Page 39 of Thief of Hearts

The final race was organized immediately. The top five winners from the other heats were already in position.

Had this been done deliberately? Had I been allocated to the fifth heat so that I would be too worn out to win the final race?

What about the men who had raced with me? Was this an unlucky coincidence or had they been put into that heat intentionally, too?

Zain gulped down water.

“Be careful,” I told him. “You can cramp up.”

“I can’t believe I have to do this again,” he said. “Fortunately for me, I held back in that heat. I wanted to ruin the odds of everyone who bet against me in the final race.”

Now I was the one laughing.

“Racers in position!” the announcer said. It wasn’t far to walk, as the finish line and starting line were in the same location. I found a set of bricks and Zain did the same, several feet away.

I’d barely had time to prepare myself when the announcer again called out, “Go!”

I thought of Zain saying he wanted to ruin the odds of those who had bet against him. I decided to do the same.

There wouldn’t be any taking it easy this time. I darted forward, dodging the foot of a man who tried to trip me. Another racer sent his arm wide, attempting to clothesline me so that I would drop. I avoided him, too.

With as many people as there were racing, one of these men would eventually manage to do something that would mess up my race.

As if he knew I was thinking it, a competitor tried to throw an elbow at me, which caused him to lose his footing and crash to the ground, taking out three other racers with him.

I had to get ahead of the pack and stay there.

Making my way through the crowd of racers felt like negotiating a battlefield. I never knew where the next attack was coming from or how much damage it might do. I needed to get away from the fight.

So I spun and darted and found openings through which to move. Despite all their best efforts to stop me, I finally made it to the front. Zain wasn’t far behind me. He was fast. Surprisingly so. I actually had to work a bit to keep my lead on him. I reached up to my hairline. Sweat. He had made me sweat. That hadn’t happened since I’d been a child.

The finish line was quickly approaching and Zain was nipping at my heels. Time to end this.

I ran faster than I had ever run in my life. I would be first. That was the only acceptable outcome.

But he wasn’t far behind. He was challenging me, making me work for it, and it made him even more attractive to me.

The final stretch. The finish line was in sight.

I reached deep inside myself and pulled out every bit of reserve energy that I had left and sprinted.

Chapter Thirteen

I crossed the finish line and relief flooded through my veins. I had done it. I’d won. The first event was mine. The stadium erupted—the sound was deafening.

Turning, I expected to see Zain directly behind me, also crossing the line. But he was farther back, along with the rest of the runners.

He hadn’t actually been that close to me—it had just felt that way. Which seemed odd.

But he did come in second.

I wasn’t there to congratulate him because I had gone to retrieve my tunic. I put it on, cinching it at the waist. I had given this crowd my pound of flesh and now I was done.

Zain sought me out. “You did it! You won!”

It looked as if he intended to hug me but remembered at the last moment that he was not wearing clothes.

“Thank you,” I said.