Page 49 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“Purple. They have two teams this year, and one chose rainbow.”

“Fucking Tyrian,” Rain muttered, remembering their bet.

“As in the PurplePrince?” Jay asked.

Rain nodded, scanning the crowd for Julian’s energy while the team slipped on their bands. Jay tried to slide Rain’s over his hand, but Rain took it from him and strode toward the tracks. The others instinctively followed.

Julian’s arrogant energy pulsed somewhere ahead; close, but not yet visible. Rain pushed forward until an arm shot out across his chest, stopping him before he could enter the arena. The officials at the gate demanded to see his band and team information.

Wren squeezed to the front, flashing the paperwork with a tight smile. Rain reluctantly pulled the band onto his wrist. Wren rolled her eyes as she explained to the officials that some of her team were “stubborn and forgetful,” while they recited the tournament rules.

Rain finally spotted Julian—lounging on a bench with his team, laughing at something one of them said. Gods, he hated that arrogant prick. It wasn’t just about Ivy, though the territorial spark still burned hotter than he’d liked to admit. Julian was simply insufferable.

As Julian’s laughter died, his gaze drifted toward Rain as if sensing his presence. Their eyes locked. Julian’s expression soured instantly. Rain flicked a breeze of energy toward him—just enough to ruffle his hair. Julian smirked at the challenge before turning back to his team. They both knew exactly what that exchange meant: they were going to outplay each other at every opportunity.

“Looks like we’ve got some big competition. At least we have you as our not-so-secret weapon,” Wren said.

The team’s collective anxiety washed over Rain—uncertainty, inadequacy, nerves tightening like a net. They weren’t going to stand a chance if they continued to sit in that mindset. He stepped before them, channelling a subtle confident boost toward his friends.

“Hey! Come on, everyone in. Circle up.” Rain slung an arm around Jay and Thomas, urging the others to link together. “Listen. I know you allthink I’m the one who’s going to get us the win, but that’s not true. We will win because each of us bring something unique into the competition. You don’t even need me, but here I am because I want to be part of your greatness. We have got this!” He had them all captivated, their energies shifting toward empowerment. A group nearby snickered, their energy cruel and aimed in their direction. “And remember—WE DO NOT LET THE OPINIONS OF OTHERS DICTATE OUR SUCCESS. DO WE?”

They stared at him, wide-eyed, encouraged but nervous.

“Do we?”

This time they shouted back a resounding no, voices echoing.

“That’s more like it. And hey—if we happen to humiliate the Purple team in the process, that’s an added bonus.” He smirked as they all rolled their eyes.

“Too right. We better kick their asses,” Jasmine muttered, patting his shoulder with a wicked grin. She wanted to beat them as badly as he did. She’d tried countless times to get into Purple’s national team, only to be rejected. Seeing they had a second team this year must have lit a fire under her. Rain couldn’t understand why they hadn’t snapped her up—she was an extraordinary gymnast. Purple usually hoarded talent like dragon’s hoard gold. Somehow Jasmine had slipped through the cracks, and honestly? Their loss was his gain.

After stretching and warming up, all teams were called into position.

The arena had been transformed into a brutal obstacle course divided into ten zones. Each zone had to be completed by a different team member before tagging the next. The first five teams to finish would qualify for the official tournament. There would be ten games throughout the day, and Rain’s team was among the first to compete; likely all teams with royal status were among the morning games.

Royals were required to represent two members, completing two zones each before tagging out. It wasn’t exactly fair; many royal powers weren’t even useful in the games. But genetically, royals were stronger, faster, and more resilient than the average mortal. This rule was the compromise.

Unfortunately for everyone else, one of Rain’s powers was extremely useful. But he refused to abuse it unless provoked. His team supported that; they wanted a clean win.

Chapter 20

The race exploded into motion, bodies launching onto the course. Jasmine took the first section, giving them an early lead as she sprinted up the 200-meter beam with effortless grace. She finished with two front flips—showing off—before slapping Daphne’s hand. The crowd roared, voices echoing across the arena, shouting directions and encouragement. It was utter chaos.

Rain blocked out most of the noise. Once, this kind of crowd would have overwhelmed him, their energy flooding his senses until he couldn’t think. Today it only fed him; sharp pulses of adrenaline humming through his veins.

Daphne swung into her course, her brassy braid swaying valiantly behind her as she navigated a line of hanging objects. She moved easily at first, clearing the halfway mark. Then the obstacles shifted to rotating ones, demanding more grip strength and upper-body power. Her pace slowed. Rain glanced at the other teams; Green had taken the lead, with Red and Purple close behind. Their advantage was gone, but that was fine. They’d chosen this order for a reason. He could make up the time.

“Almost there, Daphne!” he called, edging closer to her podium, hand outstretched. “You’re doing amazing, just a bit further!”

Her golden hair whipped behind her as she reached the final obstacle: a massive hanging ball. She swung her legs, building momentum, thenreleased the previous bar and caught the ball with her arms, wrapping her legs around it. If she fell, she’d have to start over.

Her confidence wavered. Rain felt the drop in her stomach as she missed her timing, and the ball swung her backward. She clung on, breath hitching, then steadied herself. Three rocking motions later, she launched forward, landing hard on the podium and slapping his hand with a sweaty palm.

Rain shot forward.

The twenty-foot wall loomed ahead, dotted with pegs for climbing. A rope waited on the far side for the descent, followed by a combat-style crawl course. After that came the heights-based parkour zone—his second section—leading straight to Jay’s hand off.

He leapt, catching the highest peg he could reach. His body slammed against the wall, but he scrambled upward, feet finding purchase. At the top he didn’t bother pausing; he simply flipped straight over the edge, free-falling until he caught the rope near the bottom. The friction burned his palm, but he tightened his grip and braced as he swung into the wall a foot above the ground.