Insurrection [On Hold]

43 No.

Under the cover of nightfall, we drive the truck into the streets, Lumierian soldiers, my siblings, and I crowded in the back. We remain silent. No one has mentioned Lilyith, but Rosalie's puffy, red eyes say a lot more than words ever can.

The soldier who drives is dressed as one of Quill's. He stops the truck at Caleela's city gates. He speaks to someone outside before a gunshot echoes and the truck flies forward. I grip Killian's hand. It's sweaty. I know it's only a matter of minutes before we're followed.

The driver races us to where our ship hopefully waits. Maybe it's swarmed by Quill's soldiers now. Maybe they're waiting for us, guns raised to shoot us on the spot.

"We're almost there," he calls out.

Gunshots pling around us, and the truck comes to a halt.

"Everyone out," he commands. "To the ship. Hurry."

I hop to the grass. It's moist through the slippers I wear. The ship looms before me, the plank only feet away, incased in shadows. Mountains loom behind it—dark, tall, imposing guards. The stationed Lumierians fire back at the Quillunite soldiers that approach. I race up the gangway, praying I'll survive until morning.

In minutes we're in the air, and I slump against Andromeda the tears now finally coming— not just to me, but to the rest of my siblings.

"It doesn't make sense," I say after swallowing the lump in my throat. "She came here to rescue me, and because of that she's dead."

Andromeda rubs my arms, trying to soothe me but it's not helping. "She wanted to rescue you. This isn't your fault."

"It's mine in many ways."

Rosalie's lip trembles. I've never seen her like this. But Lilyith was her twin. Her other half. I can't expect someone to lose a major part of them self and remain the same. "What do you mean?" she asks.

"If you didn't have to rescue me, if I hadn't distracted her. . ."

"How did you distract her?" Bryon asks, as Samuel hugs Rosalie.

"She was about to kill Every. I called out. I didn't even see the soldier behind her."

Killian, for the briefest moment, gives me a disgusted look before he replaces it with a blank expression, but because it came from him that one moment was enough to feel like eternity to me. He's always been my favorite brother. He knows that. My other brothers don't. He saved my life back when the prisoners rioted in Koi. He's always taken care of me. Always had my back. He is my confidant, and I am his. "Why would you try to stop his death? He's the enemy."

"Who is my friend." The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, and no one says anything. They stare. Eight pairs of brown eyes all focused on me.

"He is the enemy, Raksana." Gale shakes his head. "Why do you never understand that enemies aren't friends?" Now he's referring to Nate.

"If it wasn't for him, Maxon and Jareth would have continued to interrogate me. With the way things were going, I don't know if I would have survived." Diverting my eyes, I wring my hands together, reliving in my head the moment Lilyith was shot. I raised my gun. I fired it. Yet I don't feel like a murderer. Not to that man. When I have time to really think about the others I killed, I'll probably consider myself one, but with him, it was revenge. I snap my eyes up, hardening my expression. "I killed the man who killed her."

"You? Killed someone?" Rosalie asks, her mouth remaining parted even after the words leave her lips.

"He killed our sister; what was I supposed to do?"

Rosalie presses her lips together and swallows. "Thank you."

A half an hour passes by, and they begin falling asleep. I don't because I know the faces of all I shot—killed— are going to haunt my dreams. Instead I think about what's going to happen when I get home. My father's going to be mad that Lilyith, one of his favorites, is dead due to a rescue mission for his least favorite. That's why I didn't mention the illegitimate heir to my siblings. I need to know something that will help me. I always have to have leverage against my father, and he always has to have it against me—like Nate. Nate. I've hardly thought of him with all that's happened. He doesn't seem important compared to my. . . dead sister. He's not family. And if I had hung him, my sister would be alive. Could I have pulled the lever if I knew not doing so would be the death of her? Honestly, I have no idea.

It's been so long since I've seen him. It had been even longer since I had seen most of my siblings. Maybe he's not even alive anymore, and the past few months were futile. I wonder how that girl is— Ambry. I've seen her siblings briefly as they worked throughout the palace, but Ambry was in the prison. The prison my siblings exploded parts of. Is she alive? Do I want to know the answer? Do I want to know how many deaths I've caused?

The answer is no.

My schedule is going to get super busy so updates for Insurrection and Exported are going to be hard. Would you rather me divide chapters into parts so you can have an update every week or have one full chapter every now and then when I finally get it finished?