Page 108 of My Wild Pet

What if they are both real?

What if they are both illusions?

The announcer’s voice booms overhead: “You have a choice, Ember. Save your partner or claim the artifact. Choose wisely!”

The crowd roars, thirsting for drama.

My collar vibrates as stress hormones register my escalating terror. Memories of Fifi’s death slam into me, how I let her slip away during a previous Bond Breaker. I can’t do this again.

“Gabriel, I’m real! Don’t you see how she wants to keep you from the artifact? We can’t survive if you lose this challenge!” Briar screams, her voice desperate.

Fifi calls out to me from the other side, “Mon Dieu, Gabriel,how could you forget me so easily? If you don’t save me, they’ll kill me.”

I’m torn in two. My heart says Briar is the one I’ve fought for, the one I love now—ma partenaire. But the pang of regret over Fifi still haunts me.What if it’s really her? Could Aefre and Kaelin have lied?Another wave of illusions surges, making the floor ripple beneath me. I stumble trying to keep my balance.

I look at the dais with the artifact. If I dash for it, I risk letting one or both of these illusions die. If I try to save one of these women and they are an illusion, I die. Then if I die, Briar, wherever she is, also dies.

Briar’s desperate cry pierces my thoughts, “Don’t do this again, Gabriel!” Her voice hoarse from coughing. “I’m your partner.Please.The other Fifi, she’s not even affected by the mist! And how the fuck would she know I’m American. I could be Canadian! She’s the illusion from your mind. The real Fifi died here last year.”

The words strike like lightning. She’s right. Fifi is unaffected by the poison mist and Imperials wouldn’t know about human countries.

I close my eyes and think,Fifi is gone. I turn toward the trembling figure that must be Briar.But is she real or an illusion as well?

A final timer blinks overhead. If I don’t claim the artifact soon, I’ll fail the challenge. I glance between the artifact and Briar.

In a burst of adrenaline, I sprint for Briar.

Fifi screams my name, her voice altered by betrayal. It sounds the same as it did last year when I left her to die. My heart is breaking that I’m leaving her to die again, but I keep reminding myself she’s an illusion.

I reach Briar and throw my arms around her, ignoring the stinging mist. If she’s an illusion too and I’m going to die, I want to do it with the knowledge that, no matter what, hologram or not, I love Briar.

She gasps in relief, hands clutching my arms. “Gabriel, oh thank you, you chose me—I was so worried. Untie me.”

I swallow hard, tears from this nightmare running down my face.

The announcer’s voice booms overhead: “A risky gamble from Ember! Time is running out—can he still reach the artifact?”

Maybe there’s time. Clutching Briar, I force myself into motion. We run toward the platform, each step agony, the illusion of Fifi’s wails echoing in my ears. But I can’t look back. I push forward, half-dragging Briar to keep up with my pace, half-praying the ring of energy doesn’t collapse.

In a final burst of desperate speed, I lunge. The artifact glows within reach—I stretch out my hand, feeling sparks bite at my fingers.Focus. With a final push, I seize the artifact, lifting itoff the dais just as the swirling energy crackles and the ring of energy shuts behind us.

Thunderous cheers from the audience rattle the arena walls.

My knees buckle and Briar slumps against me.

The illusions dissipate—the phantom Fifi dissolves into mist, revealing that empty corner of the arena. My chest twists with sorrow for Fifi. But it’s over. I have the artifact and Briar is safe. This time I made the right choice, thanks to Briar.

We did it.We survived the Bond Breaker.My heart throbs as Briar exhales in trembling gratitude. She looks up at me, tears in her eyes, and I know that we passed the ultimate test. No illusions could sever our bond.

I press my forehead to hers. “Je t’aime,Briar,” I murmur.

She manages a weak smile. “We’re safe,” she whispers.

But then, suddenly, everything goes dark. The audience screams in panic. The drones overhead short out, dropping in a shower of sparks. Confusion and fear wash over the arena like a wave.

I hear distant shouting, the pounding of boots. Alarms shriek.

A figure steps onto our platform with one single, small, flashlight, half-wreathed in smoke. Gael the Returner. My heart jolts. I thought he’d been caught by security.

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