His Selected Mate

Chapter 7

The week passed by with no new events. I went on a few more dates. Some were like Marlee, in that I felt nothing romantically, and others held promise. Sylvia had begun a few history lessons with the girls. Mom told me about this. When she was in Father's Selection, the Selected would be given small classes and work on generic things and as the group got smaller, the topics would become more government centered. Preparing them to one day become the princess.

I was passing by the doors that led to the gardens on my way to a meeting when I spotted America making her way around a tall hedge. I wanted to join her but my responsibilities came first. I didn't want Father to think I was slacking off because of the Selection. Maybe I could meet up with her later. Suddenly there was shouting. A group of guards with their guns drawn came running around the corner.

"Your Majesty," cried one of them. "We need to get you to a safe room. The royal one is too far. They're inside the walls." He moved to grab my arm but I moved out of the way. "Lady America is in the gardens. She needs to be brought in immediately. Now!" Three ran outside and 30 seconds later they came back, towing America behind them. "What's going on?" she asked, eyes wide. "It's a rebel attack. We need to get to a safe room. Come on." I grabbed her hand and didn't let go. We were led to the end of a hallway when one the guards pressed a panel on the wall and revealed a passage. I led America inside and the door was shut behind us.

I felt along the wall for a light switch and found it. Looking around it wasn't one of the best ones. There was a cot and a sink that was also a crude toilet. "Are we safe here," she asked, breaking the silence. "Yes, it's for the unfortunate servants who find themselves in the halls during an attack. It isn't as big as the Royal Safe Room but it'll work in a pinch. I moved to sit down on the bed and patted the spot next to me. She moved to sit down and let out a sigh. "I don't know how you deal with this Maxon. These constant rebel attacks. Which group do you think it is?" There was something off about her. She was on edge. "It was hard to tell, we'll know for sure once we're out."

"And how long will that take?" she said desperate. Her breathing was becoming heavier. My hand made its way to her back and I started rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. "America, are you alright?" She had to take a few deep breaths before responding. "I-I just don't like being closed in, t-that's all." I moved my hand in circles. "You're claustrophobic?" I asked. "I didn't know until now. Last t-time we were in the Dining Hall. It was big and o-open." Her breathing wasn't getting any better. It was getting heavier. "Maxon," she gasped. She turned to me in her desperation for help and her eyes flashed yellow. I pulled back. What the hell was that? I didn't imagine it and I'm not going crazy. It was slow enough to be imprinted in my mind but quick enough that her normal blue eyes were back. She brought her hands to her head and put her head between her legs, trying to control her breathing.

Slowly, I moved back towards her and put my hand on her back. Whatever happened doesn't matter. She needed my help. "Take deep breaths America. That's it. In...out." I repeated that until her breathing evened out. Eventually she brought her head back and looked at me. "Thank you Maxon." She reached out her hand to mine hesitantly, wondering if I would let her. Of course, I would. I moved my hand the rest of the way and was met with sparks and tingles as soon as our hands were threaded. I shuddered and took a deep breath. She had to feel this, there's no way she couldn't. I needed to know.

"America?" "Yes?" she responded quietly. "Do you feel them too? Please tell me you feel the sparks too." She was quiet before she nodded. "Yes, Maxon, I feel them too." We sat there with our hands locked together when the door was opened. "Your Highness, the palace has been secured." I nodded then asked, "Are my parents and the Selected alright?"

"Yes, they all made it to the safe room." I led America and myself out of the safe room and saw that everything was relatively clean, a few broken windows but nothing serious. We made our way upstairs. "It was the Northern Rebels," I said quietly. "I figured," she responded. I was still a little unnerved by her yellow eyes but I put it away. She was still America regardless of what that was. I dropped her off at her door when she asked, "I'll see during the Report?"