7: Trials and Tribulations

The field was eerily silent, save for the low murmur of the crowd. The instructors had just called out the names of the thirty participants who had made it through the second trial. Each name rang out, each syllable like a weight sinking into the depths of Blaire's mind.

"Blaire Delpine!"

The sound of her own name sent a jolt through her. For a moment, she stood frozen, blinking in disbelief. She had passed. The announcement echoed in her ears, but it didn't fully settle until she took a step forward, her legs feeling like lead beneath her. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But there she was, standing among the top thirty.

A few hushed whispers rippled through the crowd, some in surprise, others in thinly veiled scorn. Blaire ignored them, too focused on the surging adrenaline in her veins. She had done it. She had survived another cut.

As she made her way forward, something—someone—caught her eye. Lydia.

Their gazes met, and Blaire's heart jolted at the warmth she found there. Lydia was smiling, her brown eyes shining with genuine excitement. She had an energy about her that made everything feel a little less suffocating.

"You made it!" Lydia beamed, stepping closer. "I knew you could do it, Blaire."

Blaire hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. For the first time in what felt like forever, someone was happy for her. No ulterior motives, no smug condescension. Just... happiness.

A small, unsteady smile pulled at Blaire's lips. "Thanks." The word barely made it past her throat, but Lydia's grin only widened, as if she understood anyway.

Before Blaire could say more, a shift in the atmosphere stole her attention.

A ripple passed through the crowd—hushed voices, barely concealed anticipation. Then, like a wave parting around jagged rocks, the gathered participants instinctively stepped aside.

They were coming.

Larkin and Orion.

Their presence was undeniable, a force that made the very air feel charged with an unspoken tension. Larkin moved with effortless dominance, his crimson eyes flicking over the remaining competitors with detached amusement. Orion, at his side, was the perfect contrast—cool, composed, but no less intimidating.

Blaire's breath hitched as they approached. There was something about them, something that made people hesitate, made them wary. Not just their appearances, but the sheer weight of their presence.

Larkin didn't walk. He prowled.

He exuded a quiet danger, not the loud kind that demanded attention, but the kind that made people instinctively step out of his way. His gaze barely lingered on anyone as he passed, as if none of them were worth his time.

"Not too bad." Larkin's voice was calm, almost indifferent, but it carried.

Orion chuckled, tilting his head. "Already have your eyes set on someone?"

A smirk tugged at Larkin's lips, but it was all edges, no warmth. "I don't just 'set my eyes' on something." His voice was lazy, almost bored, but there was something sharp beneath the surface. "When I want something, I take it."

A shiver traced down Blaire's spine. The certainty in his tone left no room for doubt. Larkin wasn't the type to chase. He simply decided—and the world bent to accommodate him.

"You know," Orion mused, "I'm getting tired of watching these games. The ones who pretend to be strong, only to crumble under pressure… it's always the same."

Larkin's gaze flicked to the gathered competitors, unimpressed. "Weakness masquerading as strength." His voice held no emotion, just cold observation. "It's the same cycle every year."

Orion let out another low chuckle. "So what now? We let them play their little game? Wait for someone to finally catch your attention?"

Larkin didn't answer right away. His crimson eyes swept over the remaining participants, unreadable. Then, after a beat, he murmured, "The last trial will sort them out."

There was finality in his words, an unshakable certainty that made Blaire's stomach tighten.

"It's not about survival anymore," he continued, his voice quiet but firm. "It's about finding those who can endure the storm."

A slow grin spread across Orion's face. "I like it. I'm sure we'll have some fun with this one."

Larkin's lips curled slightly, but it wasn't amusement. It was something darker. "Fun?" His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it sent a chill through Blaire. "The only fun comes when you finally find someone worth the hunt. The rest... they're just fodder."

Blaire clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay still. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath.

This wasn't just a test to them. It was a game. A hunt.

And they were looking for something more than strength.

They were looking for a challenge.

The realization sent her heart into overdrive. She wasn't sure what terrified her more—the trials themselves, or what would happen if she ever ended up in their sights.

Suddenly, the instructors stepped forward, their voices carrying over the murmuring crowd.

"The final trial will begin at dawn. It will not be a test of strength alone. This is a challenge of endurance, skill... and survival."

A hush fell over the participants.

Blaire swallowed hard. She had no idea what was coming. None of them did.

Orion hummed in amusement. "I have to admit, I'm excited. This last trial… it's always the best part."

Larkin tilted his head slightly, considering. Then, in a voice softer than before—but no less chilling—he murmured,

"This is where we separate the wolves from the lambs."

His gaze flickered once more over the gathered survivors, and Blaire had the terrifying realization that he wasn't looking for competition.

He was looking for prey.

And she didn't know if she was ready.

But she had to be.

She had no choice.

She had to survive.