He looks like he's about to turn to leave, so I reach instinctively and touch his arm. That familiar tendril of flame flows from him and into my fingertips, swirling inside me like a pleasant summer breeze.

"Raith… there's something Voss told me. We're all going to have to participate in some kind of Crucible. Like a final test before we graduate the year."

He says nothing, but something in his expression makes me think he already knows. Once again, it's another layer of mystery. Another secret.

Everything about him screams danger, yet somehow that only makes the pull toward him stronger like a moth to flame, knowing it will burn but unable to resist the light.

"You knew?" I ask.

His eyes fall. "The Crucible is a poorly kept secret in some circles. But yes. Groups of five. That means you, Mireen, Beck, and Ambrose will probably talk about recruiting a fifth. But don't do it."

"Why, because of the siphon? Don't you think that's a little paranoid? If this siphon has been on campus all year, they could've killed me a dozen times over by now."

"We can't pretend to understand why they're here. Unless we know the 'why', we can't assume you're safe from them."

I tilt my head. "All of this… following me around campus and lurking in the shadows. Helping me train weapons… Telling me about the siphon… is it all just because of what happened on Confluence Day? Am I really supposed to believe that?"

If eyes are windows to the soul, Raith's are blacked out and covered by thick curtains. He blinks, then grips my arm softly. "I would tell you more if I knew it wouldn’t put you in danger. I mean that," Raith says, his tone hard. "Malakai will come for your team during the Crucible. You can be sure of that." He speaks like it's a simple warning, but I can feel the concern beneath it.

And then he's gone, fading into the dark shadows of the corridor ahead and leaving me with the warmth of his power still swirling inside my body like embers nestled beneath my skin. That, and about a thousand questions.

Raith speaks with absolute certainty about things no former offering should know. Each revelation only deepens the questions of who he really is—and why he's chosen to share these secrets with me.

I should be terrified of all the things he won’t tell me.

Instead, as I watch his shadow disappear around the corner, I realize something that scares me far more than siphons or the coming Crucible.

I'm falling for him. I'm falling for someone who is desperately trying to tell me not to—to warn me that he's dangerous. I can try to grip tightly to those warnings like handholds, clinging to them like lifelines. But I'm still slipping toward the edge and toward the point of no return little by little.