I sit up straighter as Raiden’s eyes land on me. His gaze flicks between us, lingering for a beat too long on me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
There’s something about the way he says it that sets my nerves buzzing.
“Yeah. Sure.” I push back from the table, trying to ignore the way Tamsin wiggles her eyebrows at me as I stand.
We slip away from the table, the noise of the dining hall fading behind us as we walk toward the greenhouse. Raiden walks a little too close, hands in his pockets like he’s trying not to look like he’s checking on me. And like we might do this all the time.
Spoiler: he is. And we don’t.
I glance sideways. “You’re really committing to this brooding trainer aesthetic.”
He doesn’t rise to the bait. Just shrugs. “You look like someone who’s had a hell of a first week.”
I snort. “Is that what we’re calling nearly getting magically bound by a bunch of paranoid council members now?”
That earns me the flicker of a grin. “Magically bound, huh?”
“Yeah. Like a cursed scroll they’re afraid might go off if someone breathes too hard near it.” I cross my arms. “There was a very ‘contain the dangerous object’ vibe in there yesterday.”
His eyes spark with amusement, and his mouth twitches into an almost smile. “And how are you feeling now…cursed scroll?” he asks, and it’s not completely a joke. He sounds like he actually wants to know.
I bite the inside of my cheek, hesitating. “I don’t know. Like my life has turned into a series of magical games and no one remembered to hand me a rulebook?”
His smile fades slightly, replaced by something softer. “If they did, they sure as hell didn’t give you the right one.”
I look at him as we come to a stop next to the greenhouse. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I’m always nice,” he says dryly.
“You’re usually lessavailable, let’s say.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just leans back against the stone wall beside me, eyes scanning the sky like it might offer answers.
“I came to check on you,” he says at last. “And it’s not because of the bond between us.”
I blink. “Okay…”
“I just wanted to see how you were. After everything.”
There’s a beat of silence between us. Not that uncomfortable silence that makes you want to fill it, but a soft silence filled with things that we both aren’t saying.
Something tightens in my chest. “I’m fine,” I say, even though I’m not sure it’s true.
But I think maybe he knows that. Because he doesn’t push. Doesn’t question. Just stands there beside me like someone who won’t flinch if I fall apart.
“Are you?” he asks quietly.
The question isn’t a challenge. It’s not even skeptical. It’s as though he already knows the answer and is just giving me the space to admit it. He takes a step closer.
My mark pulses beneath my cloak, a flicker of heat against my skin as it reacts to him. I curl my fingers into my palm, as if I can hold the feeling in. I don’t look at him right away. If I do, I might say something I can’t take back. Or worse—do something I’ll never forget.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I whisper. “Everything’s changing so fast. The magic, the mark, the way people look at me now…”
His gaze is steady, grounded. “Not everyone.”
I glance up. “No?”
“I don’t look at you like that.”
