TWENTY THREE

ELENA’s POV

By the time the last shot is fired, the sun has bid its goodbye and the moon is high up in the sky. I squint my eyes, peering at the targets that are a distance away and try to see how I fared. The abstract silhouettes come to a halt and are riddled with bullet holes, but it is hard to see whose shots were the best.

Helios raises a hand, signalling for us to lower our guns and we do as we are instructed. Hunter gives him a nod and Helios strides to the very far end of the shooting range. I swallow thickly and look over to Hunter but he does not meet my gaze. He has put on a new shirt, a dark blue one this time and with his arms crossed, his face remains a blank slate; I cannot tell what is going through his mind.

I look the other way and see the faces of the other competitors. The way their eyes shift nervously and their hands fidget mirrors exactly how I feel inside. As if sensing how I feel, Connor looks my way giving m