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This time, I don’t fight the compulsion.

I grab my things and rush out of the building, not stopping until I’m back in my room. The door slams shut behind me, and I hurl my bag onto my bed with a growl.

The invisible bands around my forearm itch. I rub at them, trying to erase Tweed’s touch, but I can feel it crawling over my skin. I want to wash it all off. The day. The touch. The bargains. What made them necessary in the first place.

But I’ll have to wait until everyone falls asleep to have some privacy.

Ever stopped by hours ago, wondering if I was okay, and I didn’t have the energy to tell her the truth, so I told her I wasn’t feeling well, which wasn’t a complete lie. My stomach is still churning when I slip out of my dorm after midnight and make my way to the baths. The Foundations on my floor are nowhere to be seen. They never are this late at night.

I creep down the stairs on quiet feet, mindful not to make much noise at all, because if one of them realizes I’m up, they might decide to come after me, and I’m really not in the mood for a confrontation.

The warm, humid air strokes over my skin as soon as I open the door to the baths. I head in, expecting them to be empty, as they have been the past several nights, but I stop short when a familiar form comes into view.

Rowan, in all his naked glory, is submerged in the water. His head rests back on a folded towel, but he straightens when I enter, eyes clashing with mine, their golden color practically molten. He nods in acknowledgement and closes his eyes once more.

That’s it? That’s all I get after everything? Not even a hello?

“Where have you been?” I demand, storming over to the side of the pool and dropping my hands on my hips.

He stares at me the way one stares at a puzzle they can’t solve. Like there’s a missing piece on the floor, and he has yet to realize it. “I’ve been sick.”

Fuck. I suspected as much, and I have a feeling what caused it. “With what?”

“A cold.”

I shake my head. “Paranorms don’t get sick.” It’s true. Our immune systems are superior to those of humans. The only thing that makes paranorms sick is consuming extract from Goddess lilies or silver poisoning.

He shrugs. “Were you coming to pick a fight with me or to get in the bath?”

Glancing away, I clench my jaw to keep from demanding more answers.

What happened when you healed me?

Why did you collapse?

Why were you gone?

What does it mean?

They’re questions I’m not sure I really want to ask. There’s a complicated tangle of emotions warring in my chest. I’m relieved to see him, but also annoyed that I don’t know what happened, then irritated with myself for even wanting to know where he was. He’s been kind to me, sure, but we barely speak.

I don’t understand why I care. I shouldn’t. It doesn’t make any sense, especially when I wanted nothing to do with him and his vinculum at the start of the year. Now, I can’t seem to get them out of my head. Be it Drake’s glare, Bellamy’s hungry stare, Carver’s pinched look of frustration, or the curiosity swirling in Rowan’s gaze.

I don’t want to think about them. I want nothing to do with them. I just want to find my magic and my sister, but the four of them are quite literally everywhere. That in itself has frustration sitting on my chest, heavy like an elephant.

“Raina?”

My name on his lips draws my attention. I’m not sure how long I’ve been lost in my head. I’ve been standing here like an idiot. “I’ll leave.”

“No need. I’m done.” He turns and pulls himself out of the water, which sluices down his muscled form. His perky ass is that last thing I see before I look away.

My face is hot from the humidity in the room. Definitely not from the naked shifter. Chewing on my cheek, I study the wall, tipping my head. Someone carved a silencing rune into the wall that blocks out every sound. It’s then I realize the constant tension between my shoulders is nowhere to be found, the quiet a welcome respite from the hyperawareness of everything going on outside these walls.

Who put that there?

The only noise I’m keenly aware of is Rowan’s clothes, which rustle as he slides them on. He pads across the stone floor on bare feet, and I steel myself and glance at him. Droplets of water drip from his long hair, splashing onto his cheeks. “It’s all yours.” He passes by me, giving me plenty of space, and leaves.

Exhaling the breath that was locked in my chest, I hurry to a bench and drop my towel on it, stripping off my clothes and quickly getting in the water. The heat of it sinks into my bones, and I nearly weep in relief as it works to loosen the skin that’s stretched tight over my scars.