Chapter 473: Just Come Back to Me

I followed him back inside, my mind racing at approximately a thousand miles per hour.

Braxton suspected something fundamental.

Didn’t know specifics yet.

But he definitely suspected.

That level of scrutiny was extraordinarily dangerous to maintain.

Back inside the house, everyone had settled into their various evening routines with the comfortable chaos of people who’d learned to coexist in close quarters.

Raphael lifted weights with single-minded determination.

Marco played cards with Malachi, the latter somehow winning despite appearing half-asleep.

Jaime meditated in the corner while simultaneously flexing different muscle groups, because apparently he was physically incapable of doing just one thing at a time.

Isabelle read something on her tablet with intense focus.

Juan had achieved his natural state of vertical unconsciousness.

The usual controlled chaos of the Onyx Hounds’ common area.

I headed upstairs, exhaustion pulling at every limb.

Found Natalia waiting in the hallway outside my door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Her purple eyes tracked my approach.

"Your room or mine?" she asked simply.

"Yours. Maki’s in mine and she’s probably naked."

"Of course she is." Natalia unlocked her door, the magnetic lock disengaging with a soft click. "You know everyone’s betting on tomorrow."

I followed her inside, closing the door behind us with deliberate care. The hallway outside was too quiet—every sound felt like it could wake the entire dormitory. "Who’s favoring me?"

"Marco. Emi. Soomin. Hikari." She ticked them off on her fingers, leaning back against her desk. The lamplight caught the violet in her hair, turning it almost silver at the edges. "Everyone else thinks you’re going to get destroyed."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I didn’t say what

I

think." She turned to face me fully, arms crossing beneath her chest in that defensive posture she always took when she was trying not to show concern. "I think you’re going to do something insane. Something that breaks every rule. And somehow you’ll walk away still breathing."

"That’s the plan."

"Your plans are terrible."

"They work."

"They work because I’m there to fix them when they explode." She closed the distance between us in two quick steps and grabbed my shirt, yanking me down to her eye level. The fabric bunched in her fists. "Promise me something."

"Depends what it is."

"Don’t try to be a hero tomorrow. Just win. I don’t care how dirty you fight. I don’t care if you cheat. I don’t care if the entire Academy thinks you’re dishonorable." Her grip tightened, knuckles white against the black material. Her voice dropped to something raw and desperate. "Just come back to me in one piece."

I covered her hand with mine, feeling the slight tremble in her fingers that she was trying so hard to hide.

"I promise."

"Liar."

"Probably."

She kissed me.

Hard.

Like she was trying to brand the promise into my bones, to physically force her will into my body through sheer determination and desperation. Her lips were demanding, almost bruising in their intensity. When she pulled back, her eyes were wet—not quite crying, but dangerously close to that edge she never let herself cross in front of anyone.

"I hate this."

"I know."

"I hate that I care this much." The words came out strangled, like admitting it physically hurt her.

"I know that too."

"If you die, I’m killing you." She tried to inject some of her usual bite into it, but it came out shaky.

"Noted."

She pulled me down onto her bed with surprising force for someone her size, practically dragging me by the shirt. "Sleep here tonight. I need to know you’re alive."

"Natalia—"

"Please."

That word.

She never used it.

Not with me. Not with anyone. Natalia Kuzmina didn’t beg. Didn’t ask. She commanded, she demanded, she took what she wanted. But she was asking now, and the naked vulnerability in her voice made something in my chest constrict painfully.

I kicked off my shoes, letting them thud against the floor one after the other. Climbed in beside her. The mattress dipped under our combined weight as she immediately plastered herself to my side, like she needed to confirm through touch that I was really there.

Head on my chest.

Arm across my stomach, her fingers curling into my shirt.

The Cryo-Lich Ring pressed cold against my skin through the thin fabric, a constant reminder of everything we’d built together.

"I can hear your heart," she whispered into the darkness.

"Good. Means I’m not dead yet."

"Don’t joke." Her arm tightened around me.

"Sorry."

We lay there in the dark, the only sound our breathing and the distant hum of the Academy’s environmental systems. The room smelled like her—something floral and expensive that she’d never admit to caring about. Her breathing eventually evened out into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep, but I couldn’t follow her there.

My mind kept running scenarios.

Reyna’s marionettes boxing me in from three angles, cutting off every escape route.

Her lightning catching me mid-dodge, the electricity cooking me from the inside out.

Her perfect form executing combinations I’d never seen, flowing from one attack to the next with the effortless grace of someone who’d trained since childhood.

Every simulation ended with me on the ground, broken and bleeding, while the crowd cheered for Valoria’s favorite daughter.

You’re catastrophizing,

Nel said quietly, her mental voice unusually gentle.

"I’m being realistic."

You have Lightning Rod. You have Kinetic Absorption. You have Steel Body. Stop acting like you’re helpless.

"I’m not helpless. I’m outclassed." I stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift as cars passed on the street outside. "There’s a difference."

Then outthink her.

"Working on it."

Work faster. You’ve got sixty-four hours.

The hours crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw red hair and crackling lightning. I must’ve dozed eventually because I woke to gray light filtering through Natalia’s curtains, painting everything in washed-out shades of blue and silver.

She was already awake.

Watching me with those intense violet eyes, like she’d been cataloging my breathing patterns to make sure I was still alive.

"Morning."

"Morning," I said, my voice rough with sleep.

"How’d you sleep?"

"Didn’t."

"Me neither." She sat up, the blanket falling away from her shoulders. She was still fully dressed from last night. "Let’s go train."

"It’s like five in the morning."

"And you fight at six tonight. Move." She was already swinging her legs out of bed, all business now that daylight had returned.