Immediately, Aria's hand is on her dagger, pulling it from its sheath in a heartbeat. The bck figure closes in, trapping her between the cold stone wall and their body. Without hesitation, she sshes the bde toward their side. But something is wrong—the dagger barely scratches the surface, sliding off their armor like it's nothing. She freezes for a split second, confusion rising in her chest. What the hell?

  She pushes harder, trying to force the bde through the armor, but it’s like stabbing a wall of iron. The figure shifts, their voice emerging from the darkness, thick with mockery.

  “Yeah, that won’t work. Dragon scale leathers.”

  Her heart skips a beat. That voice… she knows it all too well. She’s heard it far too many times already. The realization hits her like a punch to the gut. Colton.

  Her fire flickers at her fingertips, instinctively reaching for the figure before her. The fmes dance dangerously, lighting up the corridor and casting long shadows. She raises her hand toward his face, the fire illuminating his features. There’s no mistaking it now. It’s Colton, standing in front of her like some damn phantom.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, her voice cool, though her heart pounds. The confusion swirling in her chest isn’t something she can shake off easily.

  Colton steps closer, his brows furrowed in frustration. “Where were you?” His voice is tight, filled with an edge she hasn’t heard before. “I looked for you everywhere. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you.”

  She blinks, the words sinking in, the weight of his concern pressing against her. It’s strange, hearing him sound so... earnest. It’s almost too much.

  She tilts her head, a small, almost amused smile curling her lips. “Keep an eye on me, then,” she says, her voice steady, but her heart flutters with something she can’t quite pce. It’s a teasing tone, but even as she speaks, she catches the way his gaze softens, the firelight reflecting in his eyes, making him look almost... vulnerable.

  He doesn’t respond at first, his eyes still locked on hers. His expression shifts, confusion and something deeper swirling in the depths of his gaze. She can’t tell what it is—frustration? Concern? Or something else entirely?

  She rolls her fingers over the fmes, watching them flicker and dance. With a quick motion, she pushes him away, her fire fring just enough to make him stumble back. He doesn’t resist, but she can see the surprise on his face as he takes a step back, his chest rising and falling with the rapid pace of his breath.

  The moment hangs between them, thick with unspoken words. He watches her, trying to make sense of everything she’s just done. She takes advantage of the silence, lighting the torch on the wall with a simple flick of her fingers. The fme sputters to life, casting its warm glow on the stone walls around them.

  “You’re not hurt anymore,” Colton says, his voice softer now, almost in disbelief. The shock is clear on his face. “How?”

  She doesn’t answer him. The questions hanging in the air are his to figure out. He’s so desperate to understand, to put the pieces together, but she’s not ready to let him in. Not now. Not until she finds out why he’s training her and why he took up this offer from the administrators.

  He steps toward her again, his eyes scanning her quickly, as if looking for any sign of weakness, any hint of injury. His gaze lingers on her for a moment before he notices her hair, still damp from the healing springs, and his expression shifts again, the confusion deepening.

  “Your hair is wet too,” he says, like it’s the most perplexing thing in the world.

  She can’t help the sarcastic ugh that escapes her lips. “Thank you, I didn’t notice that,” she replies, her tone dripping with sarcasm. It’s the only defense she has left, the only way she can keep him at arm's length.

  But even as the words leave her mouth, something about the way he looks at her—those soft, confused eyes—sends an unexpected pang through her chest. But she can’t let him see that. Not now. Not until she knows his intentions.

  Colton’s gaze doesn’t leave her, his eyes scanning her like he’s looking for something beyond the dampness of her hair. The air between them grows thick with unspoken questions and frustration. He suddenly speaks, his voice as cold as she’s ever heard it. “Take off your clothes.”

  She blinks in disbelief. “Excuse me?” she says, her voice dripping with annoyance. This is a line she won’t let him cross—not like this.

  His expression tightens, confusion mixing with something else, maybe frustration. “I have to see the bruise. You were coughing up blood just this evening,” he insists, his voice softer now but still firm.

  Her chest tightens with anger, her eyes narrowing. He really has the nerve to ask her to show him the damage he caused? The thought of him acting like he’s in charge of this—of her—fills her with a rage so hot, she can feel it fre beneath her skin.

  She lets the anger twist her expression, and his breath hitches when he sees the fury in her eyes. His voice falters. “It’s not like that,” he mutters, almost pleading.

  But she’s done being reasonable. She shakes her head, her jaw clenched tight. “I don’t have the bruises anymore, so I can’t show you either way.” The words feel like ice on her tongue.

  He stares at her, dumbfounded. “No, that’s not possible,” he says, voice rising in disbelief.

  She feels her patience snap, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She takes a step closer to him, her tone colder than it’s ever been with him. “Look,” she says, letting every ounce of her icy detachment bleed into her words. “If you don’t believe me, then get the hell away from me and go to sleep.”

  She turns to walk away, already done with this entire conversation, but just as she starts moving, she feels his hand wrap around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Her muscles tighten, her anger fring again as he holds her in pce.

  He looks at her, a strange mix of frustration and something softer in his gaze. “I know you won’t tell me how you did that, or how you healed so completely in just a few hours, but you have csses with me tomorrow. We’re doing dragon riding as training tomorrow,” he says, his tone almost commanding.

  The fire surges in her veins once more, igniting the skin where his hand grips her wrist. It’s so hot, she can feel the burn spreading, and she pulls away quickly once he lets go, hearing him curse under his breath as the heat sears his skin.

  Without a second gnce, Aria starts walking again, ignoring the tension still hanging between them. “Okay,” she mutters, her voice sharp, like a bde slicing through the air.

  She reaches her chambers and throws open the door, the heavy wood groaning in protest. Without a word, she steps inside, smming the door behind her with a force that echoes through the silence.

  She sinks to the floor, the weight of exhaustion crashing down on her. The day feels like it’s been a lifetime—so much pain, so much healing in the hot springs, her body mending itself with magic, and the way she fought Colton like she was staring death in the face on the battlefield. She lets out a heavy sigh, her breath ragged as she lets her limbs go sck, the ache of overexertion settling deep in her bones. And then the thought hits her—she has to do it all again tomorrow. The idea feels unbearable.

  She closes her eyes, the world around her blurring into a haze. Please, just end me now, she thinks, the thought heavy and hollow, buried deep beneath her exhaustion and frustration.