PREVIEW

... raw tension in the air.

Distraction gnawed at him—not from the pressure of the arena, but from a single-minded annoyance at Mistress Veyne, Class B’s statuesque instructor.

Her emerald skirt, sculpted to her curves, had defied his playful breeze magic, remaining stubbornly motionless despite his subtle attempts to tease its hem.

The challenge ate at him, a private game he wasn’t ready to abandon.

Joren and Lila leaned forward from Class C’s crowded platform, thei ...

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