SERAPHINA’S POV
The bow was heavier than I expected, but it settled into my grip like it belonged there, and the comfort of its familiarity soothed me.
A hush rippled through the crowd as I stepped into the cordoned-off area. My stomach churned—not from fear, but from the sheer awareness of how many eyes followed my every move.
The rules had been called out, loud and clear: No werewolf heightened senses. Only human skill and focus.
Helen stood across from me, already poised, bowstring taut, eyes gleaming with smug confidence.
Good. Let her underestimate me.
The attendant raised his hand. “First round. Three arrows each. Highest total score advances.”
I inhaled. Exhaled. The string drew back against my cheek, the feather of the arrow brushing my jaw.
My heartbeat steadied as I released.
Thwack.
Dead center.
Gasps echoed. Scattered applause.
Helen fired next—solid, but just shy of the bullseye. Her mouth tightened, smile faltering before she forced it back on.
