The quiet of the evening seems to amplify each footfall as I walk back toward the dormitory with Beck, Brunhild, Mireen, and Ambrose. We've spent most of the day training until our muscles ached, then refining our strategy for the Crucible. We still don’t know what will be asked of us tomorrow, but we did our best to prepare as much as we could. I also slipped out for another private session, working with Typhon on fighting as a team and even riding on his back in an emergency.

Raith had to spend time drilling with his fires and the earths they've recruited. Apparently, they even absorbed a few airs to the cause. He was adamant that we work as a group of five and let him handle the management of other teams. From what I understand, there are four major groups among the first-years. The legacies, those with Malakai, those with us, and the few outliers who haven’t declared their allegiance.

I hate admitting that I've already been missing Raith after just one day apart. I know I shouldn't let myself feel so much for him, but I can't stop it. The fact that I can feel pulses of faint emotion and thoughts from him, even halfway across campus, certainly doesn't help. Especially when half of those emotions involve me and how much he wants to see me. How much he's worried about me. How desperately he wants to protect me.

"Get some sleep tonight," Mireen says, nudging my shoulder. "We need you sharp."

"I'll try," I reply, though I know it won't be easy to calm my mind.

Beck yawns, stretching his arms overhead. "I'm telling you, there's nothing to worry about. We've trained for this. We're as ready as we'll ever be."

Brunhild wraps her arm around Beck's broad shoulders, pulling him in for a sideways hug. "No one will touch my sexy bear. Brunhild and Dora the crab will make sure of it."

Ambrose wears a grim expression. "There are too many unknowns for my liking. Will the weapons we sabotaged really break when we need them to? Can we believe Serena that Empire won't be watching? Was the story about windborne true, or just something she told us to make us avoid killing Malakai's people?"

I frown. "That's all very comforting to hear on the eve of the Crucible, Ambrose."

He shrugs. "Akaron and I have gone over the possibilities at length. Wouldn't it make more sense to sacrifice the weapons to buy our trust? A small gesture to ensure we walk into the Crucible with faulty information? Information that all seems to imply we shouldn't fight back if attacked by Malakai's people?"

Mireen chews her lip. "You're just mentioning this all now?"

“It’s okay,” I say. "I think our safest assumption would be to discredit everything she told us if Typhon finds no magical interference. If it’s there, then we should assume the rest was true.”

The conversation continues as we approach the entrance to the water tower, but I find my attention drifting. The Crucible looms like a storm on the horizon, but so does the realization that I'm in way too deep with Raith. Three years ago, a storm of my own making took three people I loved from me. A storm I couldn't control.

I'm not the same person I was back then, and yet I feel just as out of control now. Just as in over my head. I know I shouldn't fall for Raith, but I'm doing it anyway. And I know the Crucible could mean the end of me and all the people I care about, but there's no avoiding it.

The air shifts as we enter the tower, making the fine hairs on my forearms stand on end.

Raith is there, waiting with his strong arms folded across his broad chest.

Mireen startles, hand flying to her chest. "Gods, Hollow, you need to stop doing that," she hisses. "You could just approach with a friendly 'hello' like a normal person."

Raith's gaze is fixed on me. "Hello."

"Password?" Ambrose asks.

"Thistlewood," Raith says, voice completely flat.

Beck sighs to my left. “You guys pick the most boring passwords. You should really put me back in charge of password creation.”

"Let me guess," I say, folding my arms across my chest. "You're here at the water tower because you’re going to stand guard outside my door all night like some kind of overly dramatic sentinel?"

The corner of his mouth lifts in what might almost be a smile. "Something like that."

Mireen glances between us, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You need sleep too, Hollow."

"I'm fine," he replies, his tone making it clear the subject isn't up for debate.

Beck clears his throat. "Right then. We should all probably get some rest. Big day tomorrow and all that."

"Rest?" Brunhild asks. "Sexy bear asked me to do thing he likes with tongue and dagger. I even brought the rope."

Beck's cheeks go red. "Uh. I'm not even going to try to make something up. Yeah. We're gonna go do some weird shit," He takes Brunhild's hand, leading her up the stairs.

"See you in the morning," Ambrose says, offering a mock salute before heading up the stairs as well.

Mireen gives me a lewd wiggle of her eyebrows, then leaves me alone in the corridor with Raith.

"Come on. You need to get to bed." Raith starts ahead of me, taking the stairs by two as if he's determined to travel in front in case some danger is waiting.

He's waits at the landing for me to catch up, hand resting on the hilt of his newly stolen military-grade sword that he wears across his back. He gives a jerk of his head, indicating he has deemed the empty hallway safe.

I roll my eyes but grin as I follow him toward my room. "You're not seriously planning to stand guard all night, are you?"

He shrugs. "I've gone longer without sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous." I grab his wrist and tug him toward my door. "You need rest as much as I do. Come inside."

“If I come in there, I’m pretty sure both of us are going to get a lot less sleep, Nessa.”

The dark promise of his words lights a thrill in my chest. I bite the corner of my lower lip, softly lifting my shoulders. “Is that a threat, Mr. Hollow?”

He steps closer, invading my space in the most delicious of ways. “Staying apart from you today was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done. All I want to do is touch you. Feel you again.” His voice drops several registers, nearly becoming a growl. “Be inside you.”

I swallow, suddenly unsteady on my feet. “Okay. I hear you, and I’m still insisting that you come in.”

For a moment, I think he might resist, but then he follows, closing the door quietly behind him. Neither of us speaks as I move to light a candle on my desk, the small flame casting soft shadows across the walls.

"So," I say finally, turning to face him. Part of me is curious if he’s planning to strip my clothes off and fuck me right away, or if he’s going to continue trying to fight it. Just to tease him, I casually pop a few buttons over my chest, eyes lingering on his. “You came to stand guard over my room. Was there something specific I should worry about? Or were you just feeling overprotective?”

His eyes linger on the place where my breasts meet and he pulls his lower lip between his teeth, eyes finally lifting to mine after a few long seconds. “Whispers,” he says. “Some have worries Malakai may strike against priority targets tonight. Remove threats before the Crucible to improve their odds.”

I frown as my thoughts immediately turn to my friends. "Did you tell Beck, Ambrose, and Mireen this? Are they safe?"

"Their names weren't mentioned as priority targets. Yours was. So I'm going to be here with you all night."

"Who else was a priority target besides me?"

Raith hesitates. "Me."

I can't help smiling, even though the idea of students plotting to kill me tonight shouldn't be something to smile about. "Anyone else?"

He shakes his head. "It was just us."

"So you're protecting me by making sure they can find both the people they want to kill in the same room? I thought you were supposed to be a military strategist, Raith."

I sense his frustration. "I'm not leaving you alone tonight. End of discussion."

"I wasn't asking you to. I just like hearing you try to justify it." I step toward the bed, turn my back, and then casually strip out of my clothes, making sure to bend very low and very long to unstrap my shoes. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my ass—the barely controlled temptation throbbing through him and the desire to put his hands on me, to take me.

To fuck me.

I finally steal a look over my shoulder. “Well? Are you going to come to bed with me, or stand in the corner like a gargoyle while I sleep?” I sit on the edge of the bed, crossing my thighs and patting the bed beside me.

He hesitates, then moves to sit, the mattress dipping under his weight. We sit in silence for a moment, the space between us charged with everything we aren't saying.

"I keep thinking about what Serena told us," I admit finally as I work on taking my hair from its braids. "About the magical blackout during the Crucible that'll keep the emissaries from watching. About the windborne. If she's telling the truth, I just don't understand it. Why would Empire sacrifice potential primals just to get rid of Voss?"

"It's not our concern."

"How can you say that? If Empire is sending assassins into a training exercise?—"

"Empire does what Empire needs to do," he cuts in, his voice low and controlled. "Our job is to survive. Nothing more."

I turn to face him, frustration building. "Is that really all you care about? Surviving?"

"Tomorrow, all I care about is you surviving."

The simplicity of his answer steals my breath. I shake my head. "That's not true. You care about Cade. The fires. They look up to you like a big brother."

"That's true. But..." He rakes a hand through his hair, jaw ticking with his barely controlled emotions. "Losing you? I… can’t. I just fucking can’t," Before I can respond, he stands and moves to the window, gazing out at the darkened campus.

"You should sleep," he says, his back to me. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

I would feel offended that he’s not currently taking my very obvious offer for sex, but I can feel what he’s feeling—shadows of it, at least. Desire. Temptation. Arousal. Yes, that’s all there as clear as day. But he also feels frustration with himself.

He’s frustrated that he let himself feel so much for me. That he opened himself to weakness. Nothing I say or do right now can change that. All I can do is resolve to be strong tomorrow. For myself. For my friends. For Raith. Because his words aren't empty. He really doesn't think he would survive if something happened to me.

I find myself lying down, pulling the blanket over my shoulders as I watch him silently standing vigil.

"You need rest too," I murmur, my eyes growing heavy despite my racing thoughts.

He turns slightly, his profile outlined against the moonlight. "I'll be fine."

"Raith," I whisper, "just come lie down. Please. It will help me sleep if you're here with me."

For a long moment, he doesn't move. Then, with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of worlds, he crosses the room and carefully stretches out beside me on the narrow bed. He remains above the blankets, rigid and tense as he stares at the ceiling.

"I won't break if you touch me, you know," I say, the words little more than a breath between us. "You certainly didn't worry about that the other night in the showers."

His eyes find mine in the darkness, a flicker of heat passing through them at the memory. "That was different."

"How so?" I challenge softly.

"It just... was," he says, but his arm slides beneath my shoulders all the same, drawing me against his side. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Tonight could be our last chance for a repeat," I murmur, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.

I feel his temptation like a slumbering beast trying to roar to life. Somehow, he manages to control it before he speaks. "I'm not going to be the reason you didn't get rest tonight, Nessa. Sleep."

I smile up at him, mischief playing across my face. "And if I sleep well, will you reward me in the morning?"

The slumbering beast of his desire flares bright. Raith's grip tightens on my bare shoulder. "Only one way to find out."

I can feel the careful restraint in his touch, the way he's holding himself back. With the warmth of his body seeping into mine and the comforting weight of his arm around me, sleep claims me more quickly than I expected, pulling me down into darkness.

* * *