"Why? Why does the air child care about your welfare? I don't trust him. I'll eat him and his horse. Simply give me the word, angry human."

"What do you suggest I do?" I ask Bastian. "Refuse the summons? That would only draw more attention."

"Go," Bastian says. "But be careful what you reveal. Voss is... persuasive. People tend to tell him more than they intend."

"He's being deliberately vague," Raith says, his voice edged with frustration. "Either tell us what you know or stop wasting our time with cryptic warnings."

Bastian's composure cracks slightly. "I'm trying to help, Hollow. My father doesn't cast suspicion lightly. This meeting with the Rector could be incredibly dangerous for Nessa."

"I'll be careful," I promise Bastian. "Thank you for the warning."

He nods, rising to his feet. "Just... remember appearances can be deceiving. Voss is charming, intelligent, and utterly ruthless when it comes to achieving his goals." He hesitates, then adds, "If anything unusual happens, find me immediately."

After Bastian leaves, Raith and I sit in silence, the weight of his warning hanging between us.

"Do you trust him?" Raith finally asks.

"I don't know. But he's only telling me to be careful. I think I was going to do that either way."

Raith considers this, his scarred face thoughtful in the torchlight. "You're smart. Forget what Bastian says. Just follow your instincts. They've gotten you this far."

I smile at the compliments. Raith doesn't try, but he has a way of making me appreciate myself more. There's a no-nonsense way about him and a tendency to acknowledge strengths in others. He makes me believe his compliments when they come, and he never makes me question their intention. It’s easy to see why the fires practically worship him.

Serena is the only fire who seems to want him out of the way, but she knows she'll be torn to shreds if she makes a move against him and anyone discovers it. Like Malakai, I'm worried she's only waiting quietly for a rare moment of weakness—that she'll never stop watching and waiting.

I start gathering my books. "Thanks, Raith. I'll be careful. And I'll trust my instincts."

As I rise to leave, Raith catches my wrist. The contact sends a familiar rush of heat through me—partly his natural fire, partly something else entirely. My breath catches as his thumb traces a small circle on my pulse point.

"Be careful," he says, voice lower and rougher than before. "If anything feels wrong—anything at all—you get out of there. Promise me."

The power in his eyes makes my heart stutter. For all his gruffness, all his careful distance, there's something in the way he's looking at me now that makes my skin flush and my pulse race.

"I promise."

He releases my wrist slowly, his fingers trailing along my skin. "Remember. I'll be waiting somewhere nearby tomorrow. Just in case."

"I don't need a bodyguard, Raith."