America's POV:

The artificial light of the bunker hums calmly down at me. If you watched it close enough, it even appeared to waver, moving in and out of focus. I could use allot more of that, recently. Focus....

It had been weeks since the 'incident' happened.

Since I woke to the prince of Illea holding me, claiming I was his America. The particularly handsome prince who just so happened to want my death. Bad luck, I suppose. Biting back a slight sigh, I close my eyes.

Why do things always have to be so complicated?

The king was absolutely repulsive. Just the sight of him made Prince Maxon look like an ally. And then the king had called in the guards to take me to the dungeons.

Last I remembered, I had been shot. At the execution...what was supposed to be my execution.

For some reason, the annoyingly handsome prince had intervened. The same prince who had tried to stop me from being taken by the king's guards. The same prince whom wanted to kill me, yet seemed hurt by my lack of knowing him on an emotional level.

The rebels intercepted my little reunion party heading for the dungeons. They killed them all in a flash, and took me along with them. To the bunker I'm currently ignoring society in.

Before this all, I was a part of them. A rebel. So it would appear they decided on a little rescue mission for me, after my so-called execution. Very helpful, guys.

Anyways, there is a standard code here. You get yourself captured, you get yourself out. That should have been the case with me.

But it wasn't.

And it all made complete sense.

Sarcasm Noted.

Letting out a sigh, I get up and begin to prepare for the day ahead. Something tells me it's going to be a long one.

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Thank you guys so much for your continued support!! I really appreciate it 🙃 I would like to apologize for my continued inactivity, as well as all the plot holes in this story. I plan to go back and edit it, eventually. Have a great day!! 👍