The air was thick with tension as I stepped into the center of the training field. My heart beat steadily, not with fear, but with a kind of coiled energy that made my fingers itch and my magic hum beneath my skin. Excitement.
Around me, the crowd murmured, hundreds of eyes pinned to me, waiting, expecting, some even hoping I would falter. I didn't give them the satisfaction of looking nervous. My steps were measured, my chin lifted.
Across from me stood Claire.
Her eyes glittered with the smugness of someone who believed the outcome had already been decided. She had been waiting for this moment—I could see it in the cruel curl of her lips, the sharpness in her posture. She wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone, to grind me into the dirt and remind me of my place.
She would learn today that I had no place beneath her feet.
Adam's presence loomed like a shadow from his seat at the edge of the field. His gaze was heavy, unsettling, but I refused to cower; refused to worry.
