Someone waved a glowing heart withVAELOR + MARA = VARApulsing across it.
Mara covered her face with both hands. “I’m going to crawl into the snow and never come out.”
Vaelor looked entirely too calm for someone whose private moment had just been broadcast to half the galaxy. “They seem… enthusiastic.”
“Vaelor, they made a promo out of us!”
“It was accurate,” he said simply.
She elbowed him, cheeks burning.
The hologram shifted again. “But every romance needs a rival!”
Blaine appeared on screen, at the beginning of the games with his confidence, showcasing his muscles for the crowd, moments of him flirting with Mara—followed immediately by the clip of Vaelor punching him unconscious.
The hologram audience went wild.
“DOWN HE GOES!”
“BEST MOMENT OF THE SEASON!”
“REPLAY! REPLAY!”
And they replayed it.
Three times.
Blaine’s face turned redder with each loop. Dugan seemed intrigued and watched each replay.
Mara whispered, “You really hit him hard.”
Vaelor’s voice was low. “He endangered you.”
Her heart made a strange, warm flip.
The hologram shifted one last time.
A reporter stood in a familiar hospital hallway, holding a mic toward a man in a bed—Mara’s father.
Mara’s breath caught. “Daddy.”
He looked tired, pale, but determined. His eyes were bright with pride.
“Mr. Sinclair,”the reporter asked,“how do you feel about your daughter competing in the Galactic Survivor Games?”
Her father smiled—soft, fierce, unshakable.
“My daughter is stronger than anyone realizes. I’m proud of her. And she’s going to win.”
The report indulged him with a warm smile.“The whole galaxy is watching to see if she does.”
Mara’s throat tightened. She blinked hard, but the sting behind her eyes remained.
The hologram faded, the fire returning to its normal orange glow.
Silence settled over the camp.
Vaelor’s hand brushed hers—gentle, grounding.
