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"Report anything unusual."

"Yes."

"Don't investigate it." I hesitate. His eyes narrow. "Eirea."

"I heard you."

"That's not what I said."

"It's the best you're getting."

He sighs. Then looks at Cassian. "You're responsible for her."

Cassian nearly chokes. "Absolutely not."

"Good answer." I say.

Caelen closes his eyes briefly. Apparently being related to me is exhausting.

Morning classes pass without incident. Which has become noteworthy. No flickering wards. No lost manifestations. No strange moments of silence. Professor Aldren assigns twelve pages of reading. Professor Silas informs us that our botanical identification examination remains scheduled despite "current distractions." Someone mutters something profane. She hears. Adds an additional specimen. I admire her commitment to suffering.

During Magical Structures, Professor Elian returns our first ward-response examinations. Mine lands facedown. Never a good sign. I turn it over. 87. I stare. Nyra's paper arrives. 98. Of course. Cassian turns his over. His face goes blank. I lean sideways. 74.

"That's passing." I whisper.

"Technically."

"That's still passing."

"I have standards."

Nyra looks over. "Since when?"

Cassian puts a hand over his heart. "I am wounded." Professor Elian clears his throat. "You will have another opportunity next week."

Cassian sits up. "Oh, good." The sarcasm earns him a look. He smiles innocently.

I should be thinking about my own grade. Instead my eyes catch on a note Professor Elian wrote beneath my final answer. Good instinct. Poor justification. Trust evidence, not expectation. I read it twice. Not because of the exam. Because lately everything seems to be telling us the same thing. Stop deciding what should be happening. Watch what actually is.

Lunch brings no news. No announcement. No bell. No missing person. Forty-eight hours. People notice. Someone near the entrance actually says: "Maybe they found somewhere safe." No one corrects him. Rhyven doesn't appear at lunch. Neither does Caelen. Chief meeting. Again. I don't ask where they are. I don't need to. Not because of the bond. Because this has become their routine. Maps before meals. Meetings between classes. Patrol schedules instead of sleep. Rhyven has become so thoroughly woven into the machinery of the Academy that sometimes I wonder whether he remembers he's technically still a student. Then I remember he's Rhyven. Probably not. Our afternoon combat lesson lasts only an hour. An actual hour. Students look suspicious when Dax dismisses us. One wolf remains standing. "That's it?"

Dax stares at him. "Would you prefer another two hours?"

"No."

"Then leave before I reconsider."

The entire field empties in under thirty seconds. Efficiency. Rhyven would approve.

I use the unexpected time to prepare for Friday. Blood Echo. Council evaluation. My father. I hate every word in that sentence. Professor Vayne gave me a list of possible assessment exercises. Controlled memory access. Emotional separation. Duration limits. Voluntary withdrawal. Interpretation accuracy. No surprises. Which means there will absolutely be surprises.

I sit alone in one of the practice rooms with three sealed blood samples lined across the table. None belong to anyone I know. Professor Neris approved them. Small memories. Safe ones. Nothing traumatic. Still...I hesitate. Not because I'm afraid of Blood Echo anymore. Because that's exactly what Friday is designed to measure. Whether I can choose. Whether I can enter without being consumed. Whether I can stop.

The first sample is easy. A woman kneading bread. Warm flour beneath her hands. Sunlight. Someone singing badly in another room. I withdraw after ten seconds. Second. A child learning to swim. Fear. Then laughter. Withdraw. Third. I touch the blood. And stop. Before entering. Something about it feels heavier. Not dangerous. Just...Private. The manifestation waits beneath my skin. Ready. I could open it. I don't. I remove my fingers. My breathing remains steady. For several seconds I simply stare at the sample. Then write: Declined. Emotional density exceeds training objective. Professor Vayne will either approve... or write NO across the entire page hard enough to destroy it. Could go either way.

"You didn't enter." I nearly throw the vial. I turn. Rhyven stands in the doorway. Of course.

"Do you enjoy appearing without warning?"