Isla’s POV
The arena emptied slowly, like a living thing settling after battle. The roar faded into echoes trapped in steel and ice, and by the time we left through a secured corridor, the world felt strangely distant. Chase changed quickly, still smelling of cold and sweat and victory. His hair was damp, his eyes bright in a way I had not seen since the island. He did not speak much as we drove back to the mansion. Neither did I. Words felt fragile, as if saying the wrong thing might shatter what had just happened.
Dinner was prepared quietly. No staff hovering. No cameras. Just a small table set near the tall windows overlooking the forest, candles flickering softly. The night outside was deep and still, snow resting on branches like secrets kept. I removed the mask and placed it besid
