|| Lilac's POV ||

The torches flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the sacred fighting circle. The air smelled of crushed herbs and sweat, thick with anticipation. My pulse hammered in my throat as I watched my brother—my little Ezra—stand bare-chested across from Elias, his muscles coiled like a spring.

Elias cracked his knuckles, the sound like dry twigs snapping. "Don't take it personally, pup."

Ezra said nothing. His face was a mask of calm, but his ...