Their opening twist lift soared high and clean, Mila snapping perfectly into position before Luka caught her with the kind of effortless certainty that made difficult things look inevitable.
Nathan let out a low whistle beside me. “Okay. Big start.”
Brooke folded her arms tighter. “Their timing’s unreal tonight.”
Everything looked locked in, connected. The transitions flowed seamlessly into the first throw jump, Mila landing clean with enough speed coming out of it that the audience reacted immediately. Luka’ssolo jump followed without hesitation, every movement precise and economical, no wasted energy, no visible strain.
Brooke elbowed me. “You okay over there?”
“I’m fine.”
She smirked. “Sure you are. Then tell yourself to breathe.”
My attention snapped back to the ice as Luka lifted Mila overhead again, rotating smoothly through the second lift sequence while the music built beneath them.
Oh my God.
Luka had always been extraordinary, but this was something else.
Nathan saw it too. “He’s letting himself perform more.”
The observation startled me because it was exactly right.
Before Milan, Luka had always skated as though perfection was something to survive.
Now he skated like he wanted to be seen.
The death spiral drew a collective inhale from the crowd, Mila’s body dropping impossibly close to the ice while Luka anchored the movement with terrifying control.
Then came the jump sequence, clean and sharp.
Brooke groaned. “Damn it.”
Nathan laughed under his breath. “Yeah, they’re not missing tonight.”
By the time they got to the choreographic sequence near the end, the audience was rooting for them, the emotional energy in the building shifting palpably as the music climbed toward its finish.
And through all of it, I couldn’t stop watching Luka, the concentration in him, the moments where his attention flickered instinctively toward Mila, the instinctive trust that came from years of doing this together.
The final pair spin accelerated sharply before slowing into their closing movement, both of them hitting the ending pose together with breathtaking precision.
Then stillness before the crowd erupted.
Nathan exhaled hard beside me. “Well,” he muttered. “That’s annoying.”
Brooke smacked his arm without taking her eyes off the ice. “And there go those lines, blurring again. Annoying for us, but awesome for Luka and Mila.”
I barely heard either of them, because Luka had lifted his head at center ice, his chest rising and falling hard, and even from across the arena his gaze found mine.
For a second, the noise in the arena disappeared. I’d expected relief or triumph. What I saw was something deeper, as though somewhere during those four minutes, he’d stopped skating for Velkarya alone.
And started skating for himself too.
Luka
Applause still rolled aroundthe arena in waves as Mila grabbed my hand and pulled me off the ice beside her, both of us breathing hard, adrenaline still flooding through every part of me. My legs felt strangely light, almost disconnected from the rest of my body.
The moment we reached the Kiss and Cry, Aleksy was there first, catching Mila in a fierce hug before pulling me into one just as abruptly.
