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Despite her unease, Thalia found herself bristling at the other girl's tone."You don't strike me as someone concerned with my survival," she observed.

Senna shrugged one shoulder."Do you know why he's here, greenhorn?Why a Northern boy with natural talent for metalwork would be sent to Frostforge rather than a proper apprenticeship?"

Thalia remained silent, unwilling to admit her ignorance but unable to fabricate an answer.

Senna's lips curved into a genuine smile this time, satisfied by Thalia's silence."He spent five years in prison for killing his own father."

Thalia stared, unable to form a coherent response.Her mind replayed her interaction with Kaine — his quiet intensity, his knowledge of the forge, his careful movements.Nothing had suggested a murderer.

"That's not..."she started, then faltered.Not what?Not possible?Not relevant?She had no basis to deny it.

"Not what you expected?"Senna supplied, her smile widening.She shook her head, almost pitying."He beat his own father to death when he was sixteen.Used a hammer — not unlike the ones we were working with today."

Thalia's stomach twisted, hunger forgotten."Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I saw the way you looked at him," Senna said, her voice softening to something almost kind, though her eyes remained cold."That fascination.I've seen it before, in other girls.He has that effect — something about the intensity, the danger."Her expression hardened again."But he's a killer, plain and simple.”

Thalia thought of the way Kaine had watched her across the forge, the subtle nod of approval he'd given her work.Had she imagined the connection between them?Misread everything about their interaction?

"I appreciate the warning," she said finally, keeping her voice steady with effort."But I should join my friends for dinner."

Senna stepped aside, giving Thalia clear passage back to the main corridor."Of course," she said pleasantly, as if they'd been discussing nothing more significant than the weather."But remember what I said.Some mistakes at Frostforge can't be undone.Kaine Ember is one of them."

CHAPTER SEVEN

The last student had left the forge nearly an hour ago, yet Thalia couldn't bring herself to follow.She stood in the doorway of her dormitory, fingers tracing the rough grain of the wooden frame as she gazed down the torchlit corridor toward the metallurgy wing.The day's lessons had ended, but the pull of the forge remained — a persistent tug that whispered promises of discovery.Her roommates had settled in for the evening, Luna already nose-deep in a textbook, Ashe quietly sharpening a hunting knife.Neither of them looked up as Thalia slipped back out, her footsteps light against the stone floor as she made her decision.

After hours, Frostforge was a different creature entirely.The usual clamor of students had faded, leaving behind an eerie quiet punctuated only by the distant moan of wind against the academy's ancient walls.Thalia moved with purpose, staying close to the shadows that pooled in the corners of each corridor.Instructor Maven had made it abundantly clear that first-years were not permitted in the workshops without supervision, but the rules felt trivial compared to the questions burning in Thalia's mind.

The metallurgy wing was darker than the main halls, illuminated only by the faint glow emanating from beneath the heavy oak door of the forge.Thalia paused, listening for any signs of movement within.Silence.She pressed her palm against the door, feeling the warmth radiating through the wood before pushing it open.

Heat embraced her immediately — not the blistering intensity of a working forge, but the lingering warmth of dying embers, like the embrace of her mother's kitchen back in Verdant Port.The massive forge at the center of the room glowed a deep, sullen red, casting long shadows across the stone floor.Tools hung in precise arrangements on the walls, gleaming dully in the low light.The scent of hot metal and coal dust filled her lungs, oddly comforting despite its harshness.

Thalia moved deeper into the room, her fingers trailing over the worn surfaces of the workbenches.During class, these spaces had been crowded with students jostling for position, the air filled with the sound of hammers and bellows.Now, she had it all to herself—the rare luxury of solitude in an academy where privacy was scarce.

At the far end of the room, a smaller forge still burned with enough heat for her purposes.Thalia approached it cautiously, remembering Instructor Maven's stern warnings about the dangers of improper handling.She selected a pair of thick leather gloves from a nearby rack, the interior still warm from their previous user.They were too large for her hands, the fingers extending well past her own, but they would serve their purpose.

The tongs felt heavy and awkward in her grip as she used them to extract a small piece of iron from a container of raw materials.Her first day's lesson had been rudimentary—merely heating and cooling simple pieces to understand the metal's basic properties—but Thalia had sensed something more.A current, similar to what she'd felt in the herbs she'd handled in her mother's shop, but stronger, more defined.

She maneuvered the metal into the forge, watching as the dull gray began to transform, first to a deep cherry red, then to a bright, dangerous orange.Sweat beaded on her forehead, sliding down the curve of her cheek as she focused on the task.When the metal reached the proper temperature, she withdrew it carefully, transferring it to the anvil.

The hammer felt natural in her hand, its weight an extension of her arm rather than a burden.Thalia struck the metal tentatively at first, each impact sending a shower of sparks dancing across the anvil's surface.But as she continued, something shifted in her awareness.There it was again — that current of energy she'd sensed during class, but now, without the distraction of other students, she could focus on it properly.

It wasn't just heat flowing through the metal.It was magic, raw and untamed, coursing through the iron like blood through veins.Each strike of her hammer redirected the flow, concentrating it in some areas, dispersing it in others.Thalia paused, studying the half-formed shape before her.She hadn't been consciously trying to create anything specific, yet the metal had begun to take on the rough outline of a blade, similar to the one Kaine had been crafting during their lesson.

Kaine.The thought of him brought a strange flutter to her stomach.He'd barely spoken to her directly, yet she'd felt his eyes on her throughout the class, watching her work with an intensity that left her both unnerved and intrigued.

Pushing the thought aside, Thalia returned her attention to the metal.She struck again, focusing on the flow of energy through the material.With each blow, she began to understand that the shape wasn't merely aesthetic.It was functional, guiding the natural magic of the metal into specific channels.

"The Southern recruits never cease to surprise me."

The voice, deep and unexpected, sent Thalia's hammer clattering to the floor.She spun around, heart pounding in her chest, to find Kaine Ember leaning against a stone pillar.How long he'd been standing there, watching her work, she couldn't tell.

In the dim light of the forge, his features seemed even more severe — all sharp angles and shadows.His cropped dark hair absorbed the light rather than reflected it, and his pale blue eyes studied her with an unreadable expression.Unlike the other Northern students, who wore their disdain for Southerners openly, Kaine's face betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

"I — I was just..."Thalia began, suddenly aware that she was breaking at least three academy rules.

"Experimenting," he finished for her, pushing away from the pillar.He moved with the fluid grace of someone entirely comfortable in his own skin, approaching the anvil where her work lay cooling."Don't stop on my account."