He takes a slow step back, and the space he leaves behind feels too empty.
“Try not to melt anything until then or open any rifts in the Veil.”
“No promises.”
The hallwayoutside the training room is quiet, cool air brushing my skin as I try to walk off the adrenaline—and theotherthing that lingers after sparring with Raiden. I round the corner and nearly run right into someone solid and familiar.
“Whoa—hey.” Nolan catches my arm before I can stumble. “You okay?”
I blink up at him, startled. “Nolan. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He doesn’t let go right away. Just studies me for a second, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “You look like you fought a dragon.”
“Close. Raiden.”
“Ah.” He lets go but stays close, walking in step beside me without being asked. “I figured. You’ve got that ‘I just survived something intense and might set something on fire if provoked’ look, that you get after training.”
I huff a laugh. “Is that a compliment?”
“With you?” He nudges my shoulder, eyes warm behind his crooked glasses. “Always.”
There’s still a slight flush on his cheeks, but he’s standing a little taller today, his usual anxious energy folded neatly under something steadier. As though he’s found his footing around me.
It’s…kind of hot.
I nudge him back. “Well, I survived. Mostly. You should see the scorch marks.”
He grins, quick and crooked. “Should I be concerned or impressed?”
“Both,” I say, bumping my shoulder into his again. “I left Raiden smirking, which is basically a win.”
“That’s practically a standing ovation,” Nolan says, then pretends to look me over critically. “Scorch marks aside, you don’t look too worse for wear.”
“Oh? That your professional opinion?”
His lips twitch. “As your magically bonded almost-boyfriend?” He pauses, then winces. “Too far?”
I stop walking just long enough to blink at him. “Almost?”
The tips of his ears go pink. “I mean, I didn’t want to assume?—”
I bite back a smile and keep walking. “You didn’t assume. You hinted. Bold move.”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for the last five seconds. “So…not abadmove?”
I glance sideways at him, letting my grin bloom. “Maybe I like bold.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets but can’t stop the way his smile spreads. “Good to know.”
We fall into step again, the space between us charged in that quiet, electric way it always seems to be lately.
“So,” he says after a beat, “speaking of bold moves… you going to the Revel?”
I groan. “Unfortunately, yes. Tamsin says it’s mandatory. But, like,fun-mandatory. Her exact words were something aboutunleashing glorious chaos under moonlight. So. That sounds safe.”
He laughs, the sound warm and real. “Ah, the classic Blackthorn version of a school dance. Mild threat of magical disaster included.”
I glance at him. “You going?”
