Page 172 of Juliet & Her Romeos

My eyes smart with tears.

I can’t return to the Cinders.

I’m a Romeo.

It burns in my chest, my Soul Mark, my soul itself.

I’ll fight Silvanus, if he tries to make me.

I’ll run.

Why was Ambrose so certain from the very beginning that he’d win this?

“He’s catching up.” Vito swings me around in his arms in his excitement. “Look, Jules. He’s only fucking catching up.”

Ambrose is close behind Silvanus now.

“He planned to stay behind him on the first lap.” I don’t look away from the game of cat and mouse that’s being played out in front of us. I thought that Silvanus was the cat. I’m realizing that Ambrose was in fact the one with the claws all along. “It’s part of his strategy.”

“Our Chief Alpha has balls of fucking steel,” Vito says, admiringly. “I’d have hit this race with everything that I had right from the start, after how your cousin spoke to us. But then, Silvanus was trying to psyche Ambrose out, as if he was a boxer before a match. Force Ambrose into making a mistake. But he’s playing this cool as ever.”

I hold my breath.

Ambrose is coming up to the final corner of the second lap.

He picks up speed, before finally overtaking Silvanus.

“He’s done it.” I kiss Vito, who kisses me back.

Then we cling to each, too scared to look away, as both cars zoom into the final lap.

At last, Ambrose bursts into flight.

It’s spellbinding.

He’d been holding back.

Now, he finally unleashes himself, aggressively attacking the circuit.

He pulls far ahead of Silvanus, leaving him in his smoke.

It’s like watching a professional racer against an amateur.

He’s going to do it.

“Please, please, please..” I chant.

He’s on the final straight…

Almost at the finish line.

Then Ambrose crosses it, comfortably ahead of Silvanus.

Humiliatingly far ahead of him.

“And the Romeos win!” Vito cheers.

Ambrose has done it: he’s won the race.

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