Chapter 3

A week before Regionals, the training grounds ran a full dress-rehearsal mock trial.

Full judging panel, full scoring system, everything identical to the real thing.

The mock covered three events: beast-form sprint, alpha pressure resistance, and survival tracking.

I took first place in human form.

My total beat second place by nearly twelve points.

Senna was the last one to arrive.

She extended one clawed finger, ripped the results sheet off the board, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash.

"Whatever. The Northern spot is mine. I don't need to bother with these trials."

Kael was waiting at the railing with two coffees.

He handed her one.

She smiled at him like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just thrown a tantrum in front of everyone.

"You look beautiful."

She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek.

I walked past them toward the locker room.

"Eira."

I didn't stop.

"Eira. Hey."

He stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

"Still pissed about the slot?"

I didn't answer.

"I get it. But let it go. Look at where she is. She needs this more than you do. You could win Regionals blindfolded."

"Why hang onto it? You should learn how to lose gracefully."

He stepped closer and lowered his voice.

"The offer still stands. Whatever you need—coaches, off-season camps—it's yours."

He thought money fixed everything. He thought money could buy back what he'd already broken.

He was wrong.

"I don't want it."

"There it is again." His jaw tightened. "How long are you going to keep this up? Do you have any idea what you earn in a month? What I'm offering is more than you'll make in a lifetime at that place."

Senna hooked her arm through his.

"Kael, don't. She just hasn't accepted it yet."

She gave me a sad little smile.

"Eira. I know you hate me right now. But I really, truly have nowhere else to go. I don't want the two of you fighting because of me, but I've already lost everything."

Her eyes welled up on cue.

For a whole year I'd watched her run this routine.

In every conversation, she was the victim. In every room, I was the one making her cry.

"Kael said he'd take care of you," she went on, her voice soft and magnanimous. "If there's anything you need, you just let us know, okay?"

Us. As if she'd already walked into his life.

I couldn't help it. The corner of my mouth pulled.

Kael frowned. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just admiring the two of you. You make a great pair. Hope it lasts."

His expression changed.

"Eira—"

I walked past him and into the locker room.

"Eira, get back here."

I tuned every word out.

That night Tessa sent me a screenshot—caught before it disappeared from Senna's feed.

Senna and Kael at a bar.

Kael holding up a bottle of champagne, Senna draped sideways across his lap.

Their friends behind them lifting glasses, shouting:

Congrats, Senna!

Tessa: Don't look at her. She's not worth ruining your night over.

I tossed the phone aside.

Then I pulled my training log off the nightstand, turned to the next blank page, and started mapping out my route for Regionals.

As long as I was training, I didn't have to think about anything else.