Page 30 of Marked

After we’d settled on the structure of the competition, we hadn’t spoken—no friendly banter, or polite conversation. Certainly no catching up after all these years.

Instead, we moved around the clearing with quiet efficiency and cold determination.

I dealt with insufferable men questioning my ability to stand amongst them my whole life. In fact, Ace was probably my first teacher on how to deal with that particular attitude.

I wouldn’t step to the side or let some rookie come in and cast doubt on my worthiness ever again.

Was this pride? Yes.

Arrogance? Probably.

Ego? Also, probably yes.

And maybe it wasn’t healthy to centre my entire identity and worth on my ability to kill shit with a single arrow, but it was all I had going for me. It was what got me and my brother off the street and what continued to place food on the table.

Ace sat down and pulled his bow from his shoulders to inspect the string, his eyebrows angled down severely, his gaze narrowed.

“Ready?” I asked. I’d already checked my bow and my arrows’ fletching before I left home this morning.

Ace stood in one fluid motion and waved at the closest target. “Ladies first.”

I scoffed and pointed at him. “Fine, but you could’ve just said you wanted to lead.”

Sley giggled.

He snapped his head back as if I slapped him. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

“Look.” I cocked my hip. “We both know I’m not a lady and you’re certainly not a gentleman so let’s cut the crap and fake cute shit. You’re the challenger, so you go first.”

He pressed his lips together and stomped over to the line I’d drawn in the dirt with a stick. Without a word, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, notched it, and released. The arrow sunk into the target.

My gaze snagged on the board, and I sucked in a breath. Well, shit.

Bull’s-eye.

Sley whistled.

I glanced over at my friend, and she slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. She didn’t need to apologize or hide her reaction, though. I appreciated her loyalty. Sley always had my back.

It was a fantastic shot, maybe even more impressive by his lack of prep. He hadn’t taken any time to sight the target after he notched the arrow.

My skin prickled as all the little hairs on my arms stood up. This wasn’t the Ace I remembered. The teen boy had grown up and somehow levelled up while away.

“Looks like I won’t need those additional shots,” he said, a smug smile spreading across his face.

Of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t beat a bull’s-eye.

But I could.

I shoved him out of the way and stepped to the line drawn in the ground. Letting the magic flow around me, I kept my gaze locked on Ace’s smug face as I drew and fired a single arrow without looking at the target. My magic hummed in the air. Wood splintered and I smiled at Ace.

Truly smiled.

I didn’t need to look at the target to know what had happened. I might not understand my magic, but it had never failed me.

Ace narrowed his eyes and his smile faltered. Slowly, he turned away from me to look at the target. His mouth dropped open. My arrow had split his down the shaft to strike the bull’s-eye.

Sley squealed and clapped her hands again.

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