Page 80 of Unbound

"For your safety," Voss interrupts smoothly. "There are those who would destroy you simply for existing, Nessa. Your secret must remain between us until you're strong enough to protect yourself."

I find myself nodding. What he says does make sense. There's no reason to risk trusting others now. Not when I still have so much to learn. Not when it would be safer to wait until I can protect myself from those who would betray me. And it’s what I’ve already been doing for months, even if I’ve been getting closer to wanting to tell Mireen and the others. "I understand."

"Excellent." Voss smiles. "We'll begin your private training tomorrow evening. For now, you should rest."

He rises, signaling the end of our meeting. As I stand, my legs feel unsteady beneath me like my bones have turned to water.

"Remember," he says as he guides me toward the door with a hand on my shoulder, "not a word to anyone about what you are. About what we discussed. It's for your protection."

I nod again. Distantly, I recognize he's touching me and none of his power is flowing into me. If nothing else, it's a confirmation he's not a primal or the carrier of an affinity. It makes trusting him a little easier.

The moment I step into the hallway, the door closes behind me with a soft click.

I lean against the wall, drawing in deep breaths. My thoughts feel sluggish and syrupy, like the Rector just stuffed so much unexpected information in my head that I'm still struggling to process it. And after months of hiding what I am, the burden of secrecy has been partially lifted. Someone else knows—someone who wants to help, not hurt me.

"That was... unexpected,"Typhon says carefully."Are you well, angry human?"

"I'm fine," I murmur. "Just... surprised. I can't believe he wants to help me."

Before I can collect my scattered thoughts, movement in the shadows catches my eye. Raith steps forward, his scarred face tight with concern. He's leaning against the wall about twenty feet down the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, golden glowing eyes a predator’s in the dim light.

For a split second, I see something shockingly close to concern on his face. Concern for me. Worry. It's gone quickly, replaced by anger and his usual distrustful scowl. "What happened in there?"

I shake my head. Raith knows I'm an unbound. He knows parts, even if he doesn't know the whole story. Especially the parts about how dangerous I could become and how many would kill me for what I am. And yet…

The Rector's words ring in my mind. Tell no one.

"Nessa?" Raith steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him like standing beside a hearth—comforting and warm at a distance, but dangerous or even deadly if I drift too close. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I manage to say. "He just... wanted to talk about my progress."

Raith's eyes narrow, clearly sensing there's more. "And?"

"And... he's offering to mentor me. Private sessions."

Raith's jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath the scarred skin. "You're not telling me everything."

"I am," I insist. "That's all it was."

He studies me for a long moment, those amber eyes seeming to look right through me. "I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anyone," I counter, trying for lightness I don't feel.

"Not true." His voice drops lower, rougher. "I trust you."

Something twists in my chest at his words, a feeling so sharp and sudden it steals my breath leaving a hollow space beneath my breastbone that aches with possibility. I want to tell him everything—about Voss, about the reason I volunteered months ago in Saltcrest, about the fear that's been my constant companion since discovering what I am. I try to form the words, but they catch in my throat like fish bones. Nothing comes.

"I should go," I say instead, confused and suddenly exhausted. "It's been a long day."

Raith catches my wrist as I turn to leave, his touch sending a familiar current of heat up my arm awakening every dormant nerve ending in its path. Not just the natural warmth of his fire affinity, but something deeper, more unsettling. For a moment, I feel the pull of his power, the instinctive urge to draw it into myself.

"Nessa." His voice is barely above a whisper. "If you're in trouble, tell me."

I meet his eyes, seeing real concern there, and something else—something that makes my heart race for entirely different reasons.

"I'm fine," I say, genuinely believing it. "Just tired."

He releases me reluctantly, his fingers trailing along my skin. "Tell me when you're meeting him next. I'll be here. Just in case."

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