The Tournament Announced
The announcement reverberated through the academy like a thunderclap: the elite tournament was returning. The halls buzzed with excitement, students whispering about the chance to prove themselves in a competition that was as brutal as it was prestigious.
Eryon stood at the edge of the crowd gathered in the main hall, his jaw tight as he listened to the details. Headmistress Valeria’s voice cut through the din, sharp and commanding.
“This is not for the faint-hearted,” she declared, her crimson eyes sweeping the eager faces before her. “The tournament demands strength, skill, and cunning. Only the best will rise.”
Eryon’s fists clenched at his sides. The final stage of the tournament was set to take place near the academy’s oldest grounds, dangerously close to the hidden chamber he had discovered. His wolf stirred uneasily at the thought of the relics within, the cryptic warnings that had haunted his dreams.
“This could be our chance,” Eryon murmured to Lyra, who stood beside him, her arms crossed tightly.
Lyra shot him a skeptical glance. “It’s dangerous, Eryon. One wrong move, and they’ll tear you apart.”
“It’s worth the risk,” he said firmly. “We need answers, Lyra.”
Despite her unease, Lyra nodded. They couldn’t ignore the opportunity, no matter how perilous.
When the crowd dispersed, Eryon moved to the sign-up table, his resolve steady. As he scrawled his name on the list, a voice behind him made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“Joining the fun, are we?”
He turned to see Misery leaning casually against the desk, her predatory smile firmly in place. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and challenge.
“What’s it to you?” Eryon asked, his tone clipped.
Misery chuckled softly, the sound like silk brushing over steel. “Everything.” She pushed off the desk and signed her name with a flourish, her movements deliberate and confident.
She stepped closer to him, her voice dropping low. “I’ve signed up too,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile.
Eryon tensed, his wolf instinctively bristling.
Misery tilted her head, studying him with a curiosity that felt invasive. “I’ll be watching, darling,” she said, leaning in until her breath ghosted against his ear. “I look forward to breaking you… or perhaps letting you break me.”
Eryon’s chest tightened as she walked away, her laughter echoing in the hall.
