Once Cade disappears around the corner, I turn to Raith. "Why are you helping him?"

"I'm teaching him to survive," Raith says. "Just like I'm teaching you."

“Considering we’ve kissed twice, I hope you’re not teaching him just like me,” I say with a half smile.

Raith’s face is hard, but his eyes fall. I want to say more, to ask him why he withdraws every time we get closer, but there’s something in his expression that stops me—a weariness that goes bone-deep.

"How many others are you protecting?" I ask instead.

He shrugs, avoiding my gaze. "A few."

"Why?"

"Because someone has to. Because I can."

We start walking, falling into step beside each other. I'm already late for channeling class, but suddenly that doesn't seem to matter much.

"Is your work training all these other people the reason you've been too busy to make time for me?" I ask after a moment of silence.

"That, and other things."

"What other things?"

He shoots me a sidelong glance. "Has anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?"

"It's been mentioned."

A reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and my heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when he lets his guard down, even for a moment.

"So?" I press. "What's kept you so busy that you couldn't spare an hour for training the other night?"

He sighs, slowing his pace. "Malakai is recruiting across affinities, building alliances. The earths you just met? They're just foot soldiers. He's got at least fifteen teams aligned with him now, maybe more."

"Fifteen?" My throat tightens. "That's⁠—"

"A small army," Raith finishes. "More than half the surviving first-years. And they're all coming for anyone who isn't with them."

"Including us." It's not a question.

"Especially us." He runs a hand over his face, the scars stark against his skin in the corridor's harsh light. "I've been trying to build alliances of our own. Talking to other fires, some airs who are on the fence. Even a few earths who haven't bought into Malakai's bullshit."

"That's why you've been missing training? You're building your own army?"

"Not an army. A safety net. People who will watch each other's backs during the Crucible." He gives me a pointed look. "People who will watch your back."

Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words. Despite all his talk about keeping me at a distance, he's still been working to protect me. He almost makes it sound as if all of his efforts are just to keep me safe. But the thought is ridiculous, and I dismiss it before it can take root.

"I can take care of myself, you know," I remind him, though there's no real heat in it.

"I know you can," he says, surprisingly serious. "But nobody survives Confluence alone, Nessa. Not even you. Especially not this year."