His Amity | Eric Coulter x Original FMC |

Chapter Twenty

ERIC

Eric sat in the cold, sterile room, his hands clasped together on the polished metal table. Across from him, Jeanine Matthews and Max were engaged in a detailed discussion about the new prototype divergent scanner. Jeanine's lackeys hovered around her, each eager to impress, explaining the device's functions with a zeal that sickened him. It was supposed to be revolutionary—a small, handheld scanner that, when pointed at someone's face, would determine if they were divergent. Simple. Efficient. Deadly.

As they spoke, Eric barely listened. His mind was miles away, lost in thoughts of Lia. He hadn't slept in what felt like weeks. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was her face. Fearful, angry, confused. He replayed their last encounter in Amity over and over in his mind. She had run from him, had even shot at him. She didn't understand, and he didn't know how to make her.

His eyes darted to the security monitors on the wall. He had been obsessed with those screens, scouring them for any trace of her. Every free moment was spent searching. He had sent soldiers to question the factionless, to dig through every possible lead, but Lia remained elusive. Eric's heart ached with a gnawing despair, knowing she was out there, somewhere, hating him. And what cut the deepest was the knowledge that she had every right to.

Jeanine had seen the way Eric looked at Lia, had sensed the depth of his feelings, and she doubted his ability to capture Lia and Four. She didn't want them taken prisoner—she wanted her eliminated. And Jeanine, never one to take chances, didn't trust Eric to carry out that order.

So she activated the serum at the last possible moment. Dragged him across the compound to protect her cowardly self. He remembered the way his body had moved against his will, the way his thoughts became foggy, his actions not his own. He had been forced to hurt Lia, to attack her, to become her worst nightmare. Every time she cried out, every time she fought back, it was like a dagger to his heart, but he couldn't stop. He had trained her himself, taught her every move, and now she was using that knowledge to defend herself against him.

In his mind, the images replayed endlessly—her body bruised and battered beneath him, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He had tried to scream, tried to tell her it wasn't him, that he would never do this to her. But the words never came. He was trapped, a prisoner in his own body, while Jeanine's serum made him into a monster.

He had replayed that night in his mind a thousand times since. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. When he woke, he saw her. The memory tortured him, a constant reminder of what he had lost, of what Jeanine had taken from him. It wasn't just his loyalty that had been shattered—it was his very soul.

Back in the meeting, Eric's fists clenched under the table, his knuckles white. The sound of Jeanine's voice grated on his nerves, every word a reminder of the control she still had over him. But he would endure it. He would play along with her sick games, bide his time, until he could find Lia and tell her the truth. Until he could make things right.

He had done what he could at Amity, they had rounded up every single faction member, grilled them for information about Lia and Four's stay. Eric had used that opportunity to extract any details he could about her. Was she healthy? Was she happy? What was her relationship with Four? The answers were all the same: she was angry, withdrawn, no longer the Lia they once knew. But that answer filled Eric with a grim sort of pride. She was strong, stronger than most, and she was surviving. And when he discovered Kai's body—broken, bloodied, brutalized—Eric felt an odd satisfaction knowing that she had done that. His only regret was that he hadn't been there to witness it.

"Eric."

Jeanine's sharp voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. He shifted in his seat, forcing his focus back to the meeting. "How are the preparations going to find the defectors?" she asked, her tone clipped and impatient.

"We're combing the streets, sector by sector," Eric replied. His voice was steady, but his mind was still racing. "So far, no sign of the escapees from Amity. We have reports of some Dauntless soldiers at Candor, but there's no telling how many."

Jeanine sighed, rubbing her temples. "Jack Kang has given them asylum, using the faction bylaws to protect them. They're untouchable within his care."

Max scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a disdainful snort. "Why don't we just storm in and take them? Show him he can't protect traitors."

Jeanine shot him a look of pure disdain. "That's a last resort. Jack Kang is not an enemy we want to make. But if it comes to it, we will recover the defectors by any means necessary."

Eric stiffened at her words. There was an undertone to Jeanine's voice that sent a chill down his spine. She was talking about more than just a recovery mission. This was about starting an all-out faction war, and Eric knew then that he could no longer trust the narrative he had been fed. The lies about divergents, about them being a threat. None of it made sense anymore.

Lia was divergent. She was the one person he had ever truly cared about, and her Divergence was never a threat. All she wanted was to be happy, and all Eric ever wanted was to give that to her. He had to find her, save her from whatever horrors Jeanine had planned, even if it meant betraying everything he had once believed in.

He stared down at the table, the decision solidifying in his mind. He would play along for now, but his loyalty was no longer with Jeanine or Max. It was with Lia. Whatever the cost, he would find her. And when he did, he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

Even if it meant tearing down the whole world around him to do it.