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But he was nowhere.
And that void left me feeling detached from the present.
The buzz of conversations around me, the touch of the cool air against my skin, the occasional whiff of some Champion’s musky cologne — none of it mattered.
My world had narrowed down to one singular point of focus:
Ashale.
The Champion in front of me cleared his throat, breaking my reverie.
I found myself staring into cold, analytical eyes.
He probably assumed I’d be an easy Claim, given my obvious despondence.
He raised an arm, his fingers poised to make the final gesture that would seal my fate.
My pulse quickened, but not out of excitement or fear.
A growing resignation settled within me.
Without Ashale, did it even matter who Claimed me?
As the Champion’s fingers began to move, a loud voice boomed through the room, stopping him in his tracks. “She’s reserved. She belongs to me.”
The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the entrance.
And there he was — Ashale.
Alive.
Unharmed.
His presence was like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds.
My heart soared, and tears of relief threatened to spill from my eyes.
The moment Ashale’s words echoed through the room, a wave of elation crashed over me, and all reservations I’d been holding onto dissipated.
With a lightness I hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages, I jumped down from the platform, and with the eagerness of a child seeing a long-lost parent, I rushed into his arms.
Ashale, despite his ever-present facade of calm strength, seemed momentarily taken aback by my sudden display.
But it was only for a second.
Almost instantly, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer, his embrace enveloping me in a safety I had begun to fear I’d never feel again.
However, our reunion was interrupted by a cold, sharp voice.
The Champion, his features twisted in annoyance, stepped forward. “I was about to claim her,” he growled, his eyes locked on Ashale with undisguised hostility.
The tension in the room was palpable; the silence was punctuated only by the low hum of the overhead lights.
Before either Ashale or I could respond, a movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention.
Several of the Prizes, the same females I’d shared so many moments of doubt and camaraderie with, were stepping forward.
One, with a cascade of silver hair and shimmering tattoos, spoke up.
