ facility, and that felt like over a week ago. For all I knew, it had been.

Standing up, I walked to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I went. Inside the bathroom, I made a beeline to the shower. It was damp and slick—evidence that Viggo had already used it—so I trod carefully as I cranked up the dial.

The blast of cold water hit me in the face, making me gasp, but within seconds the water warmed. I stood under it for several minutes, watching blood and dirt swirling around the drain. The white bandage still around my hand, slowly soaking up water, caught my attention, and, after taking a deep breath, I gingerly pulled it off. Now that I wasn’t