Page 57 of Run of Ruin

“How convenient,”I chimed in, my own eyes finding her like she was the light and I was a damn moth. I smiled at that thought.“I feel the same way.”

Then Ezra met my eyes. It was a silent conversation, but if I read it correctly. He was telling me that the way I felt about Bex was okay. That he wasn’t upset that she had more people in her corner. For a moment, it felt like he was giving me his blessing to show her I cared.

“So we’re all in agreement then,”Briar added. The edit flashed around the campfire, showing each of our faces. Determined and connected. A team.

Then the coverage moved on, away from us, away from her, to the Challengers who took the top seven spots.

“What the hell was that?” I muttered, still staring at the screen.

“I have no idea,” Briar said, her voice low, wary.

“We looked like a team,” I said slowly, the words tasting strange in my mouth. “The four of us. That edit made it look like we were a damn team.”

“A team whose sole mission was to keep Brexlyn Hollis alive,” Briar added, her eyes still on the now-muted footage. “We might need to send a thank you card to that Canyon Collective cameraman.”

I gave a short nod, the wheels already turning in my head.

“Maybe we can be though,” I started, trailing off.

“Be what?” Briar asked, her brow lifting.

“A team,” I said, meeting her gaze. “Maybe we actually work with Ezra. Keep her safe. Keep each other safe. Alliances aren’t the worst thing to have out here. And you said it yourself, you trust her.”

Briar studied me for a long moment, narrowing her eyes. “You sure this isn’t just about spending more time with her?”

I smirked. “Why can’t it be both?”

She shook her head, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at her mouth. “Get some sleep, Thorne.”

Briar stood from the bed, the mattress shifting under her weight as she moved to the door. Before stepping out, she glanced back.

“The trials are only just getting started.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Zaffir

My hands trembledat my sides as I crossed the threshold into the Show Center. I didn’t come here often, I didn't need to. Most of my work was done from the safety of my own quarters or sent off through encrypted channels. But today was different. Today, I’d been summoned. No explanation. No preamble. Just an insistent message that left my stomach twisting itself into knots.

The place was alive with motion. Technicians hurried between workstations, Architects barked orders over comms, and massive digital boards flickered with maps, schematics, and footage from the last trial. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, loud enough that it felt like the sound might give me away. I wasn’t supposed to be nervous, I worked for them, for Praxis, for the system. But lately, with every step I took, I felt less like an insider and more like an intruder.

As I weaved through the organized chaos, my eyes darted to the boards. Trial layouts. Projected survival rates. Trapplacements. My fingers itched to grab a data slip, to memorize a camera angle, anything I could feed back to Brexlyn to give her even a sliver of an advantage. But I forced myself to look away. That was a good way to get yourself dragged into a room you didn’t walk back out of.

At the front desk, a petite woman with sharp eyes and a clipped tone barely looked up. “Can I help you?”

“Zaffir Stark,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I was called for a meeting.”

She tapped a few keys, her expression unreadable. “You’re expected. Conference room’s through there. She’ll be with you shortly.”

I managed a stiff nod and made my way toward the door, my mind already racing through every possible reason they might have dragged me in for a face-to-face. Maybe they found out I took over the Darkbranch Collective’s feed during the trial. Maybe someone noticed how I cut the footage to protect the Grey siblings’ interactions with Ezra, how I buried the moments that could’ve sparked a feud and boosted the drama. The higher-ups loved their rivalries, betrayals, bloodied faces and desperate alliances. But that would’ve put Brexlyn right in the center of a storm she wasn’t ready for. I wasn’t going to let that happen. No, it was better for her to be seen as part of a strong alliance. A team. Her and her Wildguard, as I dubbed them.

And now, maybe they knew.

I slipped into the conference room and froze for a moment, taking in the space. It was… luxurious. The kind of room no one from the outer Collectives would ever see, let alone step foot in. Thick velvet curtains muffled the sounds from the center outside. A stained glass lamp cast a warm, honeyed glow across a polished wood table that looked like it could stop a bullet. The air conditioning hummed softly, making the hair on my arms rise.

This was the kind of privilege my status bought me. And for the first time in years, I actually noticed it.

---