Page 21 of Run of Ruin

“Alright,” I said finally, voice low. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do,” he replied, stepping back with that same infuriating, unreadable smirk. “Because you’re not as much of a wild card as you think.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my focus. But before I could respond, Nova’s voice rang out from inside. “Bex, it’s your turn.”

I nodded, ready to go, but as I stepped forward, my foot caught on the threshold. Before I could catch myself, Itumbled forward, expecting to face-plant right onto the marble floor. But Zaffir’s arms shot out, quick and steady, catching me effortlessly before I could hit the ground.

He looked down at me, his hands still gently gripping my arms, and a teasing glint flashed in his eyes. “Careful.”

I blinked up at him, my heart racing in my chest from the sudden proximity. I gave him a small, reluctant smile before pushing off his chest and standing up. My skin still tingled where his hands had been, and I quickly smoothed my skirt to distract myself.

With a deep breath, I turned to head inside, but just before the door clicked shut, I heard Zaffir’s voice again, softer this time, with a touch of sincerity I didn’t expect.

“Good luck, Brexlyn.”

The door closed behind me, but his words lingered in my ears, like a quiet promise.

Nova led me toward the entrance of a grand hall, and I suddenly felt exposed all over again. My body still tingled from the encounter with Zaffir. I couldn’t quite figure out why I was reacting like this to him. He was Praxis, after all, he wasn’t on my side. But there was something about him, something magnetic, that drew me in. Then, of course, there was Ezra. His mysterious aura, the way he made me feel when he showed me that softer side of him. I couldn’t deny the pull, but I also couldn’t ignore the fact that both of them were, in their own way, obstacles in my path.

I needed to focus. I was about to walk into a room full of competitors, people who were all vying for the same goal, for the same chance. And if I wanted to save my brother, and return to him alive, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by schoolgirl crushes. This was serious.

The door opened, and my name was announced. A wave of noise swept over me as the crowd's attention focused in mydirection. The ballroom was breathtaking, the guests from Praxis in shades of gold, gowns and suits that shimmered like something out of a dream. In stark contrast, the other Challengers stood out like sore thumbs, their dark blacks and grays clashing against the opulent surroundings.

I stepped forward into the crowd, trying to smile graciously as I made my way deeper into the room, but my mind kept returning to Ezra. When I finally spotted him across the room, I hesitated. I couldn’t go to him. Not now. I needed to stay focused.

I navigated the sea of guests, answering polite questions, smiling, and doing my best to keep Zaffir’s warning on repeat in my head. Everyone’s mask was on. Painted grins. Words polished to a shine.

Eventually, I found myself drifting to the edge of the room, away from the spotlight. I let the crowd blur, my gaze sharpening as I watched them move. My eyes tracked gestures, shifts in posture, lingering glances. I didn’t care about what they said when they knew I could hear them, I cared about what they gave away when they thought I couldn’t. Praxis guests would clamor around a Challenger, fawning over them, then slink away to boast, tease and chat about the exchange. Like gossiping little children.

“Always a pleasure to meet a fellow people watcher,” a voice called from behind me.

I turned, expecting another Praxis lackey desperate to interact with the entertainment. But the woman standing there wasn’t Praxis. She was a Challenger.

She wore a tailored black suit that hugged her curves like it had been made with her in mind. Her skin was sun-warmed, smooth, and golden. Her hair was pulled back in a low, tight bun. Her dark brown eyes burned into my skin. They trailed over me, curious, slow.

I blinked. My throat dried up. I swallowed hard.

“I must be doing a pretty poor job of it if you noticed me,” I said, a half-smirk tugging at my lips. “I’m supposed to be the one watching, not being watched.”

She smiled, just enough to let it be dangerous. “Not your fault,” she said. “You’re just... noticeable.”

My pulse spiked. I held her gaze, refusing to be the first to drop it.

“I prefer the edges too,” she said, then finally broke eye contact to glance out over the crowd again. “I find you learn the most about people when they let their guard down.”

I stared at her profile, watching and her keen eyes surveyed the room.

“Remind me to keep my guard up then,” I responded.

She smirked, eyes flicking back to me, clearly entertained by my response, and held out her hand. “Briar Grey, Darkbranch Collective.”

I raised an eyebrow but took her hand, shaking it firmly. “Brexlyn Hollis, Canyon.”

“Oh, I know,” she said smoothly. “I watched your segment last night. But I have to admit, the screen didn’t do you justice.”

I felt a flush creeping up my neck and quickly cleared my throat. “What do I owe the pleasure of your flattery?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light.

She tilted her head slightly, her smirk turning more mischievous. “Can’t a gal get to know her competition?”

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