The way his full lips curve so slightly I could almost imagine it is… confusing. My brain says this man is a threat. His words say he's a threat. The fact that he just choked me out and probably internally bruised me says he's a threat.

But there's a heat pulsing just beneath his surface that makes me understand how moths can be drawn to flames, even though getting close will spell their doom.

"Hmm," he says, voice little more than a low rumble.

And all he has to do is lift his eyes to mine.

Gods. That look feels like having his rough hands on my body—like something intimate in all the wrong ways. A promise and a threat wrapped together in burning amber.

Heat rushes to my face, and I hate my traitorous body for responding to him when I'm pretty sure he wouldn't think twice about killing me if it suited his purposes, no matter what he's trying to imply with that heated gaze. Frankly, my best guess is he just likes toying with his food before he delivers the death blow, and we're in the "play" stage.

I force a glare, hoping he feels all the venom I try to put into the look.

Instead, his attention falls to my lips, lingering there before lifting back to study me with renewed interest. "Angry. That's good. You'll need anger here if you plan to survive."

Then he walks away, rejoining the fire affinity section as if our exchange never happened, leaving me standing alone with too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

Bastian grips my arm as soon as Raith is gone, his touch cool compared to the lingering heat of Raith's fingers. Again, I feel that strange sensation of energy passing from his body to mine.

I need to find out what the hell that sensation means. Am I draining elemental power? It certainly seemed like it on the mat.

"What was that?" Bastian asks. "One minute, he had you pinned, then I looked away and you got out somehow. What happened?"

I shake my head, still struggling to process everything myself. "I... don't know."

He licks his lips, leaning closer and lowering his voice to ensure we're not overheard. "Whatever is going on... you need to be careful until we have a better idea of what you are."

We?

I can't decide if the way Bastian wants to take my problems on as his own is flattering or suspicious. He hardly knows me, yet speaks as though we're bound together in this. But I'm still trying to catch my breath, my thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, so I just nod, even though I have no fucking clue how to be careful with something I can't control—something I don't even understand.