ATARAXIA • BELLAMY BLAKE

[ 5 6 ]

"Shit, it's cold tonight," Harper mutters through chattering teeth, hugging her body tightly as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

"Tell me about it," Monroe agrees, her hands gripping her rifle as if it could somehow provide her warmth.

We're all on gate duty—Harper, Monroe, Lincoln, and me. It's the most uneventful shift, and tonight, it feels particularly miserable with the biting cold seeping into our bones.

I glance at Lincoln. He's trying to stay warm too, though he's not the kind to complain.

"What if I went to grab a couple of blankets?" I offer, my own body craving some warmth. It might spoil the tough image we try to keep up, but let's face it, there's no one left out here to intimidate. The camp's quiet, with most people already in bed, and no hostile Grounders knocking at our gate.

"Won't say no to that," Monroe says, and Harper quickly nods in agreement. I catch Lincoln's eye, and after a brief hesitation, he gives a small nod. He's not thrilled, but the cold is a relentless persuader.

Technically, we're not supposed to leave our post, but given how dead it is, I figure three people can handle it for a few minutes.

"I'll be right back," I say, already moving briskly through the camp toward the area we've designated for the Guard. I head straight for the storage, where I know we keep extra blankets. But as I pass the door to the armory, a faint clattering noise makes me stop. I backtrack a few steps and push the door open, peering inside.

"Bellamy?" I call out when spotting his back that's facing me as he stuffs a gun into a bag. He freezes for a second before glancing over his shoulder to meet my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Getting guns," he says simply, turning back to his task.

"For what?" I step further into the room, my curiosity turning into concern. He doesn't answer.

"You can't be in here." The rules are clear; quitting the Guard means no access to the armory.

Bellamy ignores me, continuing to shove rifles into the bag. I stride over and grab his forearm, forcing him to pause. He looks at me, and I see a flash of pain in his eyes, a struggle I wasn't prepared for.

My stern expression softens as I take in his troubled face. "What did Pike say to you?" I ask, quickly making the connection.

"Nothing I didn't already know," he says, straightening up. "There's an army out there. We need to hit them before they hit us."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. "That army was sent to protect us," I say, trying to break through the fog of distrust that the Mount Weather attack has left behind. "Don't let what happened with Echo make you forget that."

"When have they ever protected us? Huh?" he fires back, desperation creeping into his voice. "When they left us at Mount Weather? When they blew it up?"

"Ice Nation did that," I remind him, frustrated that I have to keep repeating this.

"Grounders did that."

"Bell," I say softly, stepping closer. I take his hands in mine, trying to ground him in the reality of what he's considering. "Take a second to think about what you're doing. This is treason. You're gonna start a war."

He squeezes my hands lightly, his gaze searching mine. "I have always done what's best for us. I need you to trust that I am doing that now."

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him he's making a huge mistake, but he beats me to it. "Trust me."

I can see that he's beyond reasoning. The determination etched on his face is a look I've seen countless times before, and I know there's nothing I can say right now that will change his mind. I watch as he stuffs two more guns into his bag and walks out of the room.