Page 36

"You're awake," Raith murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

"Mmm," I confirm, reluctant to move or speak and break the spell.

He doesn't withdraw his arm as I expected. Instead, his hold tightens slightly, drawing me closer. Through our tether, I catch a whisper of his contentment, a peace that feels foreign and precious to him.

Somehow—whether through the tether or some other intuition—I know touching him all night didn't drain him dry of his fire essence. Instead, we're like two bodies of water that have joined, finding equilibrium as we both hold equal amounts. I think I could draw more from him if I sort of... pulled, but it's comforting to know I can touch him as much as I want without making him run completely dry.

"In time, you should be able to stop yourself from draining his energy entirely when you don’t wish it," Typhon says.

That would be nice, even though I've guiltily come to enjoy the feeling of his magical heat swirling and twisting inside my own body.

"Did you sleep?" I ask.

"Some." His breath stirs my hair. "Better than usual."

I smile into the pillow, oddly pleased that my presence has given him even a modicum of peace. "How long until we need to see Voss?"

"If you're feeling up for it, we could go as soon as you're up and ready," he says, and I feel a reluctance in him that mirrors my own.

With a sigh, I turn in his arms to face him, our noses almost touching on the narrow bed. This close, I can see the fan of dark lashes, the curve of lips that I've now tasted but still hunger for.

Heat flares in his eyes as they drop to my mouth, and his hand slides from my waist to my hip, fingers splaying possessively. The fire inside me answers his call, curling through my veins with scorching heat.

"Nessa," he says, my name a warning and a plea.

I lean forward, closing the scant distance between us. Our lips meet with no hesitation. No restraint. This kiss is hunger unleashed—teeth nipping at my lower lip, his tongue sweeping into my mouth when I gasp. I arch against him, my hands finding the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his shoulders.

Emotions flow between us, intensifying each sensation. His desire coils through me, mirroring and amplifying my own until I can't tell where mine ends and his begins.

His hand tangles in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss. My fingers find the hem of his shirt, seeking skin, trailing fire up his side. A low groan rumbles in his chest when my nails scrape lightly along his ribs.

"We should stop," he murmurs against my mouth, even as his hand slides beneath my tunic to trace patterns on the sensitive skin of my lower back.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I've wanted this for too long. When I finally have you, I don't want to fucking rush. I'm going to take my time."

The simple statement sends waves of magma beneath my skin. I bite my lip. "I guess I can't complain about that logic."

"Good." His lips trail down my neck, finding a pulse point that makes me gasp. "Voss," he reminds us both, his voice strained. "We need to get it over with."

I sigh, resting my forehead against his chest. "I know."

When he pulls away, the loss of his heat is physical pain. But there's a promise in his eyes that steals my breath—it's a guarantee that what we just started isn't even close to finished, and it won't be long before he has me how he wants.

"Focus, angry human," Typhon grumbles in my mind. "Your heat and pheromones are making it impossible to think. And we have much to consider before meeting with the Rector."

I throw a pillow in Typhon's direction, which he dodges with insulting ease. "Were you watching the whole time? Creep."

"I was not watching. I was attempting to rest while ignoring the mating display happening in my vicinity. It was most distracting."

"Does Pyrin drive you crazy by constantly talking in your head?" I ask Raith.

He chuckles. "No. Pyrin doesn't speak much. But he's fiercely protective of me. Always patrolling the area and inspecting situations for danger. He's... It's nice having him. I always heard stories, but I didn't realize how much I would appreciate my elemental as an individual."

I smile softly. "Yeah. Typhon is... interesting. But he's kind of accidentally hilarious, and he does care. He just also loves the sound of his own voice."

"Careful, angry human. I am listening."

"But," I add with a meaningful look toward the water dragon glaring at me from the corner of the room. He has doubled in size since yesterday, but is still far smaller than normal. "I know exactly what you mean. Having somebody in your corner no matter what... it's a good feeling. Especially for those of us who got used to doing things on our own."

Raith watches me for a long moment, then nods his head. "Yeah." He rises from the bed, stretching. The movement pulls his shirt taut across his shoulders, and I catch myself staring at the strip of skin revealed at his waist.

"I can feel you staring," he says without turning. "Keep looking at me like that, and I'm not going to be able to wait until we're done with Voss."

I let my eyes linger on the muscular, tanned strip of exposed skin a moment longer before dragging them away. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't looking at anything."

Raith eyes me over his shoulder, his expression amused. "Pyrin says you were definitely looking."

"I thought we were friends, Pyrin," I say, not knowing where to look to address the fire panther.

I rise too, my muscles complaining only slightly. The void corruption is almost completely gone from my body, along with the strange waves of cold it brings. My strength is returning rapidly, enough that I feel almost like myself again—though I know better than to say as much to Raith, who would insist on more rest regardless.

"How should we play this meeting with Voss?" I ask as we prepare for the day, my voice deliberately casual as if we're discussing the weather rather than a potential confrontation with the most powerful man at Confluence.

Raith pulls on a fresh uniform, his movements precise and efficient. I try and fail not to stare, especially when he strips down completely naked with his back to me.

Gods. Does the man have no shame? Then again, why would he when he has a body like that? It's carved perfection. Beautiful enough that it's impossible not to stare.

"We listen," he says as he pulls black uniform pants up long, toned and muscular legs. "We learn what we can. We give away nothing. And we leave at the first sign of trouble."

"And you're still planning to come with me? He might not let you in."

"He doesn't have a choice," Raith says flatly. "I'm not letting you face him alone. Not after how he abandoned us with the siphon."

I pull my hair back into a tight braid, thinking as I still sit on the edge of his bed. "But he did save us first.”

"We don't know what game he's playing, Nessa."

"If he wanted us dead, why intervene at all? Why not just let the siphon finish what it started?" I shake my head. "It doesn't make sense."

Raith tosses me my uniform—not his oversized clothes from yesterday, but my own, freshly laundered along with a pair of academy-issue women's underwear. "That’s what worries me. So we stay alert.”

I nod, quickly changing while Raith politely turns away. Part of me almost wants to feel his eyes on me as I slip out of my underwear and gather the fresh pair he supplied. But when I peek over my shoulder, he's standing like a statue with his back to me.

"He has more restraint than you. He's able to keep his eyes from your bared flesh."

"Yeah, well, I kind of wish he didn't. It's embarrassing how much he... gets to me."

"You could demand he lay his eyes upon your flesh. I have seen this tactic before and it was quite effective."

Ignoring Typhon, I pull on my underwear and uniform.

When I'm dressed, I move to where my weapons are stored, securing my practice rapier at my hip and checking that Raith's gift—the real dagger—is still safely hidden in my boot.

"I'm ready," I announce. Whatever Voss wants, whatever he knows, I feel prepared to face it with Raith at my side.

Raith studies me for a moment, then he steps forward, his hand cupping my face with unexpected gentleness. "The second he says or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, we're leaving. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I say, rolling my eyes but not pulling away from his touch.

His thumb brushes my cheekbone. "I'm serious, Nessa." He casually adjusts my uniform, fixing the pleats over the collar and giving the hem a tug. The way he fusses with my clothing to get it right feels far more intimate than it should, and I absolutely like it way more than I want to admit.

"I know," I say, my voice softening. "But I can handle myself."

"Yes, you can. You've proved it several times over and saved my ass twice now." His eyes hold mine. "But that doesn't mean you have to handle everything alone. And I happen to prefer you alive. So if I think you're in danger, I'm going to be there. You'll need to learn to deal with that."

My smile is small and I can barely meet his eyes as confusing, pleasant emotions twist inside me. "Okay," I say quietly.

I can feel something has shifted between us these past few days, a deepening of whatever this connection is growing into. It's more than attraction, more than the tether that links us. It's trust, hard-won and fragile, but real.

"We should go," I say, reluctant to break the moment but aware of time slipping away. As much as I want to keep hiding away in his room, I know the Crucible is still rushing toward us. I need to be ready, which means going back to regular life at the academy. And that… that starts with this meeting.

Raith nods, his hand falling away. He checks his own clothing in the mirror and scoops up his practice sword before moving to the door.

The walk to Voss's tower is tense, our conversation minimal. Without the distraction of each other's touch, the reality of what awaits us settles heavily on our shoulders. Students part before us in the corridors, their whispers following in our wake. I catch fragments—speculation about my absence, shock at Raith's partially healed face, theories about our obvious proximity to one another.

"What a spectacle they're making," Typhon observes, swimming through the air in his flying fish form, invisible to all eyes but mine. "They fear him, but they crave him too. And they wonder about you—the water with a weak elemental who somehow survived when others failed."

"They have no idea," I think back, watching as two first-year aspirants scurry out of our path.

"No," Typhon agrees. "And let us hope they never do."

Voss's tower feels more oppressive than ever as we ascend the winding staircase, past the portraits of former Rectors that seem to watch with knowing eyes. The narrow corridor at the top is empty, the ornate double doors to his office closed. Rather than knock, Raith simply pushes them open, his hand a steady pressure at the small of my back as he guides me inside.

The office is just as I remember—the massive desk, the shelves of books and artifacts, the wall of windows overlooking the grounds. Voss stands with his back to us, silver-streaked hair catching the morning light as he gazes out at Confluence spread below. He wears a tailored black robe, elegant but simple, power in its understatement.

"I see you brought company, Miss Thorne," he says without turning, his voice mild. "I admit, I was expecting you to come alone."

"I expect many things too," Raith says, his tone just as mild but with an edge beneath it. "Like the assurance that a siphon won't attack students under your protection. We all have our disappointments."

I realize something as Raith speaks. Some of the cockiness and cold confidence I've always sensed in him all makes more sense now that I know who he was. Who he is.

A prince who never was. Heir to a throne he never claimed. Lone survivor of a royal family. I want to ask him where he’s from. It must be one of the outlying islands, or I feel sure I would’ve heard of him before now. But his past is something I have to approach carefully and cautiously. It’s full of pain, and I don’t want to cause him any more hurt than he has already suffered.

Voss turns then, his pale eyes taking in Raith without surprise. "Mr. Hollow. You should be dead."

"I get that a lot."

"Yes, I imagine you do. Your survival speaks to the potency of Miss Thorne's healing abilities. Quite remarkable." Voss's gaze shifts to me, assessing. On the surface, he looks as calm and collected as ever. And yet... I sense something else behind his eyes. Something like desperation. Or maybe impatience? "How are you recovering, Nessa?"

"Well enough," I say, matching his careful neutrality. "Though I was hoping you wanted to talk to us about the siphon. Maybe to assure us we don't need to worry about it happening again."

"Perhaps you'd both care to sit? This may be a lengthy conversation."

He gestures to two chairs before his desk, waiting until we're seated before taking his own position opposite us. The deliberate courtesy doesn't escape me, nor does the fact that he's positioned himself with the light behind him, making his expressions harder to read.

"I'll be direct," Voss says, folding his hands before him. "I know more about the siphon situation than I've previously shared. I believe there could be more than one siphon within Confluence's walls. How many, though, I can't say for certain."

"And you're just now telling us this?" Raith's voice is dangerously quiet.

Voss raises an eyebrow. "I am telling you now, as a courtesy. There was no need for you to know before."

"No need—" Raith begins, but I place a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Why tell us at all?" I ask. "Why not the Empire Council? Or the instructors? Why us specifically?"

Voss studies me, his expression impossible to decipher. "Whoever else knows is irrelevant. I’m sharing this now because I believe you, Miss Thorne, could be the reason they're here."

The words land like ice in my veins. "No. It said it was only using me as bait to get to Raith."

"I didn't say they wanted you dead. You represent both a threat and an opportunity to them. They serve a master, one who has been hunting unbound for centuries for reasons we can only guess. Perhaps he wishes to gain allies, or perhaps he has other purposes.”

"How the hells would you know what Lorkan Grace is hunting?" Raith asks.

"I make it my business to know things, Mr. Hollow. For instance, I know that Malakai and his allies have acquired weapons they should not possess. I know that there are eyes within Confluence observing all that transpires, eyes belonging to forces that might wish you harm. And I know those eyes will be watching most keenly during the Crucible, representing a very real threat to Nessa's safety if she's forced to demonstrate her... abilities."

"Empire emissaries," I say. "We heard they're here to observe the Crucible."

A flash of surprise crosses Voss's features, so brief I almost miss it. "You're well-informed. Yes, the Empire Council has sent representatives—ostensibly to evaluate the school's performance and our methods."

He rises, moving to a cabinet beside his desk. From it, he removes a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid and three small glasses. "Would either of you care for a drink? Avernium Reserve. Quite rare these days ever since the trade blockade a few years back."

"No," Raith says firmly.

"Miss Thorne?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

Voss pours himself a measure, returning to his seat with the glass in hand. He doesn't drink, merely swirls the liquid, watching the light play through it.

"I have a proposal for you, Miss Thorne," he says after a moment. "One I believe will be of mutual benefit."

"I'm listening," I say carefully.

"There is a place, not far from Confluence, that I would like you to see. A place of significant historical importance, particularly for someone with your... unique heritage. I believe it may help you better understand your abilities, perhaps even enhance them. At this place, you could have the final answers you seek about what you are. No more mysteries. No more questions."

"And when exactly do you propose this field trip take place?" Raith asks before I can respond, his voice hard.

"Tomorrow," Voss says. "It should be before the Crucible, and we’ve run out of time to delay. I believe what Miss Thorne might learn there could prove invaluable during the trials to come."

"No," Raith says immediately. "Tomorrow is the last day we have to get ready before the Crucible. Nessa needs rest. She needs to prepare. She doesn't need to be traipsing through the woods with you on some mysterious errand."

Voss's eyes narrow slightly. "I wasn't aware Miss Thorne required your permission, Mr. Hollow. Just as I wasn't aware I needed the permission of a student to do as I'd like."

"Then consider yourself informed of this new information." Raith's voice cuts like a thin blade, sharp and deadly. "She's not going anywhere when we have a Crucible to prepare for. End of discussion."

Voss's lip turns up at one corner. "Bold. I'll give you that much. But I'm afraid I must insist. This matter is quite time sensitive."

"Raith has a point," I say, careful to keep my tone measured. Raith may not be acting like it, but I'm keenly aware of who we're talking to. The Rector has the power to dismiss any student, effectively having them killed. I'm not eager to die so pointlessly after everything we've been through to make it this far. "Is this really the best time for... whatever this is? If I spend all day with you tomorrow, I'll be giving up my last chance to prepare, like Raith said."

Voss sets down his drink, leaning forward. "Miss Thorne, I have helped you understand and develop your abilities. I have protected you as best I can. I am asking for this one thing in return." Again, I sense the same impatience in his voice.

"Protected her?" Raith scoffs. "You left her to die after the siphon attack. How did you know more of those things weren't coming back? And I didn't see you during the elemental trial bailing her out. I didn't see you stopping people who wanted her dead from challenging her. You weren't in the lake when Malakai or that rogue elemental tried to kill her during the water trial."

"And yet she lives," he says coldly.

"No thanks to you," Raith's hand finds mine, squeezing once in silent support. Through our tether, I feel his anger, his protectiveness, but also his restraint—a willingness to ultimately let me handle this how I see fit. "She's alive because she's a fucking badass who doesn't need your help. So don't try to pretend she owes you this."

I feel a swell of pride to hear Raith talk about me like that, but I do my best to tamp it down and focus on what matters right now. I know Raith doesn't like the idea, but Voss makes it sound like it could be an opportunity to get stronger.

"What exactly would we be looking for at this... place?" I ask, genuinely curious despite my reservations.

Something shifts in Voss's expression—hope? Relief? "A ruin. One that dates back to the time when unbound were... more common. I believe it contains information—perhaps even artifacts—that could help you better understand and control your abilities."

"And what do you get out of this?" I press.

Voss smiles, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. "I’ll be frank, Miss Thorne. I need you to access these ruins. It’s why I would prefer we enter before the Crucible. Waiting could risk…”

Raith scoffs, shaking his head. “Un fucking believable. She’s just a key to you? So if she dies during the Crucible, you’ll be locked out of your precious ruins?”

“Wait…” I say. “Then help me. And I’ll help you. Find a way to make sure we survive the Crucible. If we live, I’ll go with you.”

A slow smile spreads across Voss’ mouth. “Clever, Miss Thorne. Very clever. There is… something I could do to improve the survival rate, perhaps. It will raise suspicions and draw the ire of the council, though. It won’t come without cost.”

I force myself to stay strong, voice firm. “If you want to make sure I’m alive to see those ruins, you’ll make sure everybody gets this protection in two days.

Disappointment flashes across Voss's face before his expression smooths. "Of course. Though I must emphasize how much less scrutiny there would be if we went tomorrow. What you’re asking will make it more difficult for me to travel freely for a time.”

"You have her answer," Raith says, rising from his seat. His hand finds the small of my back again, a gentle pressure guiding me to stand as well. "Is there anything else?"

Voss regards us for a long moment. "I suppose not. You’ve struck your bargain. There is a protective measure usually only granted to legacies… I believe I can extend it to all students this year without too much scrutiny. But remember what you’ve sworn here. Survive the Crucible, and you’ll help me enter the ruins. Yes?”

I nod my head, uneasiness swirling through my body. It feels like a victory, but somehow, I worry I’m not seeing everything.

Voss rises from his chair, moving around the desk to stand before us.

As we turn to leave, he calls after us. "Oh, and Miss Thorne? I wish you luck during the Crucible. I won’t be able to offer you complete safety. Only a slight improvement on your odds. So do prepare with diligence, hm?”

I nod once in acknowledgment before following Raith out, feeling Voss's gaze on my back all the way to the door.

We don't speak until we've descended the tower and found a secluded alcove away from curious ears. Typhon materializes fully, his diminished form hovering between us with evident agitation.

"I do not trust him," Typhon declares.

Raith's expression is grim. "I don’t like it. There's no way in hell you're going with him to some mysterious ruin in the middle of nowhere."

"I need to do this. It might mean more information about who or what I am. It might teach me more about how to control my powers." I push off the wall, pacing the small space. "If there's even a chance?—"

"At what cost?" Raith asks quietly.

The question brings me up short. It makes me feel reckless for even considering this.

"I don't know," I admit finally. “But agreeing to go with him might have just saved countless lives. Isn’t that worth the risk?”

Raith leans his forehead against mine, eyes closed. He shakes his head slightly. “It should be. But it doesn’t feel worth it. Not to me. I wouldn’t trade you for a thousand lives, even if that makes me an asshole.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” I say, biting the corner of my lip. “But it’s not as if Voss is a primal. He doesn’t know I have Typhon. If he thinks he can ambush me somehow or coerce me, Typhon will be there to protect me.”

“And so will I,” Raith says. “I’m following. Wherever he plans to take you.”

"We should talk to Bastian. He seemed to know something about Voss, or at least, his father does. Maybe he could give us an idea about what we’re walking into."

Raith's jaw tightens at the mention of Bastian, but he nods. "Fine. But not alone."

"Not alone," I agree, offering a small smile. "I'm starting to think you just like being around me, Hollow."

His expression softens, and he tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Maybe I do, Thorne."

Heat blooms in my chest at the gesture, at the warmth in his eyes. We stand there for a moment, suspended in a sphere of connection that feels increasingly like home.

"If you two are quite finished," Typhon interrupts, his tone dry, "perhaps we might consider strategizing for the Crucible? Given that it is rapidly approaching and will likely involve numerous attempts on our lives?"

I laugh despite myself, the tension of the meeting with Voss dissipating slightly. "We'll see if Bastian is willing to tell us anything. Then we should find the others, see what they've discovered about those weapons."

As we leave the alcove, I can't shake the feeling that we're standing on the edge of something momentous, something that will change us all irrevocably. The Crucible, Voss's mysterious ruin, the siphons' interest in us—all threads in a tapestry still with no full picture in sight.

But with Raith's steady presence beside me, with our tether pulsing between us like a promise, I find I'm not afraid. I feel strong. I feel capable. And I feel ready to face whatever is coming.