Chapter 12
Vanya
“The winner of this fight is Wilde!”
Kyle’s voice echoed over the blood-soaked training ground just as I collapsed, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Every inch of my body screamed in protest, bruised, battered, and soaked in blood—mine and his.
I forced my swollen eyes open. Through the blur, I saw Wilde standing just a few feet away, panting hard, blood smeared across his chin. One of his eyes was already swelling shut, a cut split across his lip. I may have lost, but I didn’t go down without making sure he’d see my defiance every time he looked in a mirror.
He spat blood beside me, rage still thick in his breath. I barely registered the shift in the air before I saw his boot lift—aimed straight for my head.
I flinched, expecting the worst.
“Enough,” Kyle barked
