"Why are you telling us this?" Mireen asks. "Before Confluence Day, you told me to fuck off when I asked about Malakai and who he was coming for."

Lissa sighs. "Yeah, I remember. But I also didn't know who the hell to trust at that point. Malakai has made it pretty clear he wants to kill you guys the most. Especially Nessa. So I'm pretty sure you're not with him. Anyway, I wanted to know if we can trust you during the Crucible. We're not going to try to win. We're just going to form a protective group and try like hell to stay alive. Maybe if Malakai and Serena see we're not a threat to the prize, they'll leave us alone."

“Nothing like death and the threat of dismemberment to bring former enemies together, huh?” Mireen muses.

"Cowards," Typhon notes.

"You don't have to worry about us," I say. "I can't promise we'll go along with your plan. But we’re not with them. If there’s a chance to help you and your team, we will.”

I'm relieved when my friends all nod their heads without hesitation.

"Thanks for letting us know, Lissa," I say. She nods and leaves, the door closing behind her with an ominous thud.

"We need more allies," Ambrose says immediately. "More than just Brunhild."

"There's Raith," I suggest, and immediately regret it when three pairs of eyes lock onto me with varying degrees of suspicion and amusement.

"Your scarred fire boyfriend?" Beck teases, but there's seriousness underneath it. "You're really sure he's trustworthy?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I mutter, ignoring the heat that rises to my cheeks. "And yes, I trust him."

"Why?" Mireen asks, and it's not an accusation, just a genuine question. "He's from the border, Nessa. A volunteer. And he's a fire." She lets out a breath. "I know they aren't all as bad as I thought at first, okay? It's just... hard for me to believe we can trust someone like that with our lives."

"I'm inclined to agree with Mireen," Ambrose says. "I know he's been helping you train, but beyond that—why do you trust him?"

I think of Raith's hands, strong and sure as he corrects my stance. The way he pushes me harder than anyone else because he seems to believe I'm capable of far more than I would ever dare. The tenderness that sometimes flashes through when he thinks I'm not looking.

"He's had plenty of chances to hurt me," I say finally. "He chose to help instead. That counts for something in this place. And he was the first one to show up when I walked into the trap with Malakai and Serena last week."

Ambrose nods slowly. "Logical. Though emotional attachments can cloud judgment."

"I'm not—" I begin, but Beck cuts me off with a snort.