Night in Coldstone didn't fall it collapsed.
It came down like a heavy curtain soaked in ink, smothering the corridors, swallowing light, sharpening every sound until silence itself felt hostile. The prison breathed differently at night, slower and deeper, like a beast settling into sleep but keeping one eye open.
Lila sat on her bunk, Raven's words looping in her mind like a prayer and a warning all at once.
Don't leave your cell.
If anyone knocks don't answer.
Say my name.
The last sentence echoed the loudest.
She hugged her knees, feeling smaller than she ever had in her life. The metal bed was cold beneath her, unforgiving, as if reminding her that comfort was a privilege she no longer owned. Mira lay above her, unusually quiet.
"You okay?" Mira asked finally.
Lila hesitated. Lying felt pointless. "I'm scared."
Mira exhaled slowly. "That means you're still human."
The lights dimmed. One by one, the corridors sank into shadows, illuminated only by harsh strips of fluorescent light that buzzed like dying insects. The guards' footsteps faded, replaced by distant murmurs low voices slipping through vents and walls like secrets searching for ears.
Time stretched.
Minutes passed like hours. Hours passed like something worse.
Then
A knock.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Soft.
Too soft.
Lila's breath caught in her throat. Her heart slammed against her ribs, frantic and panicked, like a trapped animal sensing the hunter's breath.
Mira stiffened above her. "Don't move," she whispered.
The knock came again.
"Lila," a voice murmured through the door. Sweet. Familiar. Dangerous in its gentleness. "Just want to talk."
Marrow.
The name slithered through Lila's thoughts like poison.
She closed her eyes, Raven's warning crashing into her memory like thunder.
Don't answer.
The handle rattled slightly.
"Come on," Marrow coaxed. "I know you're awake. I just want to help you understand how things work around here."
Lila pressed her hand over her mouth, afraid even her breathing would betray her. Her pulse roared in her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to disappear.
The door rattled harder this time.
"Don't make this difficult," Marrow's voice sharpened, the sweetness cracking like thin ice. "You don't want trouble."
Trouble.
Lila had walked into it the moment she entered Coldstone.
Her chest tightened. Her vision blurred. Fear crawled up her spine, icy and relentless.
Then she remembered Raven's eyes in the yard steady, unflinching. A lighthouse in a storm.
Her lips trembled.
She swallowed.
And spoke.
"Raven."
The word barely escaped her mouth. A whisper. A gamble.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then footsteps echoed down the corridor slow, measured, deliberate. Not hurried. Not loud.
Certain.
Marrow cursed under her breath. "Damn it."
The footsteps stopped outside the cell.
A shadow fell across the narrow window.
Raven's voice cut through the dark like a blade wrapped in velvet. "Get away from her door."
Silence stretched tight as wire.
Marrow scoffed. "This doesn't concern you, Cross."
Raven stepped closer. "Everything that breathes in this block concerns me."
Lila couldn't see Raven's face, but she felt her presence like gravity pulling the room into alignment. The air shifted. Fear recoiled.
"You're overstepping," Marrow said, though her voice lacked conviction now.
Raven laughed softly a sound that carried no humor. "You don't get to decide where my steps land."
Another pause.
Then Marrow backed away, her footsteps retreating like a tide forced back by the moon.
"Fine," she muttered. "But she's not untouchable."
Raven didn't respond.
The corridor fell silent again.
Only when the sound of footsteps vanished completely did Lila realize she had been holding her breath.
The cell door buzzed.
Unlocked.
Mira sucked in a sharp breath. "What are youb"
Raven stepped inside.
Up close, in the dim glow of the corridor light, she looked carved from shadow. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes burned focused, fierce, protective.
"Are you hurt?" Raven asked.
Lila shook her head, words stuck behind a wall of emotion. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably now that the danger had passed.
Raven noticed.
She crouched slightly not towering, not threatening bringing herself closer to Lila's eye level. The gesture was small, but it shattered something inside Lila's chest.
"She won't try again tonight," Raven said. "But this isn't over."
Lila finally found her voice. "You came."
Raven's jaw tightened. "I said say my name."
Something about the way she said it simple, matter-of-fact made Lila's throat burn.
"Why do you care?" Lila asked softly. "You barely know me."
Raven studied her for a long moment, as if searching for a lie hidden beneath the truth.
"Because," she said finally, "you remind me of someone I failed."
The words landed heavy, like stones dropped into water.
Before Lila could ask more, a guard's voice echoed faintly down the hall.
"Time's up, Cross."
Raven stood. The armor slid back into place. The softness vanished like it had never existed.
She paused at the door. "You did good tonight," she said quietly. "Fear didn't win."
Lila hugged her knees tighter. "It almost did."
Raven glanced back. "Almost doesn't count."
The door locked behind her.
The silence returned but it was different now. Less sharp. Less alone.
Lila lay back on her bunk, staring into the darkness. Her heart still raced, but beneath the fear was something new something dangerous.
Trust.
In a place built to destroy it.
She had spoken Raven's name into the dark and the dark had listened.
And somewhere deep inside, Lila realized that this night had marked her.
Not just as a target.
But as someone worth protecting.