SAGE
I barely had time to think before Adam reached me.
One moment I was standing in the center of the arena, the weight of an era lifted from my shoulders, the next I was in the air.
I squealed. Actually squealed.
He lifted me clean off the ground, arms firm around my waist, and spun me once—twice—again—until the world blurred into gold and stone and cheering faces.
"Adam!" I laughed breathlessly, clutching his shoulders.
When he finally set me down, I barely had a second to steady myself before his hands framed my face. His eyes—still bright with unshed tears and overwhelming pride—searched mine as if to confirm I was real.
"I am so proud of you," he said.
The words struck deeper than all the chants of justice.
Before I could respond, he sealed his lips over mine.
