I didn’t try to turn toward them. I just kept kicking, lungs shredding, every thought reduced to one brutal command:Live.
By the time my chest scraped the riverbank, I could barely feel anything.
I shoved myself up the muddy slope, kicking and rolling, using my shoulders for leverage. The ground was rough and frozen in patches, raking against bare skin as I dragged myself forward. Every muscle screamed, my lungs heaving like I’d swallowed knives. The cold had gone past sharp. It was bone-deep now, a heavy, crushing numbness that made it hard to tell if I was even moving at all.
When I finally collapsed onto solid ground, I just lay there for a second. My body convulsed in shivers. I couldn’t stop. My fingers wouldn’t close.
Move.
The word echoed, slow and far away, like my brain was shouting from another room.
If I stayed on the ground, I’d freeze.
I rolled onto my side and fought to sit up, my breath coming in ragged bursts. The bag still clung to my face, plastered against my skin. I dug my shoulder into the dirt and rubbed hard, twisting until the fabric snagged on a rock and tore. One final jerk, and it came free, ripping off with a gasp of air.
The air hit like fire.
I sucked in a lungful, coughed hard enough to see stars, then spat river water and bile into the grass. My wrists were still bound tight behind me, circulation long gone.
“Son of a bitch,” I rasped. My teeth chattered so hard it hurt.
The only thought that made it through the fog was that I had to get warm. Fast.
I forced myself upright, swaying as the world tilted and steadied again. The river had carried me past the docks, but they weren’t far—just a dark line down the shoreline.
My feet protested with every step, skin splitting against gravel and frozen mud. The air bit at every inch of my exposed body, the wind slicing through me like I didn’t have skin at all.
Maybe my stuff’s still there.The thought barely registered as hope, more instinct than belief.
By the time I reached the boards, my body felt foreign, heavy and shaking. My bare feet slapped against the wet wood, pain flaring up my legs with every step. My breath came in ragged white bursts as I made it to the spot where I’d been attacked.
Nothing.
No hoodie. No sweatpants. No wallet or phone.
Just empty boards and the black river below.
My pulse hammered in my ears. The cold wasn’t an ache anymore—it was an invasion.
The bastards had taken everything.
Of course they had. The Sphinx didn’t do anything halfway.
I just didn’t know what the hell this one was supposed to test—other thanhow not to die.
I stared out at the water, teeth chattering so hard my jaw ached, reminding myself why I was doing this. Why I needed in. Connections. Protection. Power. Things I couldn’t afford not to have…especially with what my dad and Kenton had started.
But if one of those masked freaks showed up right then, I was pretty sure I’d try to kill them. Naked and freezing or not.
I stood there for another minute, shivering so hard my vision blurred, waiting for someone to jump out and yellsurpriseorcongratulations, you survived.
Nothing.
Just the wind, the river, and the sound of my teeth clacking like castanets.
A bitter laugh scraped out of my throat.
Guess that was it. Trial complete.
