Sarafina POV
If someone had told me a week ago that my evenings would involve supernatural training sessions after dinner while two dangerously intense men argued about my safety, I would have laughed in their face.
Now?
Now it's Tuesday.
And apparently this is my life.
The Arcanum training chamber feels colder at night.
The tall stone walls absorb sound in a way that makes every footstep echo slightly too long. Pale blue runes glow faintly across the circular floor, forming intricate patterns that look ancient enough to predate most modern civilizations.
Cassian stands in the center of the circle.
Of course he does.
He looks exactly the same as he did earlier today—composed, elegant, infuriatingly calm. Dark coat, silver-threaded cuffs, posture so straight it could make a ruler jealous.
If this man has ever experienced stress in his life, he hides it better than anyone I've ever met.
Alistair stands three steps behind me.
Which is new.
Very new.
