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I scrub at my forearm, and with the Goddess-blessed water, the remnants of Tweed’s touch washes away. If only it were as easy to erase other unwanted touches.

An unexpected rush of emotion surges, clogging my throat. My eyes burn, and I tell myself it’s from the steam rising up from the baths, but I know it’s more than that. Something hammers at my chest—my mind—and with every breath, I sense the fragility of whatever is holding me together. Like one more tap, and the tiny fissures that’ve spread through glass like spiderwebs will finally give way, and I’ll shatter into a million pieces.

The lump in my throat burns, and I swallow, forcing my mind away from whatever’s going on inside me. I can’t think about that. I don’t have time for these emotions, whatever they are.

I clench my shaking hands, hating the weakness. I need to focus on what matters.

Tweed is adamant that I figure out how to tap into my magic, but no one is more desperate for that than me. Maybe Professor Silverstone can help. Perhaps she knows of some method that will draw it out.

My heart beats like the wings of a frantic butterfly. I grasp at my necklace, desperately trying to anchor myself. I can’t get my hopes up. How many times, how many different ways, have I tried to access it, only to fail?

But I have to keep trying. For Addy.

My eyes mist at the mention of my sister, and I almost recoil. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly so teary-eyed? It’s not like me.

“Look at you, you can’t even relax.” Carver’s voice whispers through my mind.

Dammit. He’s right. I need to calm down. I need to breathe, so I do just that. I force my eyes shut and count my breaths. Controlling each one until there’s some semblance of calm. The warm water soothes my muscles, but it does nothing for my mind. Even still, I could stay here for hours, letting the Goddess-blessed water soothe my scars, but the longer I’m here, the more likely it is that someone else will come in. Grudgingly, I climb out of the bath, drying off and getting dressed.

My muscles are finally loose, which means I may get a good night’s rest, if only my brain would cooperate. I pull open the door and step out, only to pause at the sight of Rowan standing sentinel across from the entryway.

We stare at one another for a second that stretches into years of understanding. The truth of what happened to his sister . . . my own . . . Melody’s attack and him racing to the rescue. The secrets we keep fill the spaces between us, and his glowing eyes burn with protectiveness that steals my breath.

“What’s your affinity?”

“Elementcraft.” He can help plants grow or use nature to his advantage in a fight. But can he heal?

Before I can ask why he stayed or how he helped me after Melody’s attack, he turns and strides out of the hall, leaving me gaping after him.

Curious, off-kilter, and more than anything, grateful.

There’s something heavy stirring inside me. Like years of suppressed emotions are bubbling to the surface. I watch a bird shivering all alone in the cold December air, and I swear I could cry for it. I. Hate. It. I don’t understand what’s happening to me or how to stop it. I’m on a Tilt-A-Whirl, and I can’t stop spinning. Part of me is scared of what happens when I finally do.

“You’re quiet this morning.” Bellamy’s gaze roves over my features, like he wants to pick me apart. “You're upset.”

Over the short time we’ve been fake . . . whatever we are . . . the vampire seems to think he’s gotten to know me. “Let’s talk about the chief justice.”

“Him again,” Bellamy mutters, the shadows outlining his form seeming to darken, then sighs. “Fine, what do you want to know?”

“How long has he been in his current position?”

“For as long as I can remember.” Bellamy frowns at the skyline. “Why are you so curious about him?”

I head into the Crucible spire, and this time, rather than waiting outside, Bellamy follows me. “I have reasons. Do you know a lot about the Paranormal Guard?”

“Some. We’re being groomed to join it. They think we’ll be one of the strongest bonds this century.”

The reminder of who they’ll become settles over me like a stiff wool blanket on bare skin. I grab the cart full of linens and push it, side-eyeing the vampire. “But that won’t happen until you find your tether?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I guess we won’t know our true capabilities until we bond with our . . . tether.”

Reading his hesitation, I say, “Since you want nothing to do with her, I assume Melody isn’t the one?”

He scowls. “She seems to think she is. So do Chancellor Tweed and the chief justice.”

Interestingly, Bellamy uses his title rather than his name. Given that he knew his parents, I doubt he’d consider using something like dad but even still, the chief justice is so formal. I save that nugget of information to ponder later.

“That’s what they think, but what do you think?”