“Myla, you’ve been called to serve.”
Yawning, I open my eyes. Two weeks have passed since I last fought in the Arena. Since that day, Cissy and Zeke have become the poster children for public displays of affection, Mom’s stepped up her morning interrogations, and I haven’t gotten a single new dreamscape from Verus. Life has certainly taken a nosedive.
Man, do I ever need to kill something.
Walker stands at the foot of my bed. I roll over, stretch, and peep at my Darth Vader alarm clock. 5 AM on the nose.
“Hey, Walker.” I sit up straight. “How pumped am I that you’re here?”
Walker’s mouth winds into a grin. “Very pumped, obviously.”
“I’ve been itching for a match for weeks.” I throw back the covers and hop to my feet. “Wait. You don’t think this’ll be another match like the last one,
