Ivy
I stood in the middle of the sparring circle, chest heaving, knuckles bruised, and blood, hopefully Sophia’s and not mine, on my shirt. My heart pounded so hard it might as well have been trying to tap dance its way out of my ribs. Around me, the world wasn’t cheering or clapping or doing that slow-motion standing ovation thing I used to daydream about as a kid. Nope. Just stunned silence.
Except Gina. She jumped up like she was auditioning for a sports drink commercial, yelling something that sounded like “Go off, Ivy!” Or maybe it was “God, Ivy!” Either way, she looked proud and very shocked. Blaise just stared at me like I’d suddenly grown wings or maybe three heads. Honestly, fair reaction.
Even he hadn’t thought I’d win. The same guy who trained me for this deathmatch had basic
