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As I watched the many pairs before us take to the ice, my heart pounded a million miles a minute. Why had we ended up toward the end of the line-up? All this waiting was killing me.
Of course, it might have been even worse skating early and then waiting over and over to see if our current rank would be displaced by someone else.
My foot tapped against the floor with clicks of my skate guard until I noticed and held it still. The pair who’d just launched into their routine were right before us—we were up next. I needed to find my inner calm and stay focused.
The truth was that despite my anxiety, my childhood self was doing somersaults in my chest. No matter what score we earned, just being here at Worlds was a longtime dream I’d barely allowed myself to consider might be possible.
I just had to keep reaching for the gold with each competition season, and someday I might be known among the greats. Skating here in Nagano was just one step along a much larger—and incredibly thrilling—journey.
My gaze followed the pair on the ice. They launched into an impressive lift that had me holding my breath, but the woman had to drop her raised foot too quickly on the dismount to recover her balance.
I couldn’t criticize her. It was totally possible we’d have a much more epic wipeout when we attempted our spin to lift transition.
No, don’t think about that. We had nailed it a couple of times. I knew it was possible.
All we had to do was repeat what we’d already done. When I thought about it that way, it only sounded slightly terrifying.
I glanced toward the stands. Niko, standing behind me and Jasper, caught my gaze with a typical sunny smile. He exuded nothing but warm confidence.
I found myself grinning back at him. Then my attention slid farther, to where Rafael and Quentin were sitting next to each other in seats a few rows up. They both nodded to me when they saw me looking their way, Rafael offering one of his subdued smiles that meant as much as a broad grin and Quentin offering a thumbs up.
A couple rows higher, Emi waved eagerly at me. She was beaming so bright you’d have thought she’d already won a gold medal.
As I drew my gaze away, it snagged on a face I hadn’t expected to see. Beckett was sitting in the crowd, watching the current skaters intently with his hand at his chin.
My heart skipped a beat in surprise, and I scanned the rest of the seats more carefully. In a matter of seconds, I picked out not just the Blood Hunter but also the two older men who’d arrived for my confrontation with Mom—the ones who’d hesitated the longest before accepting Rafael as my replacement.
When they caught me staring, one gave a brief nod. The other kept up an impenetrably stern expression.
A fresh jitter ran through my nerves. Beckett and the Blood Hunter had been my allies for a while—I could believe they were only here out of personal interest. But the other two…
Had they come to evaluate how serious I really was about my skating? To find proof that I really was giving up the Devil’s Dozen life with this other career?
I took a deep breath. Let them watch. I knew how committed I was. They couldn’t help but see that I was on the same level as the other skaters here—a level I couldn’t have reached if I wasn’t practicing like my life depended on it.
At least they’d believed in me enough to think it was possible I had a valid alternative. Mom had never bothered to do that much.
I was so far in my head that I barely noticed the end of the previous pair’s routine. Seeing them heading toward the boards, I pushed to my feet with a rush of giddy exhilaration. Jasper and I stepped out onto the ice, knowing exactly what words we’d hear next.
“Our next skaters are representing the United States: Luna Garcia and Jasper St. Pierre.”
Jasper and I pushed off across the ice. We glided in a loop around the edge of the arena, giving our muscles a slight additional warm-up and the audience a chance to take in our costumes.
My gaze sought out my other men again. Emi let out a whoop from her seat. A smile touched my lips as the sensation swept through me that they were all here with me on the ice almost as solidly as my partner, who was squeezing my hand.
We struck our opening pose. The rink had gone quiet, so still I’d swear the judges would hear my heart thudding away. But there was nothing left in it but joy and determination now. I was going to show everyone what I was put on this earth to do.
The first notes of our song resonated through the air, and I felt the music right down to my bones. I’d skated to this melody so often it might as well have been a part of me, like the rhythm of my breath and my pulse.
The two of us became parallel shooting stars as we shot across the rink. I kept my face relaxed, my expression languid. My brows flicked up only slightly as my partner lifted me up into our complex opening lift. One beat, two beats, a third—whirling across the ice with the lilting notes.
After Jasper lowered me, we took off again in a darting game of cat and mouse that went along perfectly with the swelling cadence that pumped through the PA speakers. We jumped high, spun fast, flowing from one move into the next like our bodies had been made for nothing else.
The entire time, the exhilaration that’d filled me buoyed me up. I’d won my way to freedom. I’d faced the world I’d come from, conquered it, and set off into new territory I was making my own. Now I was going to conquer this challenge too—and have a lot more fun doing it.
And I’d made it here with four amazing men who were still supporting me through every leap across the ice.
We whipped around, and Jasper grasped my hand to propel me into the spin that would lead into our next lift. My pulse hiccupped just once, and then I latched on to the peace in his gray-green eyes. The storm clouds so often there had faded away.
