Ryder escorted Wren out of the arena to the rising cheer of the crowd, the announcer’s voice trailing after them: “Score of eighty-three for Wren Coulter!” The sound of applause followed them down the tunnel like a tide, washing over Ryder in waves of relief and exhaustion. Every clap, every shout felt like a heartbeat syncing with his own—fast, raw, alive.

By the time they reached the common area, Bella Rose was already rushing to Wren’s side, her hands fluttering over him as if she ...