The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 120

Liora

Even from the competitor’s entrance, I could feel the crowd’s pulse, cheers breaking in bursts, laughter, the occasional boo. Screening day. One hell of a mess.

Inside, the prep tent was a different beast. No cheering here. Just leather, sweat, chalk, and the creak of armor straps being pulled tight. Benches lined the walls, filled with would-be champions adjusting gear or sizing up the competition.

I stood at one end, wrapping my hands—tight across the knuckles, loop over the wrist, pull, knot, repeat. The uniform was half gladiator, half practical: fitted dark tunic, reinforced leather at the shoulders and ribs, heavy bracers, boots built for traction and speed. Enough to protect, minimal enough to shift quickly if needed.

Eyes followed me. Whispers floated. A snicker. But I’d heard worse than wolfless. Day in, day out.

A stocky boy with scarred arms leaned to the girl beside him. “That’s her? The pity case?”

I smiled without looking. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s your spot I’ll take.”

He stiffened, silent.

Then the announcer’s voice boomed, amplified from every wall.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the official tournament screening! Today’s victors will secure their place in the Moon Goddess Trials! Only twenty out of hundreds will move on! Who will it be?!”

A roar answered—cheers, whistles, stomping feet.

“And crazy enough,” the voice went on, “for the first time in our academy’s history… a wolfless competitor enters the ring! Give it up for Liora Belrose!”

The crowd went very quiet. Then, from the stands, came a mix of cheers and jeers, some voices calling my name in encouragement, others throwing it like an insult.

“Liora! Go! Let’s show ‘em!”

“What a fraud!”

“Bite her back in place! Submission!”

I stepped forward when the steward gestured, hands steady, chin high.

“And following her…” the announcer purred, drawing it out, “…our very own golden star—Bianca Vale!”

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