The Fourth Eaton

Chapter 23 🔪 Eyes

After being insulted by Marcus on a lot of things, especially my appearance, it's nice to hear that someone, other than my brother, sincerely likes how I look.

And I just know that Rowan is sincere; it shows in his anxiety-filled voice, his fidgeting fingers, and, most of all, his hazel eyes, even in the flecks of gold.

Another few minutes pass; we walk silently but comfortably, and the blush on my cheeks reduces to the point where I can look at Rowan again.

But it doesn't stay that way for much longer.

Suddenly, I spot someone, wearing full black clothes and a black mask, jump out of the shadows behind us in my peripherals. I wheel around, fists raised in a defensive posture, but he completely ignores me. Instead, he goes for Rowan.

As fast as a cheetah, he tackles Rowan to the ground. My heart rate spikes as Rowan cries out. But before I can move another muscle, the person - presumably a man, based on his physique - raises his fist and brings it down on Rowan's head. Rowan's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls limp. Unconscious.

A strangled sound cuts through the air. It takes me a second to realize that I am the one who made it.

The man gets up slowly, then turns to me. For one long second, he stares at me, and I stare at him.

The only feature of him that's visible are his eyes. They're a distinct shade of light blue that spark vague familiarity in me.

Where have I seen those eyes before?

And then, a flash of memory comes to me.

"Oh, no, young lady." His icy blue eyes bore into me intensely. "The fault is entirely mine."

It's the man. The man who was watching me on the day we went ziplining. The man who I ran into at the tattoo shop.

The man who just knocked out one of my friends.

The realization makes me freeze in place; this man knocked out Rowan, the second-ranked in his group physically, with ease. And now, his attention is on me.

Even without his element of surprise, I can't take him. He's got at least half a foot on me, and, if his knockout punch to Rowan was any indication, he's strong.

But I have to try, for both my sake and Rowan's. But not here. Not now.

In Dauntless, backing down from a fight is cowardly. But that's a problem with the people of this faction; their need to prove themselves ranks above their good reason.

I am partially Dauntless. That never-back-down attitude is a part of me, too. But I also have the relative rationality of the Abnegation, and I can see past some lines that the regular Dauntless cannot.

I don't want to leave Rowan here, knocked out on a cold stone floor. He deserves better.

But if I try to fight this man here, there's a possibility, however slight, that Rowan could get hurt. There's also the possibility that the man could use him against me. And I know that if this man asked me to come with him to ensure Rowan's safety, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

I need to lead this man away from here. I need to buy Rowan enough time to wake up and get out of here, to the infirmary, preferably.

Not that Rowan would do that. He would probably run after the man and I and try to fight him, even if he was woozy from a potential concussion. And I wouldn't be able to say anything about it without sounding like a huge hypocrite, because I know I would do that too.

Less thinking, more moving right now.

I finally come to my senses, and take a slow step backwards, careful to not expose my back to him.