Adair? As in ‘ooh you have such muscle-y muscles’ Adair? I grit my teeth and work hard to slow my breathing. I’m built to show up and kick ass, not stand around while girly dips do their thing.

I inhale a slow breath. Keep it together, Myla. I’m sure she’ll just prance out onto the Arena floor and then stand somewhere and look pretty.

Four girls around my age step through a stadium archway, each wearing a gown in their house’s color: yellow, purple, bronze, and blue. They saunter across the Arena floor to stand before the King, Queen, and High Prince. Lincoln lowers his baculum; the fiery blade disappears.

I glance at my watch. School’s almost over. This bleeding ceremony has to end soon.

“The procession is complete,” says Verus. “We will now awaken the Scala Heir.”

The angels once again rise to their feet, their great wings extending behind their backs. They speak in unison. “Who is the Scala Heir?”

The Lady Adair raises her hand to shoulder level, palm forward. “I am the Scala Heir.”

What?! No freaking way. The Scala is supposed to be part angel, demon, and human. Thrax are only part human and angel. I eye Lady Adair carefully. She’s so perfect and cute-sy, she could easily be part-demon. Maybe she’s descended from one of those swamp monsters who pretend to be a lovely, drowning lady. You try to rescue the pretty, and you’re lured to your death. Yeah, that’s it.

Lady Adair speaks again, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “I look forward to following in the long tradition of a thrax Scala.”

I grimace. The old Scala can’t last much longer. If she’s the Scala Heir, I could spend years of quality time with this loser. Gross.

Adair carefully positions her long blonde hair over one shoulder. She’s tall and willowy with porcelain skin, high cheekbones, a thin mouth, and a turned-up nose. One mismatched eye is emerald green, the other’s drab brown. All in all, she looks perfectly capable of getting a book down from a shelf without any help.

Verus nods. “We shall now awaken the Scala Heir.” All the angels lower their heads. A point of white light appears in the air above the stadium. I wince and shield my eyes with one hand. My body relaxes a bit. Things are getting interesting again.

The Queen of the Angels raises her arms toward the floating white light. “We draw forth igni power to the Scala Heir.”

My gaze shifts between the magical light and Adair, who whispers back and forth with Gianna. I raise my brows. I’m bored too, but I’m not chit-chatting from the middle of the Arena floor.