Felicity sat in Harrison’s car, her composure unshaken, lips curling in a confident half–smile as she watched two race cars closing in on Solarius.
Even these spoiled rich boys knew how to play the game–strategy mattered on a track like this. With so many contenders, someone’s car would have to make a sacrifice if victory was to be claimed.
Inside her heavy helmet, Selene’s eyes were clear and sharp, untouched by fear or nerves. With a swift motion, she shifted gears, and suddenly the car’s right wheels lifted clean off the ground.
Adrian felt his view lurch upward, his eyes going wide as his heart thudded so hard it echoed in his chest.
She was riding on two wheels.
Both right–side tires–front and rear–had left the track entirely. The entire car raced forward at a forty–five degree tilt, like it might flip at any moment, but Selene held it steady.
One of the drivers who’d planned to box Solarius in suddenly found his world darkened by a shadow–a flash of black eclipsed his window. The rich kid in his passenger seat turned his head and found himself staring at the undercarriage of Selene’s car, barely inches away.
It looked like a monster rising from the depths, gaping wide to swallow them whole. Black tires spun right above their roof, like a sword dangling by a thread, promising disaster. They were trapped. The slightest miscalculation and Solarius’s car would come down right on top of them.
“Holy crap! Oh God!” the passenger screamed.
These wealthy heirs might have liked to play at racing, but they’d never seen anything like this.
The crowd, moments earlier still cheering, drew a collective, shuddering breath.
This was real stunt driving.
How much skill did it take, in a race like this, for Solarius’s driver to pull off a move like that right in the midst of danger?
Selene’s maneuver crashed through Dames’s understanding of what was possible
Chapter 98
on the racetrack. Goosebumps rose along his arms and his whole body shivered. He stared, wide–eyed, as the world tilted with Solarius’s car.
On the other side, the second car trying to cut Selene off saw it too–the raised roof of Solarius’s car, the spinning tires, the impossible angle.
“Holy-!” The passenger’s mind went blank, every instinct screaming at him: back
off now!
He knew that if he kept pressing Solarius, one wrong move and those airborne tires would come crashing down onto his car’s roof. This wasn’t a minor scrape–they were flirting with disaster.
It was psychological warfare–a game of chicken–and in the face of real danger, both drivers backed down fast.
They fell away, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and Solarius. Selene dropped her right wheels back to the ground and shot forward, pulling ahead once more.
The two cars that had tried to force her off course were left in the dust, their passengers white–knuckled and gasping for air.
“Mr. Grant, are you alright?” someone asked.
Mr. Grant was still slumped in the passenger seat of the car that had nearly been flattened by Solarius.
“Jesus Christ! I nearly pissed myself!” he blurted, legs shaking uncontrollably. Whatever bravado he’d brought to the race was gone; he was now a trembling wreck, melted into the seat.
Up on the stands, Dames hadn’t recovered from the shock of what he’d just witnessed. The night air brushed over his head, snapping him out of his stupor.
He glanced up at the giant screen, eyes glued to Solarius, his gaze now blazing with
awe.
So this was the skill of Aldonia’s top female racer–Luna.
Against her dazzling show of control, every other professional on the track suddenly looked like an amateur.
Dames forgot completely that his own father and Felicity were racing too. He bounced on his toes, joining the crowd in shouting at the top of his lungs:
“Go Luna! Luna for the win!”
08-52
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