Chapter 30 Darkness. Then flashes of light. Voices float around me like wisps of smoke, never quite solid enough to grasp. I hear Raith's voice, rough with concern, then... Bastian? I think I hear them arguing. I'm vaguely aware of being carried in strong arms-Raith's arms-his heartbeat steady against my cheek as my head lolls against his chest. His scent envelops me, familiar and comforting even in my disoriented state. I hear his sharp voice silencing a few students who ask about me as he carries me somewhere. 'What happened to her?' 'Is that Thorne?' 'Why is Hollow carrying her?' "Did Raith kill her? I thought they were fucking?" My thoughts come like fuzzy impressions through a thick fog. I'm unable to tell if minutes or hours are passing. Time stretches and compresses in strange ways. I can sense that the void magic left something inside me, something cold and heavy that pulls me down into darkness whenever I try to surface. It's like being trapped in the depths of a frozen lake, looking up at a world I can't quite reach. 'Stay with me, angry human.' Typhon's voice is distant, as if he's calling to me from across a vast ocean. 'Your body is purging the void corruption, but it will take time. The siphon's touch has lingering effects, even secondhand as you received it.' I try to respond, but can't form the words. My tongue feels swollen, my throat raw. Instead, I sink deeper into the darkness that keeps pulling at me, dragging me under. 'No. Fight it.' Typhon's voice grows more urgent. 'The void magic seeks to sever our tether. It would leave you vulnerable, and I refuse to lose another human. Not after all the trouble you've been.' I want to tell him I'm trying, but the cold is seeping into my bones, making it impossible to resist the pull of unconsciousness. Just before I slip away completely, I feel a surge of warmth from somewhere outside myself-a flicker of fire magic, hot and bright, pushing back against the encroaching void. Raith. It has to be him. The last thing I remember is Typhon's voice, closer now: 'Interesting. The fire touched is lending you strength through the tether, thin as it may be.' Then nothing. I don't know how long it has been before I finally wake with my thoughts more clear, but my body is still diminished. There's soft linen beneath my fingertips. Warmth enveloping me. I'm in a bed, but not my own. I force my eyes open, blinking against even the dim light of a single candle burning beside the bed. Everything hurts, my muscles aching as if I've been training for days without rest. My mouth is dry, my lips cracked and bleeding. Even the simple act of breathing sends dull waves of pain through my chest. 'Water,' I croak, the word barely audible even to my own ears. A figure moves at the edge of my vision, and then Raith is there, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the candle as he holds a cup to my lips. I drink greedily, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. It tastes impossibly sweet. When I've had enough, he takes the cup away, his movements careful and precise. Now that my vision is clearing, I can see the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. He hasn't been sleeping. 'How long?' I manage when I finish, my voice still raspy. 'Two days,' Raith answers, his voice rough with exhaustion. 'You've been drifting in and out.' Two days. I try to sit up, but my arms tremble beneath me, refusing to support my weight. Raith's hand at my back steadies me, warm and solid. Two fucking days? We're not allowed to simply miss classes here. Missing a single day is enough to earn punishment that ranges from extra physical training to remedial lessons, and, of course, marks against our evaluation score. I can tell I'm not in the healer's room, either, so what the hells are they telling our instructors? The panic must show on my face, because Raith's expression softens slightly. 'Voss is handling it,' he says, answering my unspoken question. 'He told the instructors you were injured in a training accident and are recovering under his supervision. No one's going to question him. They aren't counting the missed classes against you.' I remember dimly that Voss was there when the siphon attacked, though now the memory feels distant, dreamlike. 'Crucible?' I ask, struggling to piece together how much time has passed. I can't even remember if it was more than two days away. 'Have I missed it?' 'Still coming,' Raith says. 'Just a few more days. But you need to rest now,' he says, gently pressing me back down when I try to sit up straighter. Something about Raith tugs at my awareness until it finally clicks. I remember now. I see his face-his thick tangled scars are little more than a shadow of what they were. He's watching me with an intensity that makes my heart quicken despite my weakness. The ruined left side, the patchwork of scar tissue that had marked him as a survivor of something terrible, I could almost imagine someone missing it now at a glance. 'Your scars,' I whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek before I can stop myself. The skin is smooth beneath my fingertips. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to⁠-' He catches my hand, holding it against his face for a moment before lowering it back to the bed. His touch lingers longer than necessary, a gentle pressure that sends a flutter through my chest. It also sends wisps of his fire essence into my body, warming me from the inside out. 'You saved my life,' he says. 'You have nothing to apologize for. And they were just scars.' 'But they were part of you.' I can't keep the guilt from my voice. I had no right to change him like that, to alter something so fundamental to his identity. Emotion touches his expression-grief, maybe, or resignation. 'They were a reminder of what I lost. Maybe... maybe it's time I stopped living in that moment.' 'He does not speak all that he feels,' Typhon observes, his voice clear in my head for the first time since I've woken. 'The fire human harbors deeper thoughts on this matter.' 'You've been quiet. Are you all right?' I ask silently. 'I have been conserving my strength to aid your recovery. The void energy that sought to consume the fire human infected you as well when you drew it out. It has been... taxing to help your body purge it.' I look around the room, realizing for the first time that we're in Raith's quarters. I've never been here before. It's sparse, utilitarian, with few personal touches beyond a small table with supplies for cleaning his blade, a few weathered books stacked neatly on a bedside table, and a faded tapestry hanging on one wall. The tapestry catches my eye-a scene of mountains and forests in shades of red and gold. It looks old, and somehow out of place in the otherwise austere room. Most different of all is the brick making up the water. Instead of the cool blues of my quarters in the water tower, his are dark gray with glowing veins of orange and red at the seams. The whole place smells faintly of smoke, reminding me of camping trips I used to take with my brothers back in Saltcrest. 'Why am I here?' I ask. 'Why not the healer's?' Raith's jaw tightens. 'After what happened with the siphon, I didn't trust anyone else to watch over you. And we couldn't exactly explain why you're in your current condition, could we?' The memory of the siphon sends a shudder through me. The way it had taken Raith's form so perfectly, how it had known exactly where to find me. How it had spoken of using me as bait. 'Voss,' I murmur. 'He saved us, but then he just... left.' 'He did,' Raith agrees, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp. 'I've heard the Empire Council is trying to remove him as Rector.' There's something he's not saying, questions he's holding back. I can sense it in the tension of his shoulders, the careful way he's watching me. The door opens and Mireen slips into the room, carrying a tray with steaming bowls. Her eyes widen when she sees me awake, her face breaking into a radiant smile that makes my chest ache with affection. Her copper-red hair is braided and pulled back and her blue eyes threaten to water at the sight of me. 'Nessa!' She rushes to the bedside, nearly spilling the soup in her haste. 'Thank the gods! We've been so worried.' "Hold-" Raith says, lifting his palm and stopping her. "Password?" Mireen gives him an annoyed look, but answers. "Fish slap." Raith shifts sideways, letting her move to my beside. "Can't be too careful," she says with a shrug. "How are you?" I stare up at her, confusion furrowing my brow. 'Raith... told you? And you said 'we'. Did he tell Beck and Ambrose, too?' 'We didn't give him a choice," Mireen confirms. "Beck and Ambrose are outside keeping watch,' she explains, setting down the tray. 'We've been taking shifts with Raith. Making sure no one suspicious gets too close.' She brushes a strand of hair from my face with a gentleness that seems at odds with her usual boisterous nature. 'Even Bastian comes by every so often, though Raith won't let him in.' My heart swells at the thought of my friends standing guard. 'You didn't have to⁠-' 'Of course we did,' Mireen interrupts, her typical smile replaced by unusual seriousness. 'There's a siphon loose in Confluence, Nessa. One that specifically targeted you and Raith.' I take her words in stride before realization stabs at me. She knows about the siphon. That means Raith had to have told her... I glance at Raith, who remains expressionless. 'How much did you tell them?' Raith hesitates. 'I was... not myself when I saw the state you were in.' 'He was so worried about you,' Mireen cuts in, a gleam in her eye that I recognize all too well. 'I do feel a little bad for taking advantage of his state. But we may have pressed him for information a little... forcefully.' I frown. 'What the hells does that mean?' Raith runs a hand through his disheveled hair. 'If there was a chance of telling them saving you, it was one I wanted to take. So I told them what I knew about you. All of it. You can be pissed if you want, but at least you're alive.' My stomach clenches, a cold dread spreading through me. I look to Mireen, expecting betrayal or anger on her face, but all I see is sympathy and hurt. 'You should have told us, Nessa. We could've been supporting you. Unbound? Siphons hunting you? Private lessons with Voss?' She shakes her head. 'Gods, girl. I don't know how you kept it all to yourself.' I sink deeper into the bed, guilt washing over me. 'I worried all of it would drag you guys into my mess. I didn't want any of you hurt because of me.' Mireen finally lowers her eyes and chews a corner of her lip, as if choosing her words carefully. 'It did sting to know how much you hid from us. But only because we're your friends, Nessa. You should have known we'd want to take on that burden if it meant being able to help you more.' She takes my hand, squeezing it gently. 'So don't ever feel like you need to hide things to keep us safe again, okay? We're stronger together.' Her voice is adorably stern, even though she's stroking my hand reassuringly and leaning over me like a worried mother. Cool, refreshing waves of her water essence flow through the touch. She looks at our hands, eyebrows twitching up. "So that's what the feeling always is when we touch. You know, I used to get offended that you never would let me hug you and flinched away when I tried to touch you. Now I get it." 'I'm sorry.' The words feel inadequate compared to the weight of what I've kept from them. 'Good. You should be. So... you can even heal scars, it seems?' Mireen wiggle her eyebrows and jerks her head toward Raith, the tension breaking as she returns to her usual teasing self. 'I'm pretty sure he was already the hottest guy on campus. Now it's not even fair.' Raith looks away, clearly uncomfortable. 'Oh, I didn't want to offend you,' Mireen says quickly, half-reaching for him and then seeming to think better of it. 'It's just... you definitely pulled off the scars. Obviously. But they're more subtle, now. You get the badass and rugged vibe without so much of your face being hidden. It's... nice." Beck slips into the room as Mireen is talking, his large frame filling the doorway before he moves to stand beside her. 'Mireen's right, Nessa. Put his scars back. Give the rest of us a chance.' He's trying for humor, but I can see the genuine relief in his eyes when he looks at me. He's been worried. They all have. Raith ignores Beck's comment. 'Bastian has been by three times. He is asking a lot of questions. Questions about the siphons.' 'Raith sends him away with a few harsh words every time.' Beck grins, dropping into a chair beside the bed. 'It's quite impressive, actually. Very dramatic. At one point I thought they were going to fight. Both had their elementals out and everything.' 'And Bastian listened?' I ask, mildly surprised. Legacy students rarely take orders from anyone but instructors and other legacies. And Bastian isn't just any legacy, I've learned. He's heavily favored among them, partly because of his father's status. Mireen shrugs. 'Reluctantly. I got the impression he was leaving more for your benefit than Raith's. He might be the only first-year who isn't terrified of you, Raith.' Raith's eyes narrow slightly. 'He should be.' The suspicion in his voice is clear. I share it, but I'm not ready to voice my concerns about Bastian. Not yet. I may not completely trust him or understand his end goals, but I at least feel confident he's not out to kill me. Here at Confluence, that's saying a lot about a person. 'I need to sit up,' I say, struggling against the heaviness in my limbs. The short conversation has already drained more of my strength than I expected, but I'm itching to be back on my feet again. Moving. Proving to everyone they can stop worrying about me. This time, Raith helps me, his hand warm against my back as he arranges pillows behind me. The brief contact sends a strange pulse through me-not just the usual heat I feel when we touch, but something deeper, like an echo of his own strength flowing into me. And with it comes a fleeting impression-a fragment of thought that isn't mine. Cannot lose her... The thought vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving me wondering if I imagined it. The tether. I'd almost forgotten about what I'd done to save him. 'It holds,' Typhon confirms, materializing at the foot of the bed in a smaller form than I've ever seen him take. He's barely the size of a house cat, his scales dulled to a muted blue. 'Though it remains fragile. One-way tethers are not meant to endure long.' 'You look terrible,' I say silently, concern washing through me at his diminished state. 'Your flattery knows no bounds,' he replies dryly. 'I have expended significant energy helping your body purge the void contamination. It would have consumed you otherwise, much as it nearly did the fire human.' "You'll get back your normal size?" "Yes. In just a few days. I'm merely lending my essence to you. It's different than the way it disperses when we're wounded or even killed. It won't take me very long to call it back into my core once you've stopped sucking it from me like a babe at her mother's tit." 'Will it fade?' I ask, meaning the tether. 'The connection to Raith?' 'Eventually. Unless strengthened by mutual oath. I'll confess this is one area I have limited knowledge. I've never tethered to an unbound before, nor do I know any elementals who have and still retain their sanity.' I look at Raith, wondering if he can sense the connection between us. If he can feel me the way I'm beginning to feel him-a quiet presence at the edge of my awareness. Can he hear my thoughts? Feel my emotions? The idea is both thrilling and terrifying. 'You should eat,' Mireen says, holding out a bowl of broth. 'You need your strength back.' I accept the bowl gratefully, realizing how hungry I am. The broth is simple but hearty, warming me from the inside as I sip it slowly. The first spoonful sends a shock of pleasure through my system, my body craving the nourishment after days of nothing. 'The Crucible is in a few days,' I say between spoonfuls, doing the mental calculation. 'I can't afford to be laid up like this.' 'The Crucible should be the least of your concerns right now,' Raith says sharply. 'You nearly died, Nessa.' 'So did you,' I counter, meeting his gaze directly. 'But we survived, and now we need to be ready for whatever comes next. The siphon admitted it was only using me as bait. It was targeting you specifically, Raith. We need to figure out why.' Mireen looks between us, her gaze calculating. 'I'll let the others know you're awake,' she says finally, standing. 'They'll want to see you. Even Brunhild. And Ambrose has been theorizing non-stop about unbound abilities since he found out. It's driving Beck insane.' 'Truly,' Beck agrees, pushing himself up from the chair. 'He's like a dog with a bone. You'd think he'd discovered a new element the way he's going on about it.' After they leave, a heavy silence falls between Raith and me. There are too many things unsaid, too many questions neither of us seems ready to ask. The room feels smaller somehow, more intimate with just the two of us alone again. I'm acutely aware of his presence, of the way the candlelight plays across his features, softening the usually harsh lines of his face. With his scars faded, he looks the same, but different. Though I wouldn't have imagined it possible, he's even more handsome than before, as Mireen so bluntly pointed out. In a way, it feels like I'm seeing behind the shields he so carefully maintains. It's like I'm seeing who he was before whatever happened that made him so... hard. 'Thank you,' he says finally. 'For what you did. For saving my life.' I meet his gaze. 'You would have done the same for me.' 'Yes,' he agrees without hesitation. 'I would have.' Something shifts in the air between us, charged with possibility. The tether between us pulses, warm and alive, and for a moment I think he's going to move closer, maybe even... But before either of us can speak again, exhaustion crashes over me like a wave, and I feel myself sinking back toward darkness. I try to fight it, not wanting to break this moment between us, but my body refuses to cooperate. 'Rest,' Raith says, taking the half-empty bowl from my hands. His voice and his touch are heartbreakingly gentle. I can feel a pulse of something, too, like the ghost of an echo through our thin tether. If it's a hint of how he feels about me, then... gods. If that's how Raith feels, he's a fucking master at keeping it hidden. 'I'll be here when you wake,' he says. It's only moments before I slip back into sleep. I drift through a dream that feels too solid, too real to be just imagination. I'm looking through someone else's eyes, feeling someone else's emotions. Marble floors stretch before me. Tapestries hang from high ceilings, depicting battles and coronations. Everything is opulent, rich with history and significance. I know this place, even though I've never been here. The knowledge sits in my borrowed consciousness with comfortable familiarity. Home. I move through grand corridors, my steps light and quick. I'm smaller than I should be, younger. A child's perspective. The adults around me tower like giants, their faces indistinct except for the warmth in their eyes when they look down at me. 'Your Highness,' they murmur as I pass, bowing slightly. The title feels natural, expected. I acknowledge them with a child's imperious nod, mimicking the grave dignity I've seen in my father but unable to fully suppress the bounce in my step. I'm expected to behave like an adult, but I'm still so young. I round a corner and enter a sunlit room where a woman sits by a window, her back straight as she embroiders something with long, delicate fingers. She looks up as I enter, her face achingly beautiful, her smile gentle. 'There you are,' she says, setting aside her work. 'I was beginning to think you'd hidden away in the library again.' Mother. The word echoes with such love that it hurts. 'Father's coming home today,' I say in a voice that isn't mine-a boy's voice, high with youth and excitement. 'Yes, he is.' She stands, smoothing her elaborate gown. The fabric catches the light, so beautifully intricate and well-made it looks like art. I flicker between feeling like the boy and feeling like myself, watching behind the boy's eyes as the woman-the queen-takes the boy's hand and leads him through more corridors to a grand balcony overlooking a courtyard. Below, men on horseback are arriving, their armor glinting in the sun. At their head rides a tall figure with a golden crown, his beard streaked with the same auburn as the boy's hair. The king. But not just the king. He's my father. The boy's father. My perspective continues to shift, making my brain hurt with the effort of remembering who is who. Remembering me when it feels like I'm overwhelmed with the feelings and thoughts of the boy. 'Father!' I call, waving. He waves from the courtyard, but I notice something in his mannerisms that strikes me as odd. A stiffness. An edge to his smile that feels wrong. I push the thought from my mind, writing it off because I know he sometimes comes back from the front lines distant for a few days. The death and constant war takes a toll on him, though he tries not to show it around us. 'Will he come to see you?' I ask my mother. 'Soon. He'll want to say hello to your siblings first. Saving the best for last,' she adds with a wink and a smile. I smile back, thinking how beautiful she is. I bounce on my toes as I roam the room with the nervous energy of a small child. I want him to be proud that I waited here with Mother. I want him to see I had the patience not to rush through the castle to greet him first. So I wait, even as I feel something wrong in the air. It's a coldness. A kind of nothingness. It's not long before I hear a scream from down the hallway, high pitched and frantic. It's a scream unlike anything I've ever heard before. In that moment, I know it's my sister's voice, and I know the sound of that scream is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I wake with a scream of my own tearing from my throat, my body drenched in sweat. The sheets are tangled around me, restraining like hands trying to drag me back into the nightmare. Raith is there instantly, his hands on my shoulders, his eyes wide with alarm in the dim light of early dawn. 'Nessa! What is it? What's wrong?' I can't speak, can't breathe. The phantom pain of burning still courses through me, and beneath it, a grief so profound it threatens to drown me. 'A nightmare,' I gasp finally, trying to control my shaking. 'Just a nightmare.' But what if it was more? What if it was a memory? 'Was that a memory from someone you tethered in the past?' I ask Typhon. 'Hmm? Was what? I saw nothing.' 'I was in somebody else's mind. Seeing what they saw.' 'Ah... these things are possible, I suppose. It could have been. I will ask that you don't talk to me about what you saw. The memory of the ones I've lost... it's a wound I am not ready to revisit.' 'Of course. I understand.' I blink away the sleepiness, looking up at Raith's unscarred face. 'I think... I think I saw something from Typhon's past.' But even as the words leave my mouth, I wonder... Could those have been Raith's memories? There's a heavy silence for a moment before Raith's hand drifts to his throat, fingertips brushing the place that's still bruised from where the siphon touched him. 'What exactly did you do to save me?' he asks quietly, an edge to his voice I can't quite place. 'I'm not entirely sure,' I confess, pulling the blanket tighter around me. The predawn chill seeps through my underclothes, making me shiver. And then I realize I'm hardly wearing anything in front of Raith. With a jolt in my stomach, I tug the covers up over myself. He's just watching me intensely, though. Waiting... I clear my throat. 'I couldn't figure out how to heal you. And Typhon didn't think we had long to mess around. He said if I tethered to you, I'd be able to. So I made an oath to you, and it... worked.' 'You tethered to me? How's that even possible? And what kind of oath?' His voice is incredulous. I look away, suddenly embarrassed. The words had come from somewhere deep inside me in that desperate moment, pulled forth by instinct and desperation. 'Nothing binding. Just a promise to protect you like you've protected me. That your life is my life. That your fight is my fight.' He's silent for so long that I finally look back at him. His expression is unreadable, his eyes distant, as if seeing something far beyond the walls of this room. 'Raith?' He blinks, focusing on me again. 'That was dangerous,' he says, his voice tight. 'You don't understand what I'm fighting. You shouldn't have sworn that.' 'You were dying,' I remind him, a flare of annoyance cutting through my exhaustion. 'I didn't have time to think through the implications. I just knew I couldn't... well... lose you.' The impression of a smile touches his lips. 'I know the feeling.' He stands, putting distance between us. 'You should rest more. Your body is still recovering.' 'I've rested enough,' I argue, pushing back the covers even though I'm aware that I'm exposing myself again. My limbs feel stronger now, the heaviness lifting. The void corruption is leaving my system, replaced by a restless energy that demands movement. 'I need to move, to train.' And to put on my actual uniform again. But I admit I like the way Raith's eyes flash with heat as they fall to my chest and my hips. He likes what he sees. I don't just suspect it... I feel it. Through the tether. I can feel his arousal and attraction, the fuzzy impression of thoughts about how fucking perfect I am. How glad he is that I'm still alive. Still here. 'Nessa-' 'The Crucible is coming, Raith. And now we know there's at least one siphon in Confluence targeting us specifically. I can't afford to lie here any longer.' He looks like he might argue for a moment, but he finally sighs. 'One hour of light training,' he concedes. 'Then you rest again. You're still pale as death.' 'Who took off my clothes?' I ask, arching one eyebrow. Raith's eyes fall to my chest, and there's a clear hint of hunger in his eyes that sends an unwelcome rush of heat to my face. 'Mireen,' he says. 'You were burning up the first night. I asked her to do it.' 'I see. So am I going to spar with you in my underwear? Or could I borrow something of yours.' 'You'd be swimming in my uniforms.' "So underwear it is, then?" 'You're going to wear one of my uniforms. There's no way I'm sparring with you looking like that.' 'Like what?' 'Distracting,' he says without turning to face me as he digs through a dresser. He hands me a pair of black pants and a black tunic, both trimmed in silver. They're clean, but the ghost of his scent clings to them. Raith has his back turned, so I stand and slip into his uniform. Thankfully, the pants have a drawstring, so I'm able to pull them tight and keep them up. I roll up the hem several inches until it reaches my ankles. The shirt hangs off me like a pillow case, so I tuck it into the pants and roll the sleeves up as much as I can. 'Okay, you can look now.' Raith turns, and another one of those rare smiles touches his lips. 'Still fucking sexy. Of course she is.' The thoughts hit my mind softly, almost like a whisper. 'Uh... Typhon? Was that you?' 'Was what me? If you sensed the rumble in my stomach, I apologize. I was imagining a feast of your enemies.' 'Could I be hearing Raith's thoughts?' 'Perhaps. Your tether is weak, but it still exists.' 'You good?' Raith asks. I swallow hard, nodding. 'Good.' But I try to take a step forward and the room sways slightly around me. Raith is immediately at my side, his arm around my waist. 'Slowly,' he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. 'You've been unconscious for two days. Give your body time.' I nod, leaning into him as I find my balance. The tether between us pulses stronger with the physical contact, and I feel a rush of protectiveness from him that nearly takes my breath away. It's fierce, almost possessive, and tinged with something that feels dangerously like fear. 'He worries he cannot protect you,' Typhon observes, stretching his diminished form. 'The fire human has grown attached. This complicates matters.' 'You say that like it's a bad thing,' I reply silently. 'It is neither good nor bad. It simply is. But attachments make one vulnerable, and you cannot afford vulnerability. Not with siphons hunting you.' 'It felt a lot more like they were hunting him. Not me. Didn't you see how that void lion made no attempt to kill me when I tried to save Raith? It was only blocking my path.' 'I would rather they are trying to kill you. The possibility of siphons not wanting to hurt you is... troubling.' 'You're cute when you're this small, you know. I feel like you should be perching on my shoulder.' 'Don't get accustomed to it." Raith is still holding his arm around me, waiting patiently for me to find my balance as I mentally chat with Typhon. I wonder if he feels anything from me through the tether. Can he sense how my heart races when he's close, how my skin heats where he touches me? How the thought of him dying had driven me to create the tether in the first place? If he does, he gives no sign of it as he guides me toward the door. His face is composed, neutral, though his hand at my waist is gentle. Even if part of me wishes he'd let that hand slide lower, to touch me the way I know he wants to. The way I want him to. His hand inches slightly lower, almost as if triggered by my thought. I look up sharply at him and see confusion and... something else in his eyes. A sharp knock interrupts the moment. Raith tenses, moving slightly in front of me as he calls, 'Enter.' The door opens to reveal Bastian, immaculate as always in his black legacy uniform with silver and gold trim. His pale eyes widen slightly at the sight of me on my feet. 'Thorne,' he says with a polite nod. 'I'm glad to see you're recovering. The password is fish slap," Bastian says smoothly. Raith nods. 'As you can see, we're both fine. You can report back to your... people that there's no need for concern.' Bastian's gaze shifts to Raith. 'The Rector specifically requested to see Thorne once she was able. To discuss the incident.' I feel Raith stiffen beside me. 'She's not ready yet.' 'She's on her feet,' Bastian says, gesturing to me. I see the way his eyes linger on my oversized clothing. I wonder if he's assuming I'm wearing Raith's clothes because we slept together and not for more innocent reasons. 'And she still needs time. I'm not sending her to get interrogated by the Rector. Tell him to fuck off until she tells him she's up for it.' Bastian's expression doesn't show the slightest reaction. He's just silent for a few seconds, then nods. 'I'll say she's still in bed. Make sure you're not seen when you go wherever it is you two are going.' 'Thank you, Bastian," I say. Raith's grip tightens on my waist slightly, pulling me into his side protectively. Possessively. 'Anything else?' 'Thorne's friends asked me to tell you they'll be back this evening. They apparently had some matters to attend to in preparation for the Crucible.' 'Okay, thanks,' I say. Bastian hesitates. 'There's something I should tell you before the Crucible... something I'd rather not say in front of Hollow.' 'Fuck you,' Raith growls. 'It's okay. If you can trust me with it, you can trust Raith.' Bastian looks between us, his white eyes seeming to see far more than simple appearances. His nod is curt. 'Very well. The legacies have been instructed to stay out of the fight between aspirants during the Crucible. I wanted you to know you can't expect help from me. Our orders are very strict. We'll be standing guard of the objective, forbidden to stray far.' 'Orders from whom?' Raith asks. 'Somebody wants things to play out as they're going to play out this year. They don't want us stepping in and putting a stop to the bloodshed.' 'Like you would have.' Raith's tone is laced with cynicism. 'Actually, we already had plans to do exactly that,' Bastian says. 'Despite what you all think about legacies, we have no interest in seeing potential primals slaughter one another. We may be getting groomed for command, but positions of leadership are rather pointless without anyone to lead. No?' 'Right. So we're your fucking sheep. We're only allowed to die when it's under your command?' Raith asks. Bastian straightens, looking at me instead of Raith. 'Voss won't wait forever. I suggest you don't put it off for more than another day or two.' With that, he's gone, closing the door quietly behind him. Raith and I stand in silence for a moment. Then he says, 'You're not going to see Voss alone.' It's not a question, but I answer anyway. 'No, I'm not. But I do need to see him. He may know something about the siphon-about why it attacked us. Why it was targeting you specifically.' 'Yes,' Raith agrees, his voice hard. But there's something I feel through the tether. I can feel him holding back. Desperately clinging to yet another secret. I can also feel why he clings to it so desperately. He's still trying to protect me. I look up at him, studying his perfect, unfamiliar face. 'Let's train,' I say, moving toward the door, determined to rebuild my strength. 'We have a lot to prepare for.' More than he knows. More than either of us can imagine. The tether throbs between us like a promise-or a warning. And through it, so faint I almost miss it, comes another fragment. 'Cannot lose her. Not when I've only just found her.' It's another thought from Raith. I'm starting to feel the difference between his thoughts and Typhon's already. Typhon's voice comes to my mind clear and loud. Raith's are whispers on the wind. So faint and weak I have to strain to hear them. I can't say if it's because he hasn't sworn oaths to me, too, or just because the tether is still so new and fresh. But gods... what the hells have I done? I'm the one who swore oaths to him, so shouldn't he be hearing my thoughts and not the other way around? 'How do you know he's not hearing your thoughts, angry human?' I glance sidelong at Raith as we leave his quarters. Frowning, I try to form a clear, loud thought and aim it in his direction. For some reason, I don't have any confidence it's going to work, so the thought I send is... poorly chosen. 'You're the best thing about this place, Raith.' Raith's eyes cut to me suddenly and he stops moving. My heart stops as well. He cups my face with one hand, eyes seeming to devour me. 'I want to hear it from your lips.' 'W-what?' 'Say it out loud.' I swallow, cheeks burning as his fire flows through the place where he touches me, filling my body with delicious heat. 'You're the best thing about this place, Raith.' His thumb brushes the line of my jaw and he leans forward. 'Promise me something.' 'Okay,' I breathe. He hesitates, fingertips still brushing my skin as his molten gold eyes fill with a depth I can't comprehend. 'I've... lost people. Before I came here, I swore I wouldn't care like that again. If I let nobody in, they couldn't hurt me. But you didn't care, did you? You barged into my fucking heart uninvited, and now you're here.' He takes my hand and presses my palm to his chest, eyes never leaving mine. 'You're here, and I can't do a single fucking thing to stop it. So you will not let anything happen to yourself. You're going to live. You're going to thrive, or I'll never forgive you.' His pulse pounds through my palm, racing like he's in the middle of a sparring match. I feel like I can't breathe as I process his words. All I can do is nod, the faintest smile playing at my lips. 'You're going to be mad at me if I die? Isn't that a strange threat?' 'Nessa. I'm serious. When I saw you in my bed these past few days, all I've been able to think about is what I'd do if I lost you. And... it's not something I can stand to think about. You have to protect yourself. No matter what. I've already made sure your friends understand.' 'Wait... what does that mean?' 'I warned them I'd hold them responsible if anything happened to you.' 'Raith. You can't threaten my friends.' 'I already did.' 'I like him,' Typhon rumbles in my mind. 'Not now, Typhon.' I'm about to continue the argument, but Raith leans in and kisses me. His lips are firm against mine, nothing hesitant in the way he claims my mouth. Unlike our previous kisses, there's an urgency here, a desperation that makes my knees weak. I press closer, my hands finding his shoulders for balance as liquid heat floods through me. The kiss deepens, but I can feel the rigid control he's maintaining-holding back, mindful of my weakened state even as his hands frame my face with a possessiveness that makes my pulse race. His heartbeat thunders through the tether between us, matching the frantic pace of my own. I even feel whispers of desire, arousal, relief, and excitement. I can hardly say which of those are my own emotions and which are his. 'This is all I've thought about since the last time,' he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough with barely contained desire. 'What took you so long?' I breathe, my fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone. 'You know exactly why.' And I do. He's been protecting me-from himself, from his secrets, from whatever darkness haunts him. But now that I've tethered myself to him, those barriers are crumbling, piece by piece. 'This doesn't mean I'm not still angry about you threatening my friends,' I say, even as I lean into his touch. His lips quirk in the ghost of a smile. 'Angry is fine. As long as you're alive.' 'And this doesn't solve anything,' I add, my tone serious now. 'There's still a siphon hunting you. And... maybe I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, either. So you had better make sure you stay alive, too.' 'That's the plan. I can't keep you alive if I'm dead. I can't protect my fires if I'm dead.' 'Forget about that. I don't want anything to happen to you. Not because I'm worried I'll lose a protector. Because I'd be losing you. I'm sure the fires feel the same way.' I sigh, reluctantly putting a few inches of space between us. My body protests the distance, craving the warmth and strength I felt in his arms, but my mind knows we need to focus. 'One hour of training,' I remind him, steadying myself. 'Then I'll get some more rest.' Despite my words, rest is the last thing on my mind. Training, too. I'm thinking about the kiss and the fragments of what I felt through the tether. I want him in bed with me. I want him stripping off my clothes. I want him touching me like I'm not fragile or about to break. Gods. I want him. So. Fucking. Badly. Raith's lips curve upward. 'You may need to find a way to keep your thoughts quieter if we're going to be tethered... I may have picked up on some of that.' 'Oh gods,' I say, covering my face with both hands as my cheeks burn yet again. Through our tether, I sense his restraint, his desire carefully banked like embers waiting to ignite. 'For the sake of all that is elemental, just mate with the fire human and be done with it,' Typhon grumbles in my mind. 'The tension between you two is giving me a headache.' 'It's not just about sex, Typhon. Sometimes, sex is just the cherry on top.' There's a moment of silence, and then, surprisingly: 'I've seen many bonds in my time, angry human. Few as... intriguing as this one.' He sounds almost uncomfortable with the admission, quickly adding, 'Not that I care one way or another about your mating habits. Your mortal attachments are fleeting and mostly ridiculous.' But I catch it-that rare glimpse of genuine interest beneath his usual arrogance. It's gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving me wondering if I imagined it. I glance at Raith, at the rigid set of his shoulders and the intensity in his eyes as we walk. Whatever this is between us-whatever it's becoming-it's far more dangerous and far more precious than either of us realized. 'When you're recovered,' Raith says suddenly, his voice low enough that only I can hear. 'When you're back at full strength...' He pauses, his eyes meeting mine with a heat that sends electricity down my spine. 'I want you in my bed again, but not for healing.' The bluntness of his words makes my breath catch, a flush spreading across my cheeks that has nothing to do with the void corruption still leaving my system. 'Is that a promise?' I ask, matching his boldness despite the hammering of my heart. His answering smile is slow and absolutely delicious.