DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book, the idea or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie or at least close to it with a few changes.

"HOPE BEGINS IN THE DARK"

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
JUNE 1, 2175

Tris felt her breath catch, a scream catching in the back of her throat as she leapt, defying gravity, hurling her body from the fast moving train towards the building's ledge, the world trembling beneath her feet.

She let go of her tight grasp on the former Candor's hand, landing on the roof with one knee bent, the other leg stretched out behind her, leaning forward with her arms supporting her.

She rose from her crouched position, her spine straightening, surprised at the graceful ease which she managed to land. Laughing softly, she tilted her head back, the late afternoon sun burning her upturned face.

"How did you manage that?" Christina gasped as she stumbled to her feet, pressing a hand to her side, attempting to ease the soreness of her ribs. "Land on your feet?"

"I have no idea." Tris admitted to her newly found friend, barely resisting the urge to spin in a gleeful circle, her eyes alight with vibrant excitement, a smile she was unable to control curving her lips. "I just did it."

She had placed the amulet around her neck after she had chosen her new Faction, she had felt a newfound sense of possibilities.

Almost a immediately a glowing sensation raced up her spine, strengthening her body, lightening her movements. So dizzying, so sharp, so fast, she struggled to catch her breath.

And then it had ended as quickly as it had begun, but she knew something had changed.

She had changed.

It was wonderful, she realized as her mind raced. She felt recklessly foolish, amazingly free as the wind whipped through her hair, the strength unwinding the tight bun, leaving a tangle of honeyed strands tumbling down her back.

Her father had been furious with her choice.

Andrew Prior's angered face had paled, his trembling lips pressed together in a scowl of displeasure. But her mother. Her mother's eyes had glowed fiercely with pride and a shadow of relief had passed quickly across her face.

Her father had run her life, her choices with a firm hand. Never unkind, but never overly affectionate, he had possessed little patience and understanding for what he considered unpredictable spirited daughter.

Her every movement, each statement and breath had been analyzed, twisted and turned inside out leaving only a bitter taste of dissatisfaction.

She had been desperate to breathe. And now she could.

Tris grabbed Christina's hand, shouldering ahead as the new initiates walked towards the leaders of Dauntless awaiting their arrival.

He stood motionless on the edge of the war torn building, poised in the fading light casting shadows across his chiseled features. His shoulders stretched against the fabric of his black jacket, the suggestion of power emphasized by the strong line of his back tapering down to lean hips, the muscular ease of his stance evident. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, a faux hawk of light brown hair shot through with streaks of dark blonde.

Confidence, she decided, watching as he lazily walked along the thin ledge with the ease, his powerful body relaxed, all long bone and hard muscle. It seemed so easy for him. Being in control, a sea of nameless face didn't jangled his nerves or shake his poise in the least.

She let her gaze trail over the bronzed curve of his jaw and finely carved nose before settling on his eyes, her breath drawing in sharply.

She knew him.

She knew his taste.

He had haunted her dreams for months, pushing her, taunting her.

Loving her.

"Alright, listen up. My name's Eric. I'm one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in. And if you don't jump then you don't belong in Dauntless."

There was something lethal in his choice of wording, his movements, a predator's grace and power.

No, she acknowledged with a shiver of appreciation. He looked as hard and as cold as his position demanded that he be.

He was a trained soldier, the youngest and most ruthless leader of his Faction. His eyes burned with the truth of a dangerous age.

"Is the water at the bottom or something?" Tris glanced over her shoulder at the young man dressed in dark blue, his brow crinkled, worry etched across his handsome face.

"I guess you'll find out." Eric taunted softly, watching them through narrowed eyes as Tris stiffened at his tone. "Or not."

"We just jumped and he wants us to jump again." she heard Christina murmur softly, running her hand through her already disheveled dark hair.

"Well someone has to go first. Who's it going to be?"

No hand was raised.

He smiled slowly, deliberately, adding almost a wicked coldness to his features. He took a step, sleek muscles contracting and gracefully fell back, his arms stretched out wide to the side.

Tris gasped, quickly moving forwards, her hand uselessly reached out as if to stop him. She walked towards the ledge, pulling her grey cotton coat from her shoulders as she went.

She would follow him. Willing. She just needed his name.

"Yeah, Stiff, take it off." Peter scoffed, laughing loudly at his own comment. "No, put it back on."

Steadily, she ignored Peter's comment, throwing her jacket in his face as she passed him. She balanced, staring down into the dark hole that beckoned her.

Jump, she thought, just jump and be brave.

Without hesitation she leapt forward, shrieking lightly as her body plunged into the darkness. For a moment, she felt weightless, free falling until she abruptly bounced against a heavy netting.

A hand grasped the edge of the net, yanking the thick ropes, causing her body to tilt to the side.

His mouth curved, slow and devilish into that familiar smirk that taunted her dreams as his striking cerulean blue eyes locked on hers. The intense gaze darkened as her caressed over her form, examining the glossy mass of chestnut and blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulder and midway down her back to the curve of breasts and and her slender legs peeking out beneath her grey dress.

She felt the strength of his hands as his head bent toward her, staring directly into her eyes, trapping her in the burning possession she saw there , making her blood rush hotly through her veins.

The man pressed against her cleverly assaulting her senses was not an illusion. He was finally flesh and blood that made her want to taste the texture of his skin.

Arousing, irresistible. Fatal.

Those words suited him well.

"I should have known." he murmured to himself.

Eric Coulter's stomach muscles contracted abruptly in reaction to the petite blonde peering up at him through thick black lashes, her luminous eyes glossed with shadows of shared dreams.

She reached out placing her hands on the curve of his broad shoulders as she attempted to smile.

He took an infinitely long getting her to the ground, however. His hands spanned her waist when he pulled her towards him. His hand scorched through the thin material on her lower back, feeling the softness, the delicate bones.

His tongue slid over his bottom lip, pulling it back between his teeth as she gripped his forearms for balance. Shivers of awareness crept over her arms and down her spine as he held her gaze steadily.

"What's your name?" He rasped the question that had haunted him for months.

Wordlessly she stared at him.

"Today initiate."

Her eyes narrowed, the tapered chin tilted in a challenge towards him. The woman facing him didn't lack self-confidence, and she didn't appear the least intimidated by him now.

She would give him what he challenged, what he demanded of her.

She was not weak.

Eric recognized that fact immediately, so intense, so potent he felt the thickening in his blood and lower body. She was small, almost delicately built, high-planned cheeks, her skin a dusky gold.

He wasn't smiling but there was the briefest flash of amusement through his intense eyes.

"Tris," her voice soft, breathless. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, her cheeks flushing as his gaze tracked the movement. "My name is Tris."

"First jumper - Tris." She laughed at the resounding echo of cat calls and cheers as Eric's hand clenched on her waist at the sound. "Welcome to Dauntless."