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I know the Rector himself isn't likely about to murder me as soon as I step into his office. The knowledge doesn’t stop dread from coiling around my spine like a serpent, tightening with every step I take toward the meeting.

"If he is a fool, he can try to harm you. I will simply eat him,” Typhon notes as he glides through the air beside me in his ridiculous fish form, butterfly-like wings flapping rapidly. He didn't even make me beg him to take the form this time, and I'm grateful for it, even if I know he's hiding himself from others.

The Rector's office lies atop a winding spiral staircase in a seldom used section of the castle. As I climb, I notice the paintings lining the stairwell—frame after frame depicting former Rectors of Confluence, I assume. They're all sitting in the same office, even if the furniture changes from painting to painting.

By the time I reach the top of the stairs, my heart is pounding, and it's not from exertion. Daily training here has me fit enough to jog up these stairs without losing my breath.

I drum a nervous pattern on my thighs as I walk the simple hallway lined with stained glass windows. A single door waits. The door to his office, just where I was told I’d find it.

No guards. No staff. No sign of Raith, either, even though I know that doesn't mean he isn't close. For such a large man, he can draw less notice than a shadow when he wants.

Somewhere nearby, he'll be watching. Waiting. I haven't caught so much as a glimpse of him since I left my room, but the thought of him standing vigil calms my racing heart. It’s a whispered promise from the darkness I shouldn’t need or want, but it’s there all the same.

The stone hallway feels too narrow, the air too thin, and every step brings me closer to what I'm starting to think might be a death sentence.

"This human has power," Typhon warns as we reach the ornate double doors leading to the Rector's chambers. "I sensed it during the ceremony. I sense it now, even through these walls. Be on your guard, angry human."

"He's not a primal, though."

"And yet I sense his power.”

Wonderful. Even more reason to be scared shitless.

I close my eyes with my handle on the door to his office, say a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening.

I lift my hand to knock, but the doors swing open before my knuckles make contact.

"Miss Thorne," Rector Voss says, standing in the doorway with a pleasant smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Right on time. Please, come in."

I step into his office, immediately struck by how different it is from what I'd expected. No oppressive darkness, no instruments of torture, no intimidating displays of power. Instead, the circular room is filled with warm light from dozens of candles. Bookshelves line the walls, interspersed with maps of Empire and curious artifacts displayed in glass cases. A massive desk of polished wood dominates the center, its surface neat and organized.

Voss himself looks just as he did during the tethering ceremony—tall, imposing, yet somehow approachable in his perfectly tailored black robes. His hair is still that striking black with distinctive silver streaks framing his face, and his eyes—a light, nearly colorless gray—study me with unsettling intensity.

"Please, sit," he says, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.

I take the admittedly comfortable chair, lowering myself slowly in case there are hidden spikes or spears in the cushions.

There aren't.

His lips flick to the side with the faintest smile. "You're right to be cautious. Caution is good here. And I know your survival as an offering depended on it. But I assure you, you're safe here."

The simple words feel surprisingly true to me. It helps to know Typhon is right beside me—to know he would do anything to protect me. "Okay," I say.

"Good," Voss threads his fingers together, leaning toward me on the desk. "Now… I think the best way to handle this is to come out and say it. You're unbound—" he raises a hand, eyes calm and unthreatening. "No need to run. No need to panic. I meant it when I said you're safe here. I only intend to help you."

My mouth has gone dry and my heartbeat thunders in my ears like a thousand tiny needles pricking at my consciousness. My fingertips dig into the armrests of the chair so hard I hear the leather creak.

"For one who knows the signs, it's quite obvious, Nessa. Nobody betrayed you. Nobody shared your secret with me, assuming some knew."

I blink. "Signs?" it's the only word I manage as my words crystallize into frost on my tongue.

"If he tries anything, I will end him," Typhon promises.

"People and elementals aren't so different, you know…"

"How so?" I ask when it's clear he's waiting for me to continue—gently forcing me to participate in whatever this is.

"Paranoia. Fear. Distrust. It runs deep in both races. They both feared what your kind could become. See… there was once a powerful unbound who discovered the true potential of your affinity. When they saw what he was capable of, they lashed out. They hunted your kind down to the last. Elementals and humans worked together to exterminate the unbound. There was no mercy. No quarter. And as far as we know, they succeeded. But I’ve been searching for your kind for quite some time now. Fruitlessly, until today."

I lick my lips tasting fear and curiosity in equal measure. "Why would you still be looking for unbound if they were supposed to be gone?”

"Because the proven bloodlines were destroyed, yes. But the nature of affinity is a natural thing. An evolution, if you like. It was only a matter of time before it manifested again. A phoenix from the ashes." he gestures with both hands toward me, his smile warm. "And look how you rise, Nessa Thorn."

"I'm not sure I understand…"

"That's alright. I only wanted you to come today to introduce myself and establish a line of trust. I know what you are, and I have no intentions of speaking with anyone about it. There are, as you've clearly intuited on your own, many who would see you dead if they knew. I don't want you dead. I want you to flourish, Nessa. I have access to texts that Empire itself doesn't know still exist. Call it a perk of my position. Since I was a young boy, I've taken a special interest in unbound. You could even say my fascination with your kind led me to taking this position at Confluence. And now, I'm happy to offer you all the help you could want in understanding your powers.”

Iick my lips, trying not to let it show, even as I feel hunger. Longing. The answers he’s promising. I want them so badly it hurts. Not just for my own survival, but to become strong enough to protect myself and the people I care about. “What can you tell me?” I ask, tone carefully neutral. I’m still not sure if this is some kind of trap. Some elaborate scheme to get me to admit more than I should.

He smiles, pleased to hear me asking questions, I assume. “Your manifestation. I could help you unlock it. I’m guessing you don’t know what that means.”

Thanks to Bastian’s book, I actually do, but I shake my head all the same. I’m not going to offer up more information than necessary. I’m also not going to implicate Bastian if this is all a trick.

“Unbound develop one or more special, unique abilities. These powers came in so many varieties it was truly remarkable. One of my favorite subjects was simply reading and learning about the special powers they held. Prophetic visions. Minor time reversal. Levitation, flight, the ability to shapeshift. And, of course… there were even some quite special powers that drew more than their fair share of misunderstanding. I dare say a few unbound are responsible for many of our myths and legends."

After a moment, he stands suddenly, gesturing for me to do the same.

"In any case, I deeply appreciate your time, Nessa. I know your schedule here is unforgiving. If you haven't gathered as much already, I am extending a formal offer to mentor you," Voss says, his voice somehow closer though he hasn't moved. "To help you discover your unique gift safely, where others can't witness and misconstrue."

"Why would you help me?" I ask.

"Because talent should be nurtured, not feared." His eyes catch the candlelight, reflecting it back like twin flames. "Because I believe you could become something extraordinary."

I want to believe him, with a yearning that hollows me from the inside out. He's offering me power and understanding. Here at Confluence, both of those things mean survival.

"I’ll make one suggestion," Voss adds, leaning closer. "Tell no one what you are. Not your friends, and especially not the fire affinity who watches you so closely."

Raith's face flashes in my mind, eyes burning with that intensity that makes my pulse flutter, and something inside me rebels against the command. He already knows. And some part of me also knows out of everybody here at Confluence, Raith might be the one I trust most—the one I'm most likely to confide in. "I?—"

"For your safety," Voss interrupts smoothly. "There are those who would destroy you simply for existing, Nessa. Your secret must remain between us until you're strong enough to protect yourself."

I find myself nodding. What he says does make sense. There's no reason to risk trusting others now. Not when I still have so much to learn. Not when it would be safer to wait until I can protect myself from those who would betray me. And it’s what I’ve already been doing for months, even if I’ve been getting closer to wanting to tell Mireen and the others. "I understand."

"Excellent." Voss smiles. "We'll begin your private training tomorrow evening. For now, you should rest."

He rises, signaling the end of our meeting. As I stand, my legs feel unsteady beneath me like my bones have turned to water.

"Remember," he says as he guides me toward the door with a hand on my shoulder, "not a word to anyone about what you are. About what we discussed. It's for your protection."

I nod again. Distantly, I recognize he's touching me and none of his power is flowing into me. If nothing else, it's a confirmation he's not a primal or the carrier of an affinity. It makes trusting him a little easier.

The moment I step into the hallway, the door closes behind me with a soft click.

I lean against the wall, drawing in deep breaths. My thoughts feel sluggish and syrupy, like the Rector just stuffed so much unexpected information in my head that I'm still struggling to process it. And after months of hiding what I am, the burden of secrecy has been partially lifted. Someone else knows—someone who wants to help, not hurt me.

"That was... unexpected," Typhon says carefully. "Are you well, angry human?"

"I'm fine," I murmur. "Just... surprised. I can't believe he wants to help me."

Before I can collect my scattered thoughts, movement in the shadows catches my eye. Raith steps forward, his scarred face tight with concern. He's leaning against the wall about twenty feet down the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, golden glowing eyes a predator’s in the dim light.

For a split second, I see something shockingly close to concern on his face. Concern for me. Worry. It's gone quickly, replaced by anger and his usual distrustful scowl. "What happened in there?"

I shake my head. Raith knows I'm an unbound. He knows parts, even if he doesn't know the whole story. Especially the parts about how dangerous I could become and how many would kill me for what I am. And yet…

The Rector's words ring in my mind. Tell no one.

"Nessa?" Raith steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him like standing beside a hearth—comforting and warm at a distance, but dangerous or even deadly if I drift too close. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I manage to say. "He just... wanted to talk about my progress."

Raith's eyes narrow, clearly sensing there's more. "And?"

"And... he's offering to mentor me. Private sessions."

Raith's jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath the scarred skin. "You're not telling me everything."

"I am," I insist. "That's all it was."

He studies me for a long moment, those amber eyes seeming to look right through me. "I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anyone," I counter, trying for lightness I don't feel.

"Not true." His voice drops lower, rougher. "I trust you."

Something twists in my chest at his words, a feeling so sharp and sudden it steals my breath leaving a hollow space beneath my breastbone that aches with possibility. I want to tell him everything—about Voss, about the reason I volunteered months ago in Saltcrest, about the fear that's been my constant companion since discovering what I am. I try to form the words, but they catch in my throat like fish bones. Nothing comes.

"I should go," I say instead, confused and suddenly exhausted. "It's been a long day."

Raith catches my wrist as I turn to leave, his touch sending a familiar current of heat up my arm awakening every dormant nerve ending in its path. Not just the natural warmth of his fire affinity, but something deeper, more unsettling. For a moment, I feel the pull of his power, the instinctive urge to draw it into myself.

"Nessa." His voice is barely above a whisper. "If you're in trouble, tell me."

I meet his eyes, seeing real concern there, and something else—something that makes my heart race for entirely different reasons.

"I'm fine," I say, genuinely believing it. "Just tired."

He releases me reluctantly, his fingers trailing along my skin. "Tell me when you're meeting him next. I'll be here. Just in case."

"You don't have to do that."

"You can tell me when you'll be here, or I'll simply make a point of following you around at all hours. One way or another, I’ll be here."

My lips curve up. "You're threatening to stalk me?"

"If that's what it takes."

"Why? Why have you been trying so hard to keep me alive? And don't tell me it's because I helped you in the elemental plane. You were protecting me before that."

Raith's face is an unreadable mask. It’s several long seconds before he finally answers. "There was somebody I used to know. Somebody who was a far better person than me. I failed to keep him alive when the time came, and I swore I would find a way to make it up to him."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"You remind me of him. In a way. There's a… light in you. Something that seems like it would go on burning even in a fucking rainstorm. That's how he was. Too good for this world, maybe. And I let it take him."

His eyes blaze with the memory, and my heart aches for him, his grief becoming mine for a moment, sharp as broken glass and twice as cutting.

"What was his name?" I ask, voice soft.

"Gareth."

He doesn't say more, but the silence seems to have a voice of its own with Raith. I feel a sudden certainty that Gareth and his death had something to do with the scars on Raith's body. Maybe Gareth is even the reason he's here at Confluence.

"I'll let you know before I come back here."

"Good. Now get back to your room, Nessa. I'm going to hang back and make sure he doesn't have you followed."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak again. It's not because I'm worried I'll talk about my what Voss told me, either. I'm afraid to speak because Raith finally let down his walls, even if it was only for an instant. And gods. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to be let inside his guard—to be closer to him.

Ever since that first day, I felt a confusing kind of connection to him. A pull.

And until recently, all I've ever sensed was him pushing me away from that force.

Tonight, he let me drift just a little bit closer, and I'm terrified by how much I want more of that feeling—that closeness.

I head down the stairs, noting Typhon's unusual quietness but figuring he's just grumpy after a day of posing as a flying fish.

Despite the confusion lingering at the edges of my mind, one thought remains clear in the swirl of emotions the last half hour brought: I've found an ally in the most unexpected place. Someone who understands what I am. Someone who can help me control my powers.

And all I have to do is keep it to myself.