The Gender End Bella Forrest (best mystery novels of all time TXT) 📖

Logan moved over to where Amber was sitting, on the bed next to Solomon’s, and dropped onto the mattress behind her. He said something, and Amber rolled her eyes silently in return. But as she turned to give him the cold shoulder, I noticed a small smile creeping across her lips.

I wasn’t able to comprehend or wonder about their drama right now. I stood back up, unable to sit any longer, and began to shift my weight back and forth, waiting impatiently. Morgan entered the room and made a beeline over to me, a nervous smile on her face.

“Hey, Violet, how are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” I replied tersely, shifting the bundle of flowers to my other hand again while I dragged my moist palm down the side of my dress. “You?”

Her green eyes darted around, and she nodded, her smile softening and dimming into a small frown. “Nervous.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my wedding. Technically I’m the only one entitled to be nervous.”

Morgan gaped at me for a second, and then grinned. “You’re becoming one of those bride monsters, Violet,” she teased, stepping around me and sitting down in the empty bed behind Jay’s. She pulled out a notebook and a pen, opened up to a page, and began reading, her mouth moving softly as she rehearsed whatever speech she had written.

Just when I thought I was going to crack under the pressure of it all, Viggo walked in, and everything just… stopped. It just did.

He looked amazing, with his crisp, perfect uniform and his long dark hair pulled back. For a second I felt like I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t even think—as I stared at him. Like he’d literally stolen the air straight out of my lungs just with his entrance. It was the traditional entrance for a Matrian wedding: the groom entered while the bride watched. He’d done it for me, without hesitation or any sign of balking, and I loved him all the more for it.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then Viggo moved purposefully over toward me, his long legs tearing up the floor to be by my side, reminding me of why the women of Matrus wanted their intended husbands to come to them, instead of the other way around. He walked with purpose and determination, no hesitation, both eager and confident to make his way to his soon-to-be-bride, in a way that made my heart pound heavily against my ribcage. As he moved, a thousand images and memories flooded through my head. All I could think was about was how we met—clutching his waist as I rode with him on his motorcycle through a peaceful Patrus, the long night he’d stayed by my side to nurse me back to health after I’d been bitten by the centipede in The Green, the sight of him when he’d opened the door to rescue me from the torture chamber that Tabitha had imprisoned me in when she’d put the knife through my hand. Those thoughts should’ve assuaged the bats flying around in my stomach, but they didn’t—they just made them swoop harder.

The only thing that brought me some calm was when Viggo reached out his hand to me. As soon as his hand was in mine, I immediately relaxed, melting under his steady touch. He smiled at me, giving a nervous chuckle, and I realized I hadn’t been the only one feeling that way. Even in separate rooms, across the compound from one another, we’d been having the same anxieties, contemplating this step toward our future together—and I realized that if Viggo and I had gotten through so many horrible things together, we could certainly get through this wonderful one.

Looking around the room, I confirmed that everyone was there: Tim, Owen, Jay, Quinn, Thomas, Solomon, Cody, Ms. Dale, Henrik, Amber, Logan, Drew, Mags, Morgan, Dr. Tierney, Alejandro, Jenny, Cad, Margot, Henry and Sarah, April, Cruz… the Liberators and refugees who had become close to us… and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly loved. Not just by Viggo, but by all of them. I was closer to some of them than others, and some of the invitations, like Drew, and Logan, if I were being honest, had been political or polite more than anything else, but still… We had fought together and lost people together, and that was not insignificant to me.

It was so touching to have family there—at a life event I never thought I’d have in a thousand years—and I was surprised to find myself tearing up as I looked at them.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice constricting a little bit. “I’m not even sure why I’m crying.”

“Because this is your last chance to make the right choice and run for your life,” Amber declared as she stood up and crossed over to me, passing me a handkerchief that I immediately used to dab my eyes. “You really are too good for this Croft fellow—if that is even his real name, after all.”

Amber’s catty remark made me laugh through the tears, and I continued to dab my eyes and cry, but I felt lighter on the inside than I could even describe. I pulled her in close for a hug, whispering a thank you, but she didn’t reply, just squeezed me a little tighter before letting me go.

“Not nice, Amberlynn,” Viggo said, emphasizing her name. “I’ll get you for this.”

She winked at Viggo, and then patted me on the cheek. “You’ll do great at this,” she whispered before slipping back toward her seat in front of Logan. “You and him both.”

“All right, is everyone here?” asked Morgan, putting down her notebook and dragging my attention over to her. I nodded, and she smiled. “Then we should get started?”

That earned another nod from me. I was too afraid to open my mouth for fear of shouting “I do!” as loud as possible, just to get it over with.

Morgan sucked in a deep breath, seeming to take a moment to calm herself, and then stood in front of the