Delancey Vale’s POV
The Morning After the Arena
The mirror refused to lie.
A split lip. A purple bruise forming beneath my right eye. Scratches down my neck like claw marks.
Violet Midnight did that.
In front of the entire school.
In front of Luthor.
In front of Pierce.
I leaned closer to the mirror and pressed a damp cloth to my lip, ignoring the sting.
That girl isn’t a threat, I told myself. She’s a spark. Sparks go out.
But I knew better.
She hadn’t just beaten me. She’d dismantled me.
With skill. With fire. With something I hadn’t expected.
Mercy.
She could’ve snapped my arm, shattered my jaw, made an example out of me like I deserved. But she didn’t. She let me crawl off that mat with my dignity in pieces, not blood.
It was worse.
Because it meant she had power. The k
