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Only now did I realize the torrent of affection in their gazes. The commotion continued. Suddenly, a staff member shouted, “A driver went off the track and fell into the sea! They’ve not been rescued yet.” Some dissatisfied fans near me sneered, “Could it be Lewis? He hasn’t shown up yet.” Hearing this, Alanna froze mid-pose. … Rally racing was, after all, a dangerous sport, where crashes and fatalities were never unexpected.

She slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. “What the hell’s going on?” Charity asked. “There’s a huge fight out there. Some guys dragged Midge inside, he was bleeding,” Klara said, her voice quivering. “Mama, Jake’s out there,” Jamie said, and tried to get out of her arms. “Jake can take care of himself,” she said, and kept her arms around him tightly. The music was turned off and they could now clearly hear the sounds of fighting coming through the thin wall. There were screams, swearing, and then gunshots. The women in the dressing room screamed, and Klara cowered in the corner, her body shielding Jamie.

As darkness edged her vision, she saw Darius emerge from the trees, smiling coldly, Time to collect my virgin prize. Marcus lunged, but a heavy blow knocked him down, The last thing Pera hear d was his furious scream of her name before everything went black.

"Typical. You're always like this, aren't you? Always trying to take away everything I like." His voice dropped into a warning. "I'm telling you one last time. Let go of Fiora... or I'll beat you senseless." A soft laugh escaped Riven's lips. "You really think you'd win?" he asked, his smile never fading, though a dangerous gleam flashed across his blue eyes. "I'm much stronger than you, Darius." A crooked grin spread across Darius' face. "We'll see who's still standing in the end." Elyon, who had already returned to his book, quietly closed it once more, apparently deciding that watching Darius and Riven argue was far more interesting.

They're the geniuses I fought tooth and nail to recruit with an exam exemption! The principal grabbed a file from his desk and flung it into their faces. "Open your eyes and look! These are their transcripts from their old school, you blind fools!" Several sheets of paper drifted to the floor. Everyone looked down at rows of nearly perfect scores. Ms. Dawson and Mr. Ward's faces turned pale. With trembling hands, they picked up the transcripts, their lips quivering without being able to say another word. The two teachers who had been so arrogant moments earlier now looked ready to collapse as they were drenched in cold sweat.

“Again.” Elara felt Darius shift beside her. “I’m gonna spar with Elias before he gets any ideas about skipping.” Elara caught his sleeve. “Don’t go easy on him.” Darius’s mouth quirked. “When have I ever?” He walked down into the yard, and Elias immediately straightened, trying to look casual and failing. “Ready, pup?” Darius asked. “I’m not a pup,” Elias said. “You are to me,” Darius said, and lunged. King to Prince. Father to son by oath.

I barely had time to register the distortion before Darius struck. Steel met steel in a spray of sparks, the impact reverberating up my arms. He had been waiting for the distraction of course he had. Darius never fought fair, he fought when it hurt most. “You feel it too,” he said, circling me, eyes bright with something close to reverence. “The prison is crying out, she cannot hold it forever.” “Do not speak her name,” I growled. He laughed and lunged. The world narrowed to motion and instinct. We crashed through shattered stone and scorched earth, blades flashing, power slamming into power, every strike he landed fed on the fracture in my focus, every strike I returned carried fury sharpen

he taunted. Ryan didn’t answer. His wolf growled slowly, muscles flexing. Graves stepped between them, raising a hand. "The battle for Alpha will be fought until submission or death," he declared. I flinched. "Begin." Darius attacked first. The moment he lunged, Ryan moved fast, precise, dodging to the side and aiming for Darius’s ribs. But Darius was faster. His elbow snapped out, slamming into Ryan’s gut. Ryan grunted, staggering back.

“Are we going to fight or continue to say our last goodbyes?” “Are you in that big of a hurry to die?” I smirked as I turned to face him, donning my fighting stance. Darius lunged for me, but I easily dodged his advance, swinging my sword, aiming for his head, but he swiftly moved out of the way and swept my feet. But I jumped back, quickly turned, and went for his head. Then he ducked and lunged toward me, and I swung my sword at him, but he caught it with his blade and twisted out of it.

Bone cracked; the man staggered, dazed, and Kael’s sword finished the job with one brutal thrust to the heart. Darius was raw power, his fists more lethal than any blade. He grabbed one attacker by the throat, lifting him off the ground as though he weighed nothing. With a snarl, Darius slammed him into a tree so hard the bark splintered. The man’s body hung slack, throat crushed, before Darius let him drop. Another rushed him, but Darius spun and drove a backhanded punch into his face—the impact so violent it shattered cheekbones, sending the man’s body skidding across the dirt. They fought in perfect rhythm, years of training under Draven making them more machine than man. Where Darius str