The Wager Begins

The room was thick with tension. Eyes locked on us from every corner, their gazes burning with anticipation. I clenched my fists, swallowing down the surge of emotions threatening to crack my composure. This wasn't the time for weakness. Not here. Not in front of them.

I glanced at Sylus. His face betrayed nothing, but his hand twitched at his side—a sign only I could decipher. This wager wasn't just a game to these people; it was an opportunity to strip us bare, piece by piece. Finally, Sylus looked at me and gave a single, resolute nod.

"We accept," he said, his voice calm but resolute.

The room erupted in whispers, a ripple of excitement mixed with venom. I expected relief to wash over me, but instead, dread settled in its place. I had barely turned to leave when Evangeline's voice sliced through the noise like a whip.

"Freya," she called sweetly, her tone dripping with false politeness.