Still alive.
That hit first.
Not a thought—more like a jolt, sharp and disorienting, as my eyes opened.
Dim light. A bedside lamp. Shadows stretched across the room.
Something tugged at my arm.
An IV needle.
The blood bag above me hung empty. Two more—also drained—lay discarded on the nightstand.
…Damn.
Nick was on the floor beside the bed, gripping my hand like he thought I might disappear if he let go. His head rested against the mattress, short hair brushing against my fingers with every shallow breath.
Andrew was out cold in a chair by the desk.
And Clyde—
was lying on top of the blanket at the far end of the bed like he owned the place.
I tried not to move.
Didn't want to wake anyone.
The second I shifted—
Nick's eyes snapped open.
Locked onto me instantly.
"Hey…" I croaked. My voice felt like sandpaper.
"Thank God," he breathed. "You're awake."
"Where… are we?"
"Silius's room. We stayed in the city. Didn't want anyone seeing you like that."
"Yeah… I remember," I muttered, trying to swallow.
Bad idea.
My throat burned—dry, raw.
"Water?" I rasped.
"Yeah—wait."
He grabbed a bottle from the minibar, hesitated, then set it beside me and helped me sit up.
The moment I moved, a dull pull stretched through my side.
Not pain.
Not really.
But my body remembered.
Too well.
Nick kept a hand on my shoulder, steadying me as he lifted the bottle to my lips.
I took a few careful sips.
"Nick," I said, voice a little less wrecked now, "I can drink on my own."
"…Right. Sorry."
He handed me the bottle.
Didn't move his hand.
Still holding me like I'd fall apart if he let go.
"How long are you planning to cling to him like that?"
Clyde.
Of course.
I glanced toward him.
"Morning," I muttered.
"How do you feel?" Andrew asked, already on his feet.
I shifted, suddenly aware of how close Nick still was.
Tried to pull away.
"Kid, you've been glued to him since yesterday," Andrew said, smirking. "You like him that much?"
"Yes," Nick answered without hesitation. "I do."
I choked.
Coughed.
Spilled water all over the blanket.
"Great," I muttered hoarsely.
Andrew's smirk twitched into something more interested than amused.
"We're leaving soon," he said, straightening. "Unless you want everyone asking questions. Alan—can you walk?"
"My head's a little messed up," I admitted, pulling the IV needle out. "But I'll manage."
"Take this."
A small vial flew across the bed.
I fumbled it.
Didn't even come close.
Nick caught it, unscrewed the cap, and handed me a red pill.
"What is it?" I asked, eyeing it.
"Samantha said it'll help after blood loss," Clyde said. "Unless you'd prefer collapsing in the middle of class and explaining why."
…Fair.
I popped it into my mouth and washed it down with what was left of the water.
By lunch, the difference was obvious.
The weakness was still there—but dulled. Manageable.
The wound in my side had nearly closed, but the tight pull under the skin reminded me exactly how close I'd come.
Too close.
"Let me get this straight," Robert said, leaning across the table. "You went out without us?"
"What was I supposed to do?" I shot back. "Sit in the academy while you all had fun?"
"Relax, I'll fix that next week," he grinned. "Best places. You'll love it. So what'd you do?"
"Walked around. Movie."
"That's it?" he scoffed. "Damn, Alan. I thought rich kids knew how to have fun."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious," he went on. "It's time you start living properly. Women. Drinks. Gambling. I'll show you everything."
"Don't ruin him," Matthew cut in calmly. "He's still innocent."
"I'm not a kid," I shot back. "I'm two years younger than you."
…And technically much older.
Nope.
Not going there.
Matthew didn't react.
Just looked at me.
"Have you ever been with a woman?"
"…No, but—"
"With a man?" Robert cut in with a grin.
I kicked him.
Hard.
"Hey—! What the hell, you hit way harder now!" he yelped, then grinned again. "Alright, settled. The three of us—" he pointed between us—"are going to a brothel this Saturday. Time to educate you properly."
He threw an arm around my shoulders.
I stiffened.
Not because of him.
Because I glanced at Alma.
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
If what Nick said was true…
Yeah.
This wasn't a great topic.
"Anyway," I cut in, pulling away slightly, "where are you even getting money for all that? And since when do you have a phone?"
"Not just me," Robert said proudly. "Alma and Matthew got theirs yesterday too."
"…Seriously? With what money?"
"I had some saved before coming here," he said vaguely.
I looked at Matthew.
"Fight winnings," he said.
Then Alma.
"Doesn't your patron pay you?" she said instead, dodging the question. "You run errands for Silius all the time."
"I didn't even know that was supposed to be paid," I muttered. "I should go shake Clyde down for everything he owes me."
"What exactly are you planning to shake out of me, Holivan?"
I froze.
Slowly turned.
"…Good afternoon, Mr. Silius," I said, forcing a laugh. "We were just talking about money, and I found out that the errands I've been running… are apparently paid."
"They are," he said. "I saw no reason to pay you while you couldn't leave the academy."
Of course you didn't.
"But now that you can—"
He held out a white envelope.
I took it.
Carefully.
"…Thanks?"
"And this."
A paper bag.
I frowned, weighing it.
"What's this?"
"Your phone. I'm tired of tracking you across the entire academy."
That tracks.
He turned to leave—
then stopped.
Looked back.
"I expect you after dinner. Teacher Storik canceled your training. At my request."
Great.
"Whoa," Robert said immediately, snatching the phone out of my hands. "What exactly are you doing for him, Alan? This kind of treatment isn't normal."
"Give that back," I snapped, taking it from him.
"Nothing special. I run around like a damn messenger, carrying his orders all over the academy."
Which was true.
Mostly.
"Come on," I added, getting to my feet. "We've got class."