I STAND IN front of Nick’s door for what feels like forever, but is probably only a few uncertain minutes.

I don’t know why I’m hesitating. He could just be sleeping. He should just be sleeping. And if that’s the case, I’ll just go home and sleep too. See him in the morning.

No, I know why I’m hesitating. It’s because it’s late, the Lodge is quiet, and he might not be sleeping—and being alone with him has started to feel… intense.

I gaze hopefully down the hall as if someone might appear and rescue me from the Schrödinger’s Cat of Conscious Boys scenario I find myself in, but it’s empty and unhelpful. The only signs of life on the floor are the scattered few glowing lamps on some of the teak console tables between residents’ doors.

On the other side of this door, Nick is recovering from yet another attack that could have killed him. That’s what I should focus on. That’s what I need to focus on.

I take a slow, deep breath and open his door, slipping inside and easing it closed behind me.

Nick is asleep on top of the comforter in loose clothing; flannel pants, a soft T-shirt. His arms lie straight down at his sides. The fine strands of his hair are partly matted on one side, partly strewn across the pillow like he’s just been blasted by a gust of wind. He’s flushed, too; each of his cheeks bears a slash of red.

I walk closer, my arms clutched tight across my middle.

He’s recovered from the broken ribs that William treated. His steady breaths say he’s out of danger and his lungs are fine, but the slight pull at the corners of his eyes says he could still be in pain. Did William give him something to make him sleep? I hope so.

I start to turn, to let him rest, but jump when Nick whispers behind me.

“Who’s creepy now?”

I turn back to the bed, where Nick has started to push himself up his pillow. He winces but waves me off when I move to help him. “I’m okay, just stiff.”

I look him over with a suspicious eye. “If I stay and talk to you, will William yell at me?”

Nick laughs, but the sound is cut short when his breath catches in pain. “William will yell at us both, probably.” He rubs a hand over his chest and swallows thickly. Watching the motion sends my mind flying back to the arena.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I heard Sel say to the others that he thinks this attack was planned too. Not a coincidence. That the Shadowborn sent a creature that would be able to subdue you quickly and take you away.”