"A distraction?" I step closer, close enough that I can feel his heat beckoning me like a siren's call. "Is that all I am to you?"

He growls—actually growls—and suddenly his hand is at the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. He doesn't pull me closer, doesn't push me away, just holds me there in that exquisite tension.

"You know damn well that's not all you are," he says, his voice a dangerous rumble that I feel more than hear.

His eyes lock with mine, and I see conflict raging there—desire and restraint, need and fear, all battling for dominance. His thumb brushes the sensitive skin behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Then what am I to you, Raith?" I challenge, my voice barely above a whisper.

"A risk," he answers, his grip tightening slightly. "A beautiful, tempting risk that I shouldn't be taking. For your sake and mine. I've told you I'm dangerous for you. More than you can understand."

"I'm not afraid."

"You should be." His gaze drops to my mouth again, hungry and hot. "You have no idea what I'm capable of—what you'd be walking into if you got tied up with me."

"Then show me," I breathe, leaning in, closing the distance between us until our lips are almost touching. "Because I don't think vague threats are going to be enough to stop me from wanting this. From wanting you."

For one breathless moment, I think he's going to kiss me again. I can feel his resistance crumbling, sense the moment he's about to give in.

Before he can respond, his eyes shift to something over my shoulder, his entire body tensing. His hand drops from my neck as he puts himself between me and whatever he's seen.

"What is it?" I whisper, my hand automatically falling to the practice rapier at my hip.

"I don't know," he mutters. "Something... wrong."

I follow his gaze but see nothing—just shadows gathering as twilight deepens across the courtyard. Yet I feel it too, a creeping coldness that has nothing to do with the winter air. A presence that raises the hair on my arms and sends a shiver down my spine.

"Typhon?"

"I sense it, angry human. Something that does not belong. Something... hungry."

"Is it what I think it is?"

"Perhaps. There is a void where there should be presence. A darkness that consumes light. I have felt such things before, long ago."

Raith's hand goes to his sword, the metal whispering against the scabbard as he draws it partially. "Stay behind me."

"I can fight," I remind him.

"I know." His voice softens slightly, even as his body remains tense and ready.

We stand frozen, watching the shadows, the moment of passion between us now replaced with shared vigilance. The presence feels like it's circling us, assessing, calculating.

"If it attacks, I will reveal myself," Typhon warns. "The consequences be damned."

"You can't. People will know."