Stars Above: A Lunar Chronicles Collection (The Lunar Chronicles) by Marissa Meyer

Brock.
    “I honestly didn’t think Master Jael could handle one more member,” Alpha Brock continued, smirking. “You must be pretty weak-minded for him to have taken you on.”
    Ran took half a step away. Z could see he was still dazed from the surgeries, his pupils dilated and a sheen of sweat on his brow.
    “Leave him alone, Brock,” said Z, stepping into the circle. It was the only time he could recall addressing him directly.
    Brock turned and peered at Z from the corner of his eye. “What’s that, Kesley?”
    “Give him some time. We all know you’re Alpha—you don’t have to bully every twelve-year-old kid who comes in here to prove it.”
    He thought he heard a snicker behind him, but it was stifled as Brock’s expression darkened. He turned toward him fully and Z was surprised at the relief that rushed into him. At least Brock wasn’t targeting Ran anymore.
    But then Brock spun so fast, his leg lifted for a roundhouse kick, that Z wasn’t sure he could have blocked it. Brock’s foot smashed into Ran’s head, hurtling him into Beta Rafe.
    White spots flashed in Z’s vision, and he didn’t realize what he was doing until a roar emerged from his throat and his fist collided with Brock’s jaw.
    Brock stumbled back, surprised, but it was short-lived. Snarling, he flew back at Z and used the leverage of Z’s second punch to spin him around, catching Z’s head in the crook of his elbow. With one arm pinned at his side, Z growled and tried to toss Brock over him, like he’d learned to throw others when they had him in such a position, but Brock was too big. Z’s free hand beat uselessly, pathetically against Brock’s ear.
    “This is my pack,” Brock said. “Don’t you ever tell me how to treat them.”
    The second he was released, Z pushed himself away. But Brock still gripped his wrist. As Z mindlessly sought to put distance between them, he felt something sharp puncture the flesh beneath his elbow. He cried out and yanked his arm away, and the sting ripped down his skin, cutting his flesh from elbow to wrist.
    Z stumbled away and clutched his arm against his chest. Brock grinned. He’d taken to filing his nails into knife-sharp points, a trend quickly picked up by the other pack members.
    Now Z understood why.
    Trying to ignore the pain and the blood dripping down between his fingers, he raised his fists for the next attack.
    But Brock merely wiped Z’s blood off on his pants and turned away, unconcerned about retribution as the rest of the pack watched.
    Z’s stomach sank as Brock turned and spat at his brother, who was still on the ground. Brock’s spit landed on his shoulder. Ran didn’t back away or bother to wipe it off.
    “Lesson number one,” said Brock. “Never let someone else take your fights for you.”
    Z didn’t let his fists down until Brock had led the rest of the pack away. Then he whipped off his shirt and wrapped the fabric around the wound. It didn’t take long for the blood to soak through.
    “Ran—are you all right? Is your jaw broken?” He stumbled toward his brother and held a hand toward him. But when Ran met his gaze, it was not with gratitude, but anger.
    “Why did you do that?” he said, rubbing his cheek. “Did you have to embarrass me on my first day?”
    Z drew back. “Ran…”
    Ignoring the extended hand, Ran climbed to his feet. “You always have to show me up. I thought this was my chance to prove myself, but of all the soldiers, I have to be grouped with you. Stuck in your shadow, again.” He shook his head, and Z thought maybe there was wetness in his eyes before he spun away. “Just leave me alone, Z. Just … forget we were ever brothers at all.”
    *   *   *
    It had been nearly five years since Z had undergone the genetic modifications. Five years without seeing his parents. Five years spent underground—fighting and brawling and training. Not another word had ever been spoken about the possibility of being chosen for the