Page 22 of Run of Ruin

I gestured toward the rest of the ballroom. “Sure. There they are.”

She chuckled, low and enticing. “You don’t consider yourself competition?”

I flexed my nonexistent muscles for effect, earning alaugh from her. But then she stepped closer, invading my space in a way that made my breath catch.

“You and I both know,” she said, her voice low and almost purring, as she trailed a single finger along my upper arm, sending a jolt of electricity through me, “that these muscles,” she traced a finger down my arm, “aren’t the only strength you need in these trials.”

I froze, unsure how to respond. There was something about her, something dangerous in the way she looked at me, like she knew everything about me just by staring into my soul. Something that sent a wave of warmth rushing through my chest, and to my core.

“I guess we’ll see when the trials start, won’t we?” I responded, trying to mask my reaction with a feigned smile.

She leaned in, her smirk widening just slightly. “We will,” she said, her voice dark and inviting.

“So,” I said, tilting my head toward her, trying to sound casual, maybe a little aloof, but the flirt crept in anyway. “Have you learned anything useful about your competition yet?”

It came out more sultry than I intended. I told myself it was a strategy. A tool. Just another way to get her talking. It had nothing to do with how sinfully unfair her eyes were.

“Tons,” Briar said smoothly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Why, you curious?” She leaned in, warm and teasing, eyes glinting like she already knew the answer.

“If you’re willing to share,” I said, my voice barely above a breath. Her gaze dropped to my lips, and for a split second, everything else in the room dulled.

Something sparked behind her eyes. Not just heat, something darker. Lustful. And I felt it coil low in my stomach. I pressed my thighs together, hoping to regain even a sliver of composure.

“Hollis,” she murmured like a velvet secret, lips brushing close to my ear, “I think you’ll find that I love to share.”

A humiliating shiver rippled down my spine.

“Saltspire’s elected, Devrin, is aiming for the electricity trial, but he plans to place in as many as possible,” she said, straightening up slightly and nodding toward a massive guy posted near the far wall.

I followed her gaze. “Saltspire? But don’t they run mostly on hydropower?” I asked, recalling images from books and old transmission reels, coastal cliffs, crashing waves, and massive turbines.

“They do,” Briar replied. “But their main plant’s half-dead. Infrastructure’s failing, so they need a backup source.”

“They need electricity,” I finished for her, nodding slowly.

Her smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “The Wildfold elected and Oasis elected both want Air Filtration. Apparently, the last few years have been rough, standing water, and pollutants. People are getting sick.”

“Sick?” This was the first I was hearing of this.

She nodded. “Wildfold’s also got their eyes on medical supplies, they need more masks.”

My brows furrowed. “They’re wearing masks?” I asked, a chill crawling up my spine.

“Outdoors, almost constantly,” she said, her voice lower now. “Something’s tainted the air. Could be mold, chemical runoff, or worse. They’re not sure.”

She paused, and her gaze locked on mine again, no smirk this time, no flirtation.

“Which is why Wildfold’s lottery pick, Lark, is also aiming for the medical personnel trial.” And there it was. The one resource I needed more than anything else. She didn’t say it aloud, but we both knew what hung in the air between us. She knew what I wanted.

Of course she did. Even if I hadn’t said it with my whole chest in my interview, she would’ve figured it out. She was sharp like that. She seemed like the type to find anything out. My mind reminded me to be careful when divulging anything to her. No matter how charming she may seem.

“That’s unfortunate for me,” I replied, looking over at the Wildfold chosen Challenger. He was thin, but muscular, a sort of frame that screamed ‘athlete’. He had an almost laser-focused look on his face and I tried not to let the fear seep in, but it was here anyway.

“It’s a mental trial,” Briar continued. “From what I gather, he doesn’t have any formal schooling.” There was a silver lining at least. I smiled up at Briar, genuinely, even if it was a little stiff.

“Thank you.”

“So, Hollis,” Briar said, my name rolling off her tongue with that same easy confidence. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about your brother. His illness. That you had to leave him.”

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