XX
Selena's pulse raced, her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage. She clenched her fists, willing it to calm. Holy shit. Holy shit!
She glanced at Reynard, his thick arm wrapped protectively around her as chaos unfolded before them. The room was a battlefield, mundanes clashing with brutal intensity, blows exchanged, weapons wielded with reckless abandon. Yet Reynard stood calm, his sharp eyes scanning the chaos, unbothered by the carnage.
Selena gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus on maintaining their camouflage. Her aura flared subtly, blending them into the steel wall behind them, hiding them from view. She shouldn't have been this distracted—not by him, not now.
Get a grip, Selena, she scolded herself. She was supposed to be Reynard's bodyguard, but here she was, fighting the ridiculous flutter in her chest.
She stole a glance at him, noting his composed demeanor. His calm confidence only made her heart beat faster. Damn it, Leora was right. He really does have "natural rizz." At the time, Selena had thought Leora was exaggerating. Now, with Reynard so close, she understood exactly what her friend meant.
When the chaos finally quieted and the counter hit 150, the room fell into a tense calm. Selena let out a breath, releasing the camouflage. She felt the weight of Reynard's gaze and turned to see him looking down at her, one brow raised.
"You can let go now," he said plainly.
It was only then that Selena realized she was clinging to his waist. Her face burned as she quickly let go. "My bad…" she muttered, looking away.
Reynard chuckled softly. "I'm fine. No need to be that overzealous with the bodyguarding."
Selena swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Just doing my job," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
But deep down, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Leora had truly lucked out. Reynard wasn't just handsome; he was everything Selena admired in a partner—steady, reliable, and sharp.
She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. This isn't the time for daydreaming.
The sharp crack of gunfire snapped her back to reality. A rapid burst of shots echoed through the room, the bullets slicing through the air toward them. Selena's instincts kicked in instantly.
"I got you!" she shouted, lunging forward. She grabbed Reynard and pulled him close, her aura flaring as she created a scattering of afterimages. Ghostly replicas of them sprinted in different directions, confusing their attacker.
She guided them back to the wall, pressing them flat against the steel plates as the shots hit nothing but flickering illusions. Breathing heavily, Selena kept her focus on their camouflage, her grip still tight around Reynard.
"You okay?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding in her ears.
Reynard nodded, his expression calm despite the chaos. "Yeah… Thanks to you."
Selena felt her face heat up again. Stop looking at me like that! she thought, her heart betraying her once more.
From across the room, the gunman sneered as he reloaded. His wild, desperate eyes locked onto Reynard, rage burning in his gaze.
"I saw it was you who pulled that stupid trick!" he spat, his voice shaking with fury. "You're dead! I'll kill you, motherfucker!"
Selena narrowed her eyes, sensing the faint shift in the gunman's aura. He's recently awakened… a Seeker type, she realized. Somehow, the gunman was able to track Reynard despite their disguise. But more troubling was the gun in his hands—how had he smuggled it past the Association's checks?
Before she could act, the announcer's voice boomed through the room, chillingly calm. "Guns are prohibited in this exam," it declared.
The gunman froze, his sneer faltering. He clutched his head, his face twisting in pain.
"It hurts! My head—" he screamed, clawing at his temples as blood trickled from his nose and eyes.
Selena winced but didn't look away. In an instant, the man's head exploded, blood and fragments splattering across the floor. The room fell silent, the brutal display a stark reminder of the Association's authority.
Selena's stomach churned, but she kept her expression neutral. She glanced at Reynard, who remained steady, his face unreadable.
"Let's keep moving," he murmured, his voice low. "There'll be more like him."
Selena nodded, steeling herself. "Right. Let's go."
As they slipped through the room, she couldn't help but glance at Reynard again. Despite everything, he seemed completely unshaken.
He's one of a kind, she thought, a pang of longing tightening in her chest. Maybe someday…
"Nah…"
"What is that?" asked Reynard."
"Nothing, pretty boy."
Selena's breath hitched as a memory surfaced, vivid and unwelcome. She saw herself as a child, stumbling through the dense, punishing terrain of the Hunting Dogs Initiative training camp. The drills had been brutal, the aura training relentless. Her father had insisted it was the only way to survive, to thrive in a world that rewarded strength above all else.
It was there, in that cold, merciless environment, that she had met Leora. Recently orphaned, Leora had been just as lost and bitter as Selena. The shared hardship forged a bond between them, one that felt more like sisterhood than mere friendship.
But Selena hadn't lasted. One night, overwhelmed by the suffocating control of the camp and the Association, she escaped. Her departure wasn't without consequence—she'd traded a future of discipline for a life of crime, staying as far from the Association's reach as possible. Yet here she was now, back in its grasp, navigating an exam designed to test not only her skills but her resolve.
The faint hum of sliding steel jolted her back to the present. Behind them, the walls shifted, revealing an unmarked door. Selena's concentration wavered, and the camouflage she'd been maintaining dissolved. Startled, she stiffened, her instincts screaming for action.
A firm hand rested on her shoulder, grounding her. "I got your back," Reynard said, his voice steady and calm.
Selena exhaled, the tension easing slightly as she met his gaze. "And I've got yours, too."
Their exchange was brief, an unspoken understanding passing between them before they turned their attention to the newly revealed passage. Intense aura radiated from beyond the doorway, the kind that set Selena's nerves on edge. Whatever lay ahead promised to be even more treacherous than the chaos they had just survived.
"Proceed forward," commanded the disembodied voice, cold and authoritative.
Selena and Reynard stepped into the narrow, darkened corridor, joining the remaining contestants. The path felt shorter than expected, the oppressive darkness amplifying every sound. Selena felt Reynard's hand brush against hers, his grip reassuring as he whispered, "I've got sharper senses in the dark. Let me guide us."
Trusting him, she followed his lead, grateful for the subtle but confident way he navigated the crowded passage. Soon, they emerged into a brightly lit chamber. The sudden flood of light stung Selena's eyes, and she blinked rapidly to adjust.
Her stomach sank when she realized how few people stood around them. The room was nearly empty compared to the mob that had filled the previous stages.
The voice from before returned, now laced with a mocking edge. "Congratulations on surviving the second stage! And don't worry—they aren't dead!"
Selena glanced at Reynard, his expression unreadable, though his sharp gaze swept the room. She followed his lead, studying the faces of the remaining contestants. Weariness and uncertainty marked every expression, a silent testament to the ordeal they'd all endured.
"How many didn't make it?" she murmured, more to herself than to Reynard.
"Enough to remind us this is no ordinary test," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "But everything so far has been manageable. It's just another layer of the game."
The announcer's voice interrupted again, casual yet sinister. "You've just passed the Trickster Stage! Now, wait for the next phase… The others are a bit slow. So loosen up, people—make friends or something!"
Selena exchanged a wary glance with Reynard, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Around them, the remaining contestants shifted uneasily. Some whispered in hushed tones, while others stood apart, scanning the room like predators sizing up prey.
Selena leaned closer to Reynard, keeping her voice low. "Trickster Stage, huh? I knew the Association's exams were tough, but this is something else."
"They're testing more than skills," Reynard said, his tone measured. "They want to see how we handle uncertainty, who we align with, and how we read the game." His gaze lingered on a small group huddled near the wall, their conversation guarded. "Everyone's calculating. Allies, threats… This is a test of trust as much as ability."
Selena crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Friends or foes, it doesn't matter. No one here is as reliable as you."
Reynard smirked faintly, a flicker of warmth breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor. "That makes two of us. But we'll still need to make friends."
Selena's retort was cut short as the lights flickered, dimming briefly. A figure emerged from the crowd, moving with a calm, deliberate stride. Selena tensed, instinctively shifting closer to Reynard.
The woman stopped a few paces away, her posture relaxed but purposeful. "I'm Sarah," she said, nodding to them both. "Mind if I join you?"
Selena glanced at Reynard, who gave the faintest shrug, leaving the decision to her. Forcing a polite smile, Selena nodded. "Sure," she said cautiously.
Allies were one thing, but trust was another matter entirely.
Sarah tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What are you? An item?" she asked, her tone laced with playful skepticism.
Selena let out a snort, unable to suppress her amusement. "I wish!" she quipped, crossing her arms.
Reynard, standing between them, shook his head with a faint smile. "I'm already married," he said, his tone light but final.
Selena caught Sarah's brief reaction—a flicker of something unreadable before she quickly masked it. Whatever the woman was thinking, Selena didn't trust her intentions, no matter how casually she acted.
Reynard sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I need to recover my aura. I'll rest for a bit."
Selena's instincts kicked in immediately. "I've got your back," she offered, her voice steady.
But Reynard shook his head firmly. "No, you can't."
Without waiting for her protest, he sat down and reclined on his back as if he were preparing to sleep. Closing his eyes, he folded his hands over his chest and settled into what looked like a meditative state.
Seriously?
Selena couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight. Reynard was always so composed, even when the situation called for anything but. She decided to make herself comfortable too. Shrugging off her leather jacket, she slipped on a denim one, a lighter choice that matched the strange, simmering tension of their surroundings.
The boredom crept in quickly. Her fingers itched for something to do, so she unshrunk the smartphone she had hidden within her bracelet, a neat little trick thanks to her special ability, miniaturization. It was an incredibly convenient power, allowing her to stash and retrieve items with ease. The phone buzzed to life in her hand, and she connected to the bounty tracker app.
Her gaze flicked toward Reynard as she scrolled. The bounty on his head had been steadily increasing, climbing higher each day. Selena sighed, the number on the screen a grim reminder of why she was here. Leora's desperate call had replayed in her mind more times than she cared to admit. Her friend had begged her to take on this bodyguard assignment, worried sick about Reynard's safety. And now, here she was—protecting a married man while her own search for her soulmate was put on hold.
Her soulmate.
The thought made her chest tighten. Her bloodline demanded she find the one destined for her soon, or face a fate she barely understood. What that fate entailed, no one could—or would—tell her. But time was running out, and every moment spent guarding Reynard felt like a detour from her own destiny.
If Reynard hadn't been married, Selena might have considered him her soulmate. He was calm, reliable, and had an unshakable presence that steadied her in ways few others could. But Leora had found him first, and the bond they shared was undeniable. Selena shook the thought away, knowing it wasn't worth dwelling on.
Her eyes returned to the tracker. She'd done her own digging into the bounty's origins, and the timeline matched suspiciously well with recent events—a series of disappearances involving wealthy moguls and whispers of a covered-up massacre at a gala out west. It reeked of hunter business.
The most troubling piece of evidence? The involvement of someone called "The Author." There was only one person she knew who went by that name.
Selena's gaze flicked back to Reynard, who now let out a faint snore. A soft smile tugged at her lips despite the seriousness of her thoughts. Did he even know about the bounty? Or the storm that seemed to be gathering around him?
Moments later, Reynard stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He stretched, his movements slow and deliberate as he stood.
Selena raised an eyebrow, smirking. "How is it? Did you just doze off?"
Reynard's lips twitched into a small smile. "It's called a half-sleep state. It lets me recover my aura and clear mental fatigue."
Selena tilted her head, skeptical. "Is that even a real thing?"
He chuckled softly. "Probably not. But for some reason, it works… and that's what matters."
Selena shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her. Trust Reynard to come up with something like that. Practicality over logic—another thing Leora probably admired about him.
~020