THE FREE FALL ⇘ Bellamy Blake. [1]

| xxiii. SNAKE EYES

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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE;

SNAKE EYES.

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DAWN HAD LONG RISEN BY THE TIME THE GROUP ARRIVED AT THEIR DESTINATION, bathing the sky in hues of coral and gold. Finn had taken the lead, Clarke steamrolling at his side, while Haven guarded the rear. Occasionally, she slipped her hand into her pocket, discreetly dropping jobi nuts along their path—a clandestine signal meant only for Bellamy to follow.

        Haven didn't necessarily like the idea of bringing guns to what was supposed to be a peace talk. Yet, the thought of being caught unprepared was equally unsettling. With each step, her anxiety intensified, twisting her stomach into knots. Nothing about the situation felt right. Though the weight of her blade pressed against heavily against her skin, tucked beneath her skirt, the phantom weight of a rifle felt even worse. As long as Bellamy wasn't forced to use his–things would be fine.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Eventually, they stumbled upon a clearing nestled within the dense foliage. Towering before them was one end of an ancient bridge, its weathered stones stretching across the expanse for at least a hundred meters to the opposite bank. Each stone was cloaked in a lush coat of moss, a testament to the passage of time and the river's persistent caress. Below, the water roared with an unruly ferocity, far more turbulent than the serene riverbank closer to camp.

Octavia stood before them with a stormy glare.

        "So that's how you set this up," Clarke huffed, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Finn, who maintained a tight-lipped silence. Then, she shifted her gaze back to the Blake girl. "You helped the Grounder escape, didn't you?"

        Somehow, Octavia's glare intensified even further, as if her sapphire eyes wielded the power to pierce through steel. "I trust him, Clarke."

        Clarke merely sighed. "There's a whole lot of that going around."

Haven was inclined to agree; the blonde's apprehension surrounding the meeting was undoubtedly justified. For all they knew, the group could have been walking straight into the line of fire. But then again–so could the Grounders. Wherever Bellamy was, Haven could almost feel the itch in his trigger finger, willing to unleash the firepower at any given moment.

        "Shh," Finn hushed, "Someone's coming."

Instinctively, the group snapped their heads towards the figure emerging from the opposite end of the bridge. Heavy footsteps echoed beneath the man's feet as he approached, clad in the unmistakable attire of a seasoned warrior, with his arms knowingly outstretched. Haven found herself momentarily transfixed by the sight of him, her focus so consumed by his familiarity that she barely even registered Octavia sprinting towards him.