Part of me wants to laugh the idea away, but I can't ignore the amount of fear in their voices as they spoke. I can't ignore the way my own mark seems to burn beneath my skin, as if responding to the words. Siphons are supposed to be monsters from children’s tales. Pure fantasy.

Raith’s expression hardens. In an instant, the vulnerability and openness brought on by his nightmares is gone. He's all hard lines and intensity again. Unreachable and unreadable. "You should go back to your room. It's not safe to wander at night."

"And yet you told me you've been wandering the castle at night since day one." I raise my eyebrows, surprised by my own boldness.

His full lips come the closest to a smile I've ever seen on him, and the sight is breathtaking—transforming his face into something almost unbearably beautiful. I forget to breathe for a moment, but the near-smile is gone as quickly as it came. "Nobody else here has the balls to tease me, let alone provoke me," he says.

"If you think you’d find balls between my legs, you’d be sorely disappointed.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Smooth, Nessa.

His eyes flick to mine, something dangerous flaring in them as he steps closer. "Trust me," he says, his voice dropping to a tone that slides over my skin like velvet, "disappointment is the last thing I'd feel."

The air between us charges with electricity, and I'm suddenly aware of how close we're standing, how the moonlight cuts across the sharp angles of his face. His gaze drops briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes, the intensity in them making my heart stutter.

Holy. Shit.

Fire explodes in my lower belly, unwelcome but not quite unpleasant. It spreads through my veins like wildfire, leaving me dizzy with a hunger I've never felt before. I'm hyperaware of him—his height, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his fingers curl around the stone railing. When did breathing become so difficult?

My brain scrambles, all thoughts of mysterious deaths and fairytale beasts forgotten. My mouth opens, and I can't seem to form a coherent thought in response. And the way my name sounded in his rough, deep voice? Gods. I could get used to that, even if I know Raith and everything he represents is not a good idea for me.

It's worse than "not a good idea." It's suicidal.

He's a fire. He's probably somebody Serena either wants, or, for all I know, already has. If he showed the slightest interest in me where she could see, I'd probably be dead before dawn.

Getting involved with Raith could literally get me killed in more ways than one, which is a fact I very much need my body to understand. Why, then, does every nerve ending in my body feel like it's been set alight at the mere suggestion of his touch?