Page 69 of Run of Ruin

But Zaffir caught her hands in his and held them tight. “Yes,” he said softly. “You could.” He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along her bottom lip “You already have.” His meaning was clear. It was obvious in the way he’d produced his edits. The way he sanitized our worst sides for the public's eyes, but kept the honest and raw truth of who we were there for all to see. The way he had shared with us secrets we never should have known… He was Praxis, sure, but Bex had him seeing things differently.

And for a heartbeat, the room felt still.

“I don’t want to cause problems,” Bex whispered, her voice barely carrying. “I just want to win what I need for my brother… then go home.”

“And I’m going to do everything I can to help you do that,” Zaffir promised, no hesitation in his voice.

The thought of her in danger made my blood run hot, made my fists clench. But the idea of someone like her, someone genuine, kind, and good, rallying the people against Praxis and their sadistic Reclamation Run, against the way they hoarded resources and dangled them over our heads like scraps to starving dogs… that was a dangerous, intoxicating idea.

“Ezra?” Bex’s voice pulled me out of it.

“Yeah?”

“You said something under your breath.”

“Nothing important,” I shrugged. “Just… wondered what life might look like if we weren’t under Praxis’ boot anymore.”

The words hung heavy in the air. The treasonous thought seeping into our minds. None of us spoke for a long moment, but I knew we were all thinking the same thing.

“So, what should I do tomorrow? At this live show?” Bex asked quietly. “Go out there and make people hate me?”

Zaffir shook his head, a tired sigh escaping him. “No. But it wouldn’t hurt to…”

“To what?” she pressed.

He hesitated, then said it. “To thank Praxis.”

“Thank them?” she echoed in disbelief just as I muttered, “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Zaffir said quickly, holding up a hand. “I know how it sounds. But if Archon Veritas even suspects you’re becoming a threat… if she senses for a second that you might turn the people against her, the favor you’ve built won’t save you or your brother. Not anymore.”

He looked between us, eyes sharp, serious.

A line drawn in the sand.

If it were just me, I’d like to think I’d use that spotlight to speak out, to light a match and burn this whole nightmare down. But it wasn’t just me. I didn’t have anyone waiting for me on the other side of this, but they did. Bex did.

And it was a nice dream, imagining we could do something about the selfish rule of Praxis. But that was a risky game I don’t think any of us were prepared to play.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Bex

The next morningarrived faster than any of us wanted.

We’d slept through most of the day after the livestock challenge, our bodies wrecked from staying up all night fending off those damn wolves. Credit where it’s due, the Architects of this year’s trials weren’t pulling their punches. Every test felt crueler than the last.

I loved my little team. My Wildguard. And if I’m honest, there was something intoxicating about knowing other people out there loved what we were building too. But Zaffir’s warning clung to the edges of my mind like a shadow in my sleep. If I wanted to protect the people I loved, if I wanted to keep Jax safe, the smart move was to keep my head down, stay quiet, and survive long enough to get home.

But that’s what we’ve all been doing since Praxis took control, falling in line, biting our tongues, keeping low to avoid the crushing weight of their rule. And where had that gotten us? Fighting to the death for scraps, living without thebasic things every human deserves, while Praxis perched in their ivory towers, drowning in luxury and excess.

I didn’t realize how wide the gap truly was until I got here, walking these streets, treated like one of them, even if it was all for show. Things my people had bled for, died for, and been denied generation after generation, were handed to Praxis citizens like candy tossed to children at a parade.

It was almost enough to ignite something dangerous in me. A voice that nearly begged me to take this moment and use it. A flicker of rebellion in my chest.

Almost.

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