I awaken, finding myself alone in my own bed. Lincoln’s left a small note on the nightstand beside me. ‘Off to rumple the couch before your mom wakes up. See you at breakfast. L.’ With a sad smile, I slip the note into the top drawer of my little table. It came from Lincoln; I can’t bring myself to throw it away.

My bedroom door swings open. Mom steps inside, my fighting suit gripped in her hand. The worry lines around her eyes have deepened overnight. She pauses. “You’re up.”

I hoist myself to a seated position and set my feet on the chilly floor. “Yeah. I didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“It’s 5 AM. Time to get ready for the Arena.”

I rub my neck and stretch. “Thanks, Mom.” Nervous energy twists down my spine. My hands tremble slightly.

Come on, Myla. This should be a match like all the others. Stay calm.

Tossing my suit on the bed, Mom gives my shoulder a gentle pat. “We’re all in the kitchen. See you there when you’re ready.” She steps toward the door and pauses. “Do you want some Frankenberry?”

“Sure, Mom.” The way my stomach churns, I may not hold it down, though.

I change into my fighting suit and step into our little kitchen, which is standing-room-only this morning. Mom, Cissy, and Zeke all sit at our tiny table. Lincoln and Walker stand nearby. Tim waits in a far corner, looking wide-eyed and twitchy.

The Prince winds me into a cozy hug. “Good morning, Myla.”

Leaning into his shoulder, I inhale his yummy scent of forest pine and leather. “I’m glad you’re here.” I force on a grin.

His voice sounds low and soft in my ear. “You’ll kick ass today.”

A genuine smile curls my mouth. “Hells, yeah.” Stepping back, I take in Lincoln’s gear: black body armor, daggers holstered on his outer thighs, and baculum strapped to the base of his spine. “You look ready to kick ass too.”

Lincoln shrugs. “Another day at the office.”

Cissy and Zeke step closer; they’re careful not to stare at my new blue irises. It’s like those dreams where I show up to school naked, only instead of naked, I’m a blue-eyed, soul-swapping super-being. I’m sure they’re trying to be sensitive, but sheesh. I feel like enough of a freak already.

“Morning, Myla.” Cissy wraps me in an especially long squeeze. “Walker told us everything. I’m going to miss you, sweetie.”

“I’ll miss you too, Cissy.” I picture the little shoebox of moths in her locker. I’ve always relied on Cissy to pick up the pieces and protect the endangered cocoon of weirdness that is my life. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do without her friendship. “Very much.” My voice catches.