CHAPTER 38
The morning after the Champion’s Special Match was silent and heavy. The air in the infirmary was thick with the scent of antiseptics and the deep stillness of recovery.
Lauren woke to a pervasive, dull ache across her entire body. She was swaddled in bandages, her head secured in a neck brace, a sharp reminder of the brutal draw.
The draw. The technicality Ryle had used to rob her of the victory she had nearly died for.
She heard the squeak of the infirmary door and braced herself.
Ryle entered, looking surprisingly composed despite the visible damage. His face was a landscape of dark, healing bruises, and a patch covered a small cut on his temple. He moved with a stiffness that betrayed his injuries, yet his posture retained its usual arrogant grace.
He stopped beside h
