Hundreds of years before the Illum ruled supreme, humanity risked everything to rebuild after a devastating war in this explosive dystopian romance and prequel to Twenty-three-year-old Sasha Cadell knows time is running out in the underground city, filled with survivors of the nuclear fallout six years ago. She works in tunnel expansion, trying to escape the memories of those she lost. Her bleak existence is upended when Tristian Hayes, a stunningly handsome, frustratingly determined commander of the Force, recruits her to join him and his elite team of fighters as they embark on a secret mission to the surface. Sasha is thrust into a brutal training with stakes far beyond mere survival. The fate of remaining humankind depends on their success--or failure. As she confronts her own demons, Sasha finds both allies and foes in the training program, as well as a sizzling attraction between her and Tristian that threatens the walls she''s built around her heart. But under the surface, secrets and deception run as rampant as illnesses. And not everyone will survive the rise of a power more terrifying than anything they’ve ever known.

Autorentext

Ariel Sullivan is the author of Conform. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, two sons, and their two French bulldogs. Growing up a military brat, Sullivan moved every two years. As a perpetual new kid, she often observed from the outskirts, where a deep love of reading was born. When she isn’t writing, Ariel Sullivan loves to read everything from poetry to psychology, bake with her sons, listen to live music, and travel.

Klappentext

**NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • To understand who controls the present, one must look to the past . . . Welcome to Beneath, the next installment in the Conform series.

This stunning hardcover features beautifully designed endpapers and a gorgeous custom-stamped case!

“A dystopian love story that will have you yearning for more.”—Us Weekly
**
Hundreds of years before Emeline is forced to conform, twenty-three-year-old Sasha Cadell dwells beneath in the underground city, filled with survivors of the recent nuclear fallout.

When Commander Tristian Hayes recruits her for a secret mission to the surface, Sasha is thrust into a brutal training with stakes far beyond mere survival. The fate of remaining humankind hangs in the balance.

As she confronts her own demons, Sasha finds both allies and foes in the training program, as well as a sizzling attraction between her and Tristian that threatens the walls she's built around her heart.

But under the surface, secrets and deception run as rampant as illnesses. And not everyone will survive the rise of a power more terrifying than anything they’ve ever known.**

The interconnected, centuries-spanning journey continues with Emeline in *Core—*coming February 2027.
**

Leseprobe
1

I f***ing hate humans.

Sirens pierced the air all around me.

Maybe that’s a bit harsh. Fine, I just hate humans.

The wailing sirens filled the tunnels, a deafening alert of yet another nuclear storm raging on the surface. We all huddled hidden beneath the ground like ants. What was left of us, anyway.

The last storm trapped us down here for months—or moons, as some people had taken to calling our survivalist passing of time. I just called it hell. But even that meant less and less as religions disappeared. I didn’t blame anyone for forsaking any of the gods they had once worshipped when not a single one had come to our aid.

Rations had diminished to crumbs in order to preserve provisions. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to losing the essential weight I had just put back on. I picked at my still-loose pants; at least I had a belt this time. I grimaced, remembering how I had come by the belt. The deceased patient I had taken it from. Survival. I twisted the black identification band around my left wrist.

You have to survive now, little flower. I doubted my father would still call me that if he had seen what I had become. The things I had done to survive.

Across from me, a little girl let out a small whimper, staring at me with wide, dark brown eyes, almost the same shade as mine. A green identification band glinted as she covered her ears. A man and a woman—her parents, I assumed—wrapped their bodies around the little girl—shielding her.

She couldn’t be older than three. Maybe four. The woman ran a comforting hand through her daughter’s hair. A family. An anomaly these days. A relic of life before the war; a life that little girl wouldn’t have been alive to see.

We had been dwelling almost entirely underground for six years now. The message auto-repeated on the radio along with the coordinates as the end approached.

All are welcome in Haven, humanity’s last hope!

I had delayed coming, the distrust and fear overwhelming. That had been a mistake. The idea of never seeing the sky, of being shut up with others who might have been an enemy . . . I hadn’t been able to stomach it. I fought against it, until I had no choice. Until I found myself sprinting here, desperate. Then, the reason for my desperation died.

I stayed simply because I had nowhere to go. No one and nothing.

I had been right to be wary; it was always dark. There was no tracking time besides the noises: bells, buzzes, and alarms. We were left to believe the sounds represented the passing of time. It was disorienting.

Now, it felt normal. That frightened me. But what other option did I have? The land above was uninhabitable, decimated by the war.

I was fifteen when the war started. Tensions worldwide had been on edge for some time, felt by all regardless of nationality. Then it happened; it had been a Monday. I was dressed for school, complaining about a math exam I didn’t want to take. I had pinned back my long, dark auburn hair with a pink bow to garner a reaction from my mother.

She told me the bow looked lovely while tending to my two younger siblings. I still remember her distracted smile.

Then my parents’ cellphones had started dinging. My father had read the screen before grabbing the remote. The news filled our home, and everything shifted. A permanent fracture in my life.

I hardly understood the gravity of it, but sometimes, those first harrowing images still drove me from my sleep all these years later. No one had been prepared for how quickly the war escalated. Technology broadcasted every moment across the entire world, into everyone’s homes and phone screens, the coverage inescapable. It felt like no time at all until those broadcasts reached our backyard. Until it was our towns and cities being shown, and the next, and the next. One endless live stream of humanity obliterating itself.

In two years, humans destroyed the planet, countries, hope, and one another. Fueled by anger and fear, the media our endless food source. The enemy had seemed faceless initially, some faraway assault threatening our safety; that had been easier. Once food and resources became scarce, neighbors became the enemy. Then illness turned loved ones into the enemy. I had kept mine alive while terrified I too would fall ill. I never caught it, but they didn’t get better.

Now, I was alone. I wiggled my cold toes in my oversize boots.

There had been billions of people before the war. Here at Haven, the population was a tiny fraction of that. It had felt like a lot in the beginning, each day bringing droves of people. The tunnels had felt cramped. Sleeping arrangements were scarce. But the nuclear storms picked up, and the doors closed. Those left above died. The supplies dwindled, and people began to starve. Cramped places bred disease. Suddenly, sleeping arra…