Riley’s fingers twitched on the strap of her duffel as she stepped into the chaos of Sentinel Academy—boots slamming, laughter echoing, the air charged with anxiety. Every wall seemed to lean in, pressing discipline and expectation against her skin, but she held her shoulders square. She wouldn’t let her nerves show, even though her heart thudded so loudly it felt like everyone must hear.

Across the gym, Elias Heath’s voice cut through the chatter, low and unyielding. He moved with a self-assurance that made others shrink or straighten, and as his eyes scanned the room, Riley kept her posture perfect, praying she wouldn’t attract attention. Which, of course, was when his gaze landed on her—electric, steady, as if seeing everything she wanted to hide. Something flickered in her stomach: anticipation, or dread, or some dangerous hybrid of both.

Later, in the barracks, Sasha sprawled on her bunk, tossing a rolled-up t-shirt at Riley. “If you keep fidgeting, they’ll eat you alive,” she said, smirking, eyes sharp beneath the fringe of her hair. “Or maybe you want to get noticed by the infamous Mr. Heath.” There was teasing in her tone, but something else too—a hint of challenge, of jealousy she wouldn’t admit.

“I’m here to train. Not to get noticed,” Riley muttered, pretending to rifle through her bag. She ducked her head, careful as she checked her phone. Just one notification—her agent, demanding a photo for an urgent campaign. It felt radioactive in her palm. Sasha craned her neck. Riley snapped her phone shut, heart stuttering, but caught the suspicion in her friend’s raised eyebrow.

Outside, the night was iron-dark, heavy with expectation. Training had left Riley’s muscles trembling—from exertion, and from the intensity of being watched all day. She slipped out for air, hugging her arms around herself, mind spinning with every accidental brush of Elias’s voice in her ear, every fleeting glance. She barely noticed when he approached, silent as a shadow.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Elias said, voice low. He noticed her wince and stopped short, eyeing the scraped skin on her arm. Without asking, he reached out and pressed his thumb gently along the reddened skin. The warmth of his hand sent a shock up Riley’s spine—she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away.

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, but her voice caught. Their eyes locked, a charged silence pulsing between them. For just a moment, his thumb lingered a fraction too long, tracing an imaginary pattern on her wrist. An intimacy no one would see, but both could feel.

He let go suddenly, the spell snapped; he was all stiffness and distance again. Riley tried to say something clever, but her words tangled, so she just stood there as he walked away, shoulders rigid with whatever he was carrying.

Back in her bunk, Riley stared into the dark, her wrist alive where his touch had burned her. She replayed every second, every flicker of possibility in his eyes, until her cheeks burned and her stomach fluttered. In the neighboring bunk, Sasha snored softly—outwardly unfazed, but Riley would’ve sworn she’d seen the shadow of hurt in her eyes earlier.

In his private room, Elias flexed his hand, feeling the echo of Riley’s skin under his fingertips. He sank onto his bed, breath unsteady, wondering what he would do if he let himself fall.

Somewhere, in the hush between night and morning, boundaries had already shifted.

Riley didn’t sleep. Neither did Elias.

Sasha’s eyes blinked open in the dark, suspicion and longing wrestling behind her careful, sharp smile, as her gaze darted to Riley’s phone, its faint screen glow illuminating secrets ready to spill.

To be continued…