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“Oh don’t worry,” she said, still giggling. “It’s real.”
Iris lurched forward and collected a tablet from a nearby rack, tapping it a few times before shoving it under my nose. “What about this?”
For fuck’s sake.
My face had the audacity to heat at the image.
Usually, a pair of dark jeans and a hoodie was what I considered fashionable. This was… decidedlynot that.
The avatar was wearing loose pants that cinched at the waist with pockets along the sides, paired with combat boots.
Those were safe, preferable even.
But theshirtwas a strappy tank top that showed off the midriff with an evenshorterhoodie on top of it.
It was the sort of thing that would draw eyes to me.
Paired with a mask, it’d beperfect.
She might be a little overeager for my taste, but I’d really lucked out with Iris.
“It’s excellent,” I praised, catching her eye. “But don’t touch my hair.”
She let out a surprised laugh, slapping her hand against my shoulder. “You got it! A green mask work for you?”
I wrinkled my nose.
She laughed. “Not green then, what would you prefer?”
A flicker of violet chiffon tugged at my memory, my mouth curving into a cocky grin as I looked into the mirror. “Purple.”
* * *
The glowing mask felt heavy in my hands, the crossed-out eyes and stretched smiling mouth stared up at me cheerily in the dimly lit waiting area.
It was like it fucking knew what putting it on cost me.
Taunting me about what was going to happen behind those walls.
The second that mask covered my face, the games would start. Maybe not officially, but in my mind at least.
They had to.
I couldn’t allow myself to stay the same Kohl who’d promised her I wouldn’t enter. I’d have to be someone—somethingelse entirely.
A killer.
Entering the arena as the Kohl pining after a girl who hadnoidea I was about to throw my life away forherwas a death warrant. It wasn’t just enough for me to play.
I needed towin.
To do that, I’d need to forget. My worries. My convictions. Who I wanted to be. All of it.
I’d need to become…like him.
No, I’d need to be worse. Second place wasn’t enough for me.
“Whoa, are you Kohl?” a feminine voice behind me asked. “You’re the second Wolff legacy, right? Fuck, I didn’t think you were entering this ye—”
