Four looked at me with concern as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, wrapped in aluminum foil, and handed it to me.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look terrible."

I took the chocolate with a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just exhausted. I didn't sleep well. And Norman lied to Joana so I could stay home, that way Aixa wouldn't suspect anything."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your father seems to be acting differently than what you've told me. Are you sure he was always the villain in your story?"

I furrowed my brow as I opened the chocolate. "It's complicated. Sometimes people change, or maybe I didn't see everything clearly before. But right now, he's showing me a side I didn't expect."

Peter entered the room with a basket of fruit, setting it down on the nightstand. He greeted me with a smile, seemingly unbothered by Four's earlier reaction.

"Hi, I figured you wouldn't be alone. It looks like you and Four have gotten along well," he said, glancing between Four and me.

He then scrutinized my appearance, confused. "You don't look as sick as Four made it sound."

Four, standing by the door with his arms crossed, wore an unmistakable scowl of discomfort. Peter's comment about Four and me being alone seemed to irritate him even more.

"Four, if you wanted to be alone with Grace, you could have just told me," Peter huffed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed where Four had been moments before.

Peter's insinuation, laced with malice, made my stomach churn, but I masked it with a smirk, trying to keep the upper hand. I glanced at Four, who was still leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, clearly as uneasy as I was.

The tension in the room was thick, and I could feel my hands trembling slightly, so I quickly shifted in bed, trying to hide it. Four rolled his eyes at Peter's comment, his voice flat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Peter ignored Four's dismissiveness, a grin still plastered on his face. "Come on, Grace. We're fugitives, remember? We need to stick together, for better or worse. Your health is our health. We need to unite in courage and fight against the corrupt oppressors that have weakened us... Or well, weakened you guys. I just tagged along because they forced me to talk, and if they catch me, I'm dead because I gave them some valuable information." He laughed lightly as if this were all just a game.

I narrowed my eyes at him, clearly annoyed. "So you gave them information, huh? What kind of information?"

"Where they were controlling the Dauntless, obviously," he said smugly.

I quirked an eyebrow. "And how exactly were you awake to see all that?"

Peter smirked, puffing out his chest. "I'm smart. They saw my record and my 'outstanding performance' in Dauntless, so they decided to wake me up."

I couldn't help but let out a small, humorless laugh. His arrogance was predictable, and it wasn't hard to imagine him siding with whoever could give him the best advantage. I looked at Four, who seemed skeptical.

"Is that possible?" Four asked, directing his question to me.

Peter, feigning offense, jumped in, "What? You don't believe me?"

"No one believes you, Peter," I said flatly. "But yes, it's possible. They only kept awake those who were on board with the massacre of Abnegation. They probably promised him something good." I turned back to Four.

Peter's grin widened, and he leaned in, almost conspiratorially. "And the Divergents were just errors in the system that needed to be eradicated. Did the serum hurt, Grace? How did it feel to know it didn't work on you?"

I rolled my eyes at him, resisting the urge to let his words get under my skin. "I wasn't even injected, you idiot."

The memories flooded back—Eric keeping me from being injected, shielding me from Jeanine's experiments. I still didn't fully understand how he'd managed it, but I was grateful. Even though I was immune, the guilt of the lives that might have been lost because of my inaction weighed heavily on me. I didn't have the luxury of indulging Peter's petty provocations; I had more important things to focus on.

I got out of bed quickly, walking towards them.
"Leave it, Four. The thing is, he's just an idiot who can't stand being left out of plans, and all he does is try to get attention."

"Is that what you think I do?"Peter asked with a laugh.

"Yes, all you do is disrupt the order. You said it yourself, didn't you? We're a team, and you're not doing a good job." I said firmly as Four let him go.

"And what do I see at night? You go out on horseback, and right after, Four follows. Or yesterday, Four didn't even come back to sleep. And that hickey on your neck today, which wasn't there yesterday." he raised his eyebrows with a smile, not only making me shiver but also catching Four's attention as he turned to check that there were indeed several marks on my neck. "Yes, you're right, I don't know exactly what's going on, but that doesn't mean Tris isn't going through the same thing."

"You insist on mixing my damn sex life with the plan we have in place," I muttered.

"Then explain it to me," he murmured. 'Since the only man you spend time with is Four.

His way of reaching the conclusion was irritating, but smart enough to expose us because he had hit the mark. I sighed, if I don't tell him, he'll go to Tris, and everything will go to hell, at least for Four. But if I tell him at least a fraction of the plan, not only will it calm him down, but it will also confirm that there's something going on between Four and me. 

"We're going to attack the fence. There's a group of 170 Dauntless willing to fight with us. We need weapons, and we're looking for a way to get them. Otherwise, we'll have to join forces with the Factionless," I explained to him. 

"Interesting," he said with a laugh, looking at Four. "I misjudged you."

"Just go, idiot," I muttered bitterly. 

Peter raised his hands in a gesture of peace while silence enveloped us. Both Four and I felt the need to stay on guard against him as he left the room, then the house entirely. We both looked at each other with long faces, and I crossed my arms. 

"I don't know how, but he knows," I murmured. 

"I know," Four nodded. "But I never gave you a mark on your neck," he said, placing his hands on his hips. 

"Oh please, Four. That's the least of it,"I growled, rolling my eyes. 

"Who was it." Four asked. 

"Just forget about that mark. Focus on Peter, who's smarter than we thought."

"You didn't have that mark yesterday. I lost sight of you for four hours, and it was because you were at the fence, and you came back with that,"he pointed at my neck. 

"You're so annoying, just leave," I said, walking past him and out of the room. "Go to Tris, tell her you love her, tell her our damn plans so she feels secure that we're not having any sexual encounters, and if Peter tells her, she can tell him to go to hell."  I said as I approached the door and opened it to show him out. 

Four left without saying another word. Both of us were angry and, in a way, scared.

***********************

"We're lost, Uriah," I murmured. "Without weapons, there's no other option."

It was nighttime, and despite how tired I was and my desire to get some sleep and return to my routine, I abandoned those thoughts to go to Uriah.This time, we dared to walk to the destroyed houses, where the area was deserted because it was too dangerous, and the houses could collapse at any moment. But for Uriah and me, it was a safe place to talk.

"Convince Jack Kang," he shrugged. "You're good at talking, you and Four could go to him," he suggested.

"We won't be able to get near the door without being arrested and killed. You said it yourself; it's a fortress. Jeanine guards it—or rather, they keep him far from reality because Candor is a strong faction."

"But they are the bad guys. Jack has to know the truth," Uriah insisted.

"Yes, I know. That's why Jeanine has him hidden. They've blinded Jack, it's impossible."

"Are you going to give up?" he asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Of course not," I frowned, turning to face him. I stopped walking and crossed my arms. "I just need to think, that's all."

"Then why are we here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see you," I admitted, shrugging. "We see each other twice a week, and without fail, I've always had something to ask of you, you give me information, or we plan something. But this time, I have nothing; I'm telling you what I know, and the only thing I want is your company. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, of course not," Uriah smiled without showing his teeth, walked over to me, and hugged me.

And I wasn't lying. When I arrived, I told him how I failed to take the weapons at the fence, omitting Eric. And during our walk to the houses, he only offered ideas, but I have none. I just want to be with him, for him to tell me that I'm a good person and that what we're doing is right.
At his side, there's no guilt, no regrets, no anger. When I'm with Uriah, I feel like the heroine of Chicago.

"Everything will be okay, we'll figure it out," he murmured. 

He pulled away from me and kissed my forehead, making me smile. "Today, don't think about how to save the world. Instead, think about how to keep that Hall guy calm; he's been wanting to see you ever since he found out you're alive." 

I smiled from ear to ear. "Bring him to the next meeting. I'd like to see him." 

"Alright, I'll see what I can do to avoid drawing attention," he nodded. 

"How's that going? Are you still in hiding?" I whispered. 

"Yes, only the Dauntless know where I am. We can't trust the Candor with anything, but they're clumsy, and I can stay in their faction most of the time without them noticing," we continued walking. 

"And Marlene? Lynn? How are they?" I asked. 

"They're fine. Lynn is already itching to kick some ass," we both laughed at his comment. It was something natural for her, an energetic flame growing in her chest. She was incredible, and I missed her so much. "And Marlene... we've started dating," he murmured the last part seriously. 

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and let out a laugh. "That's amazing, it was about time."

"But, Grace, you have to listen to me," he murmured, stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "There's something you need to know. I can't hide it anymore and..."

"No, don't say it," I interrupted, shaking my head and trying to pull away, but it was useless as he held onto my shoulders.

"I like you," he admitted. "I really care about you, and I think I lo—"

"No, you don't love me," I cut him off, raising my hand to emphasize what he was about to say.
"You don't know how I feel."

I laughed. "No, but you don't love me. You love Marlene."

"Yes, I really like her a lot, but... I can't forget you, Grace. You're not easy to forget."

"I'm just a whim."

"Of course not, I can love both of you and..."

"Have you kissed her yet?" I interrupted him.

"Yes."

"Did you feel anything?" 

"I suppose... well, yes." 

"Kiss me," I asked. 

"What?" he asked, surprised. 

"Yes, kiss me," I shrugged. 

He seemed indecisive, but even so, he leaned in and connected his lips with mine. It was a timid kiss—I had to take the initiative, and we kissed in the middle of the abandoned ruins of Chicago. 
I intertwined my fingers in his curly hair, and though it started as a shy kiss, his lips gained enough confidence to deepen it, but with a pressure that felt somewhat uncertain. 
He pulled away almost immediately, regaining his serious composure. 

"What did you feel?" I murmured.

"Nothing," he admitted. "I waited so long for this moment, and now that it's here... I don't know, I expected something magical. I mean, don't get me wrong, you kiss amazingly, but I didn't feel the same as when I kiss..."

"Marlene," I finished with a smile. "Do you understand now? I was just a whim."

"Now I feel guilty," he murmured.

"I'm sorry, it was the only way I could think of to make you understand."

"I need to go to her..." he half-closed his eyes and swallowed. "I won't tell her I kissed you, she trusts you too much and cares about you, but I need to be with her."

"Go to her, champ," I nodded, giving him a smile without showing my teeth. "This kiss never happened, okay?"

"Understood," he nodded. "Do you want me to take you to the edge of the fence? I can't let you go alone."

"That's not necessary, don't worry. Just go," I laughed.

He gave me a strong hug and, with a smile, jogged away from here, desperate; as if he had found the revelation of something he had always ignored but had always had. And I'd like to say that I felt guilty for encouraging him to kiss me while he's in a relationship, but I can't. It was the only way for him to understand.

"I couldn't help but notice you're handing out kisses," the voice in the background made me roll my eyes. "Where's the line, gorgeous?"

I turned slightly, seeing Edgar leaning against a pile of cement. He smiled at me, and I returned the smile as I walked toward him.

"Are you following me?"

"The street is my territory, as far as I'm concerned, you're in my domain."

"Are you saying you've been listening to our conversations?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Some." he said, biting his lower lip as he stood up, placing himself in front of me and stroking my cheek. "Your problem is the weapons—you'll kill Jeanine and Max. You have an internal conflict with your ex, Eric. Not to mention that you don't want to join us because you don't trust Evelyn." He half-closed his eyes with amusement.

"Hasn't anyone told you that spying is bad manners?" I whispered.

"Sometimes. Why?" He tilted his face closer to mine.

"Did you tell Evelyn?" I asked, feeling cornered. The lack of oxygen was increasing, and his caresses on my cheek were only amplifying the feelings building in my lower abdomen.

"No, gorgeous. I know you'll come around sooner or later, and you'll come to me," he smiled.

I had to press my lips together and swallow, and I also crossed my legs and pressed them together to contain what I was trying to deny feeling.

"Stop denying it, Grace."

He asked me for sex, but I didn't want to give it to him. However, the tension I felt at that moment was conflicting, and it forced me to reconsider his request. I suppose I still have lingering effects from what happened with Eric that day. I still find myself desiring him, and my body just demands attention.

A kiss doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

To hell with it.

I couldn't take it anymore. I just had to move a few inches closer to him to bring our lips together.

I never thought it would happen. In my right mind, I never imagined myself kissing Edgar, but here I was, immersed in his control, with his actions firm and, in a way, violent.

But I liked it this way. It drove me wild, and I gave in to the fiery kiss full of caresses that made me beg. And although I didn't let it go any further, I admit that I enjoyed that kiss.

                  *********************
Omniscient's POV

Finally, the king was reunited with his queen.

Or so Eric thought when he returned to Dauntless with a smile on his face, a smile that even Jeanine herself couldn't erase. For a moment, he wondered what he would do next. It was evident he couldn't have his girl back with him, but he didn't want to spoil the day. He concluded he would return in the next three days to see her again, wanting to enjoy her presence before taking any steps that might be a mistake.

Eric was a master of deceit, an ace in the field, and consequently, managed to alternate the days at the fence with Max. All thanks to Grace, who had left two Dauntless members unconscious in her wake. Everything was going according to plan, as he assured Max that he had enough evidence to find the culprit. Only he could track down the mysterious girl.

Mike had not said a word; according to him, he couldn't describe his attacker. Meanwhile, the girl who should have been on the security cameras gave all possible clues: a woman, average height, brown hair, Dauntless clothing. Although she didn't see her face, Max showed her pictures of Grace and Tris, and the girl was certain it was likely the first.

Eric made it clear to Max that he would be part of this search, and Max agreed. No one wants to work at the fence, so for Max, it was a great opportunity to keep himself occupied.

His solace was her body, her scent, her skin, the way he saw her again when he reached climax; it was simply exquisite to him. He reveled in the memories of yesterday while sitting on the sofa with a beer in hand. She was on his mind, just her, no one else.

He had a frown on his face, hating to feel this way—so vulnerable—but he refused to suppress it. The heat gave him life, a damn reason to wake up the next day. He took a sip of his drink while stroking Horus with his other hand. He wanted to take him with him, to show him that he had his best interests at heart. Deep down, he wanted to feel worthy of Grace again, for her to accept him and want to be with him once more. But he was the bad guy, and Grace didn't deserve to be with someone like Eric.

The knocks on the door echoed through the room, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him get up and walk toward it.

"What do you want?" he asked bitterly.

"I'm not one of your whores, respect me," Max growled, making Eric roll his eyes.

"We probably have the girl," Max smiled.

"Who is it?" Eric asked, trying to sound disinterested while internally he was a bundle of nerves.

"A Dauntless who used to tattoo until she decided to retire. I think her daughters are in the same line of work. Her name is Monica. We found evidence that she's been giving information about Dauntless to someone."

Knowing it wasn't Grace's name relieved him; he nodded, disinterested, as it wasn't the girl who had knocked out the Dauntless members at the fence.

"Who is that someone?"

"We don't know yet. We want you to help us; you're good at getting the truth. We think it might be Grace, but she won't talk," Max exhaled.

"Alright, let's go," Eric shrugged.

"The problem is, her daughters are very upset. They think she's innocent, so having her here would be dangerous."

"What are their names?" Eric asked.

"Victoria and Samantha," Max replied.

The blonde averted his gaze, clenching his jaw. Hearing the name of his tattoo artist was the last straw for him. How could he torture the mother of his friend?

"Take her to the other cells. Make sure no one sees her, and if anyone asks, tell them she's in Truth for questioning," Eric instructed as he entered his room to grab his weapons.

"Since when do you care about being discreet?" Max asked with amusement.

"It doesn't matter," Eric muttered irritably.

"Tell them not to touch her until I arrive," Eric added.

Max rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to dig further, but he always noticed even the smallest changes in Eric. He knew him well enough to see that his humanity surfaced around a girl. First it was Grace who caused a shift in him; now he was sure it was that redhead. He was about to broadcast a warning over the radio when the knocks were heard again.

Both leaders turned to the entrance, finding the redhead appearing timid in the presence of the men.

"I think they're calling you," Max announced, confirming that this girl was indeed the cause of the change in Eric. He never used to refuse pre-torture from Dauntless members.

"What?" Eric asked sharply.

Alex was startled by the attitude of this man, whom he had imagined would greet her romantically. One where he would open the door and welcome her with open arms, spend the night by her side, and hear about her day.

"Can we talk?" Alex murmured.

"I'm busy."

"Come on, Eric. Don't be rude," Max smiled. "The woman can wait; she's not going anywhere." He crossed his arms. Max wouldn't have this conversation with the person who was causing Eric's "humanitarian" attitude, so he masked his evident interest, trying to understand—if it wasn't Alex, who could it be?

The blonde rolled his eyes and walked toward her, approaching the doorframe with the intention of staying as far away from Max as possible.

"What?"

"When did you arrive?" the girl murmured, moving closer to him, placing her hand on his chest and leaning her body slightly toward him.

However, this was the last straw. Eric pushed her away, returning to a straight posture with his arms crossed. "I... I thought, I thought you would come looking for me," she murmured.

She felt embarrassed, reverting to the humiliated girl, and had no choice but to step back. She looked him in the eyes, waiting for regret, another apology.

"It doesn't matter. Just forget everything, okay? Don't do anything stupid and forget about me."

For Eric, this was the simplest thing to say. His mouth just spoke, and he let himself be carried away by the urge to make things clear. She was no longer the girl he wanted, and if he had to choose, the redhead wouldn't be the winner.

But Alex felt her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. It was like knives stabbing her chest, one after another, in an suffocating manner.

"What? How?" she asked in a small, fragile voice that revealed the shattering of her dreams.

"Yes, you heard right. It's over."

The first tear fell from the girl's green eyes. Her act of vulnerability made him roll his eyes and sigh in frustration. For him, ending things was easy; the difficult part was tolerating the grieving process.

"Stop crying, Alex. I knew this would happen. Just get over it. We were never anything; I'm not the man for you," he murmured. The last thing he wanted was for Max to mock him over this comment.

She bit her lip firmly and nodded. She didn't want to make a scene, especially not in front of the faction leader, who was watching them with curiosity.

Maybe he was tired, she thought.

And if he was, he wanted to sleep, and his priority wasn't the redhead or torturing his friend's mother. The brunette was on his mind—only her.

He turned on his heel and walked down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Eric sighed and returned to Max, who had failed miserably at hiding his smile.

"Seriously?" Max asked mockingly. "'I'm not the man for you'—what nonsense," he laughed. "Aren't you soulmates, Eric?"

Eric rolled his eyes, making a grimace. He had heard the comment and knew it was just the beginning of endless mockery.

          *******************************

She couldn't stop crying; it was tear after tear, and she felt like a wrapper being thrown away into the trash. A waste that was only used and discarded, or a toy that was tossed to the floor in a corner of the room when the children got bored, never to be the most important thing in their lives again.

Her pillow was not only a witness to her misery; her friend Rosa was by her side after those nightly disappearances. Rosa gently caressed her back, providing warmth to her body. She tried to revive her heart, hoping it would show signs of life and that she would smile again.

But it was useless; Eric had sunk his fangs deep into her soul.

And while the redhead cried, her best friend had a resounding "I told you so" written on her forehead. It was her duty as a foster sister to remind her of the wise words from months ago. It was clear that this would happen, and she was thankful it was this way, rather than ending like Eric's previous relationship.

"I just don't understand," she sobbed. "We were perfect, he was only going to be away for a whole day in the berry fields, and when he came back, 'pff', it was over."

"Yeah, he's a jerk," the dark-haired girl murmured, rolling her eyes.

"What changed?"

"He's a womanizer, Alex. Maybe he found another toy in the berry fields, and that's it," she shrugged.

And it was a comment that triggered another wave of heartbreaking tears from Alex. "I was just a toy," she sobbed in a cry.

"Sorry," Rosa murmured, raising her eyebrows as she realized she had hurt her friend again.

But that's how love is, right? It can be a world full of roses and rainbows; one day you're up, and when it's unrequited, you're down. Alex had to understand this because she fell in love with a wounded man who was just looking for his girl again.

"Maybe he has someone else in the berry fields," Rosa murmured after a silence, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Maybe... he found someone better in the berry fields."

"There's no one better than you, Alex," she whispered. "Just forget it."

But she couldn't. She wanted to know what had changed, what had pushed him to leave her, to discard her when just days ago he had apologized for hitting her.

Nothing made sense. She was a witness to how Eric had avoided the berry fields, and now that he had to go, he came back changed, distant, and it didn't take him long to throw her away.

She wanted to go confront whatever was stealing Eric's attention, even if it meant her pride would be on the floor. She just hoped Grace would be in the mood to tolerate the situation.