Four In The Divergent Series Novels & Stories

My body moves to stand up. "Stay down Kitty." I moan standing up again, his hands pushing me down as I fight back. I watch as he moves, my body running for the door, his hands stopping me and pulling me back in. His hands push me down over the table, the rope wrapping around my body. "You wanted to be a brat; well you're getting punished like one." I moan as the rope holds me down over the table. "Four whips witch, count with me." I laugh slightly, unsure why, something about four is weird, usually, it is three, five, or ten, but four?

Amber said to him in a tone she didn’t recognize as her own. She didn’t wait to see his reaction. Hoped she’d fucking hurt him as she pulled the hood down over her head. Instantly, she felt suffocated, plunged into a deep darkness. She couldn’t breathe! This was how it all fucking ended, not with a bullet, but in this suffocating darkness… Chapter 41

At its center: a chair surrounded by seven orbiting disks, each linked to alternate memory strands. Evryn stepped into it. Her thoughts slowed as the system engaged. > “Initiating Multiversal Divergence.” > “Processor: Evryn Elaia.” > “Stabilizer: Kai Virek.” Kai’s voice cut in from the bridge. > “Ready when you are.” > “I’ll hold the anchor.” Evryn smiled faintly. “See you in the next thought.” And then her mind split. Inside the Divergence Seven versions of Evryn now existed—each slightly different. One never left the lab. One never met Kai. One joined the rebellion too late. One surrendered to the Project. One lost Elara. One saved her.

“So you can _love_ me? _Dad_?” Fire ran up her arms. Not controlled. _Wild_. _Hungry_. She looked at _Rylan_. “He’s _warm_,” Four said. “_I’m_ so _cold_, Mother. _Have been_ for _so long_. Since the _first_ time I _died_.” The fire _grew_. The mine started _melting_. “He’ll _warm_ me up,” Four said. “_One second_. That’s all I need. _One second_ of _him_ and I’ll _feel_.”

“A worthy opponent.” Veil stood silently by the window. “What now?” Daniel smiled coldly. “They think the game is over. But Chimera was never the end, it was the opening act.” He pressed a hidden panel. A new map appeared. Coordinates marked Phase Four: Prometheus Protocol. Veil frowned. “That’s still incomplete.” “It won’t be for long,” Daniel said. “And this time, no AI. No codes. Just me.” His reflection in the glass stared back like a stranger.

Every time the helicopter dipped, Ivy’s breath hitched, and she felt Dante’s chest expand in perfect, haunting synchronization. "Stay still," he rasped into the hollow of her throat. His voice was a jagged vibration that felt like it was carving his name into her skin. "The serum is still settling. If you move, the neural load will spike." "I can't feel my hands, Dante," Ivy whispered. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the frantic red pulse of the cabin’s emergency lights. The iridescent violet of the "Fourth Pulse" was gone, but in its place was a dark, liquid clarity. "It’s not the serum. It’s... it’s the Archive. It’s changing. It’s showing me things I don't want to see."

The sky was a flat, dull grey, like a screen that had been turned off but was still glowing with static. "Kaima?" I spun around. Standing in the middle of a street made of torn-up book pages was a man. He looked like Rowan, but his face was half-finished. One of his eyes was a beautiful, hazel spark of life. The other was just a rough pencil sketch—an empty circle with a dot in the middle. "Rowan?" I whispered, my heart breaking at the sight of him. "I'm not your Rowan," the man said. His voice sounded like it was being played on a broken record player. "I’m **Draft Four**. I was the version of him that was 'Too Angry.' They deleted me in the first week of production."

The intro music shook the floor, and from behind the curtains, five figures stepped out under the spotlights. “Divergent Howls, make some noise!” shouted the host on stage. The whole arena exploded in cheers. Phoenix led the team, his brown hair held back by a headband, eyes blazing with focus. The yellow jersey with black stripes made him look like a streak of sunlight in the middle of the arena. Behind him walked Hayden—with his cool, elegant aura; Finley—waving cheerfully to fans; Zion—confident and unshakable; and Adonis—with that calm, grounded energy.

The air seemed to freeze. I could imagine the tension between the three men outside my door. Anger. Jealousy. Possessiveness. The air was so thick I could choke on it. The funny thing was, not one of them had asked me what I wanted. Sterling’s dominance, Blake’s obsession, Kian’s regret… All of it, four years too late. It meant nothing to me. Jax once told me I was free. But right now, I felt trapped in an invisible net.

BROOKLYN POV The words hung in the air between us. Viviana stared at me for a long moment, her mouth hanging open. And then she screamed. Her phone flew from her hands, crashing to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. But she did not seem to notice. She was too busy staring at me as if I had grown a second head. "You are... you are mated to the four princes?" she breathed. "The four most powerful, most dangerous, most sought-after men in the supernatural world?"