I stayed perfectly still. Maybe if I didn't move, he would think I was a statue.

I heard him take another step into the room, moving closer to me. "Perhaps I was given the wrong room number this morning. I attempted to come see you. But no one answered the door."

I still didn't respond, and that angered him. "Look at me when I speak to you," he ordered. Immediately, I unfroze, turning around and meeting the eyes. Those were the eyes I was so scared of, the eyes I vigorously avoided, the eyes I could never ever see. And here they were.

"I called the school after I received a credit card bill full of purchases made here," he said. "I was informed that her highness and Lord Ozera had so graciously invited you to spend the weekend at Court with a friend. In fact, I was at first impressed you were spending money on clothing to attend prestigious Court events. My daughter, finally working her way into politics."

One more step toward me. There was nowhere for me to go; the bed was behind me, against my legs. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run. "However, what displeased me was your disregard toward informing me about these things. In fact, I am very unhappy that I haven't heard from my daughter at all since you've been at school. I wrote you that letter. I told you that I expected regular updates."

"I – I didn't read it," I said, and then wished I hadn't spoken. Don't interrupt, Laynie, my mother's worried voice said in my mind. Never interrupt your father.

He continued like I hadn't spoken, anger lighting up the ice in his eyes. "Do you know how many people I had to call to find out where you were staying? And then they don't even give me the right room number. Dhampirs," he spat, gritting his teeth. His jawline was in shadow from the lamp just behind me, on the nightstand. "Useless."

"I've been doing well in school," I said, my voice small, so small. How could I have ever believed myself capable of standing up to him? "They moved me into advanced defense classes. Ms. Carmack says I've basically mastered the elemental training they give to the seniors. I'm ahead of everyone." I was pleading with him, pleading for his pride, pleading for his anger to go away. One more step toward me.

"How very proud that would have made me," he said, "had I been informed of it earlier."

"I'm sorry," I told him, begging; one more step. Lexan's sketchbook fell to the floor at my feet, and I flinched, but my father did not.

"Whose things are these?" he asked suddenly, his eyes moving behind me to Lexan's suitcase on the bed. I had never wanted Lexan more in my entire life than I did at that moment. I would have given up the time he had saved my life in the woods, if only he could be with me here.

"My – my friend's," I answered. "The friend I brought with me to Court."

"A boy's things?" he asked me. One more step. "You're sharing a room with a boy?"

I didn't know what to say, my eyes falling to Lexan's sketchbook on the floor, having landed open. Walk into mine, I read.

"Look at me when I speak to you," my father ordered again. "I shouldn't have to tell you more than once." One more step covered the distance between us, and his hand moved back. I froze, unable to respond in any way. I closed my eyes, letting his fist strike me. Once, again. Again.

—

"Laynie! Wake up!"

"Stay with me Laynie, baby, stay with me. Be okay."

"Laynie, please."

"Laynie!"

—

What woke up me up was a scraping noise. Over and over, hiss hiss hiss, scrape scrape. I wondered if someone was moving something across the floor, or filing their nails. No, those weren't right. I couldn't place the noise. Scrape, scrape.

The second thing I knew was that I was in pain. Everywhere. My ribs, my chest, my face especially. One of my legs. My arm. I felt tightly bound, as if I was tied up or wrapped in a blanket. Judging by how warm I was, it was probably a blanket.

Scrape, scrape, hiss.

What was that sound?

It took vigorous effort to peel my eyes open. They burned immediately, and I flinched, bringing my arm up to shield them from the light. My body spiked with pain at the movement, and I cried out.

"Laynie, baby," someone breathed, jumping to my side. "It's okay. You're safe now. Come here."

I was pulled into arms as familiar as my own, and I sighed in relief, digging my fingers into Lexan's chest. The sobs began before I was even aware of them, and he held me tightly, almost too tight. It was okay. That pain was welcome.

"What's the noise," I asked him, and felt that my bottom lip was swollen. I loosened one of my arms to reach up and feel it, flinching. Busted. "The noise."

"What noise, baby?" he asked me, moving back to look down at me. His eyes were terrified, and I could guess why; had taking a beating caused me to lose my mind?

I imitated the scrape, and he laughed in relief. He reached behind him to the chair he had been sitting in, holding up the sketchbook and a pencil. So that had been the noise. His pencil on paper.

"What were you drawing?"

"You," he said quickly, sitting back down in his chair.

"No," I said, shaking my head. He looked confused, until I started moving over, trying to make room for him on my bed.

"Careful," he pleaded. "Be okay, Laynie."

"Come on." I patted the space I'd made, pressing my sore body up against the rails on the right side of the mattress. We were in what looked like a hospital room, probably the infirmary at Court. He obliged carefully, fitting himself in beside me and flipping his sketchbook open.

It was like someone had taken a photograph of me and edited it to look hand-drawn. His pencil had shaped my face perfectly; from my eyebrows to the curve of my busted lip, I could immediately see what he'd created. Me, in my hospital bed, cheek bruised, lip swollen. A cut above my forehead. Thin finger-shaped lines on my neck. More lines like that on one of my wrists. The other wrist bound in bandages. The blanket formed tightly around my body.

"What happened here?" I asked, touching my ribs gently. It felt like someone had glued cardboard to my torso.

"Some fractures," he answered. His voice was a mix of angry and depressed. "They wrapped you up for now. They said there's not much else they could do to let those heal."

"What else?"

Lexan's face closed down, all anger now. "He did a lot of damage. They said you're going to be out of practice for at least a month."

"No," I said, shaking my head. Pain spiked behind my eyes as I did so, but I didn't care. "I can't be out of practice. I can't."

"You need to heal," he insisted.

"No she doesn't," came a voice from outside the room, and the door was pushed open, Rose Hathaway strutting inside. Following her was Christian Ozera, and a group of guardians, standing around two people. One of the guardians was Mikhail, I realized. His friendly face was drawn, worried.

"Excuse me?" Lexan asked, and I felt his entire body tense; was he planning on fighting all of these people?

"We brought friends," Rose said, smirking like my Lexan always did. The guardians parted, and I saw a man and a woman standing side-by-side. The woman was smiling, serene; the man looked worried. He couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen.

"What is this?" Lexan demanded.

"Spirit practice," Christian said, grinning. "Have you ever seen spirit in action?"

I wasn't paying attention to their banter; instead, I was focused on the two Moroi strangers. The woman looked somewhat familiar to me. Her auburn hair was twisted up into a messy bun, her dress made of floral silk; her eyes were bright blue, but the safe kind. Not like Christian's. Her smile was warm, friendly, and she noticed me staring. "Hello, Eleyn," she said, moving toward my bed. Lexan leapt off, blocking her way, and the guardians shot forward, Mikhail especially. "Stop," she told all of them calmly. "He's fine."

"What happened to you, Laynie?" Christian asked, all of a sudden; all eyes were on me, inquisitive. I tried desperately to think of some story, but couldn't.

"I fell."

Lexan snorted. "Laynie, you can tell them the truth."

"I am," I insisted, my voice weak. I reached for him, for my safety, taking his warm hand. "I fell."

"Laynie," Rose said, softly. "Why didn't you kick his ass?"

"Whose?" I asked, not meeting anyone's eyes anymore. "There was no one else in the room. I tripped."

"She's lying because she's scared," Mikhail told them. "We all know who did this to her."

"There's nothing we can do for her if she won't admit it. There are no security tapes, nothing incriminating him," Rose pointed out.

"What about the fucking choke marks on her neck?" Lexan demanded. "I want to kill him. I'm going to kill him."

"Stop," the Moroi woman said. "Come here, Aidan."

The young Moroi man moved forward, toward his partner, and I watched them in confusion, still clinging to Lexan. "My name is Sonya," she told me, still smiling. "This is Aidan. We are both spirit users. Rose suggested that we allow Aidan to practice his healing powers, and what better person to use them on than someone in need of protection and help as much as you are?"

"What?" Lexan asked. "There are more spirit users?"

"Aidan is not one that is known," Sonya said. I knew exactly who she was now – Sonya Karp. She had been Strigoi before. She was married to Mikhail, the loved one of his who had turned dark. She was our link, just as my aunt and uncle were. "He only very recently discovered his abilities. So, how do you feel about this, Laynie?" So it was Laynie now, huh?

"Go for it," I said, laughing until it jolted a spike of pain in my ribs. I grimaced, and Lexan moved closer to me, gently taking my face in his free hand.

"You don't have to agree if you don't want this."

"What's the harm?" I asked, shrugging. It hurt to move at all. "I never got to practice my magic on actual people."

"Because you would have lit them on fire," Christian pointed out, laughing. "Nice try though, Laynie."

"Her injuries aren't extensive enough to affect him that much," Rose told us. "Especially because he's used hardly any of his spirit. He has to learn somehow, right?"

"I don't want to hurt him," I said, wrinkling my brow. Wasn't it bad for spirit users to use their magic? Didn't it make them go crazy?

"No worries, Laynie," Aidan said, speaking for the first time. He was definitely on the younger side; his black hair was very tidy, his eyes dark brown like Rose's. There was a dimple in his chin, his jawline striking. "I just want to help you." His voice was so comforting, so safe. I had heard about spirit charisma, but I'd never seen it. How did I trust him after only hearing him say two sentences?

Aidan moved closer to me and Lexan, and I dropped Lexan's hand, holding mine out to Aidan. Lexan grimaced, touching my shoulder, and I leaned against his touch. "It'll be fine," I told him. I didn't know how I knew that it would be fine, but I knew.

"That's what you said when you went to get the sketchbook," he reminded me. Well, he had me there.

"Give him some room," Sonya instructed, and everyone except Lexan and Aidan moved away from my bed. Aidan sat on the edge next to me, and his grip was warm, safe; he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

It took several seconds for me to feel any different. But when he exhaled one more time, it seemed like the magic spread through me as he breathed.

Everything was warm, tingly; my arms, my face, my ribs. I closed my eyes, scrunching up my face at the sensation, but I couldn't feel anything negative; it was all safe, healing. It took only seconds for him to let me go, and we opened our eyes together. His smile was dazzling.

"Laynie," Lexan breathed, and I looked up at him, no longer in any pain. His grin matched mine, and I reached up for him. He hugged me tightly, kissing my cheek and my neck. "My Laynie."

"Holy shit," Rose said, laughing. "The kid did it! Lissa's gunna die."

"How do you feel?" Lexan asked me, pulling back to look at my face. He touched my lip, and it didn't hurt at all. No part of me did.

"Healed," I said, grinning, and glanced at Aidan. "Thank you so much."

"Thank you for your trust," he replied, standing up. "I feel fine, Sonya."

"Good to hear," she said, taking his face in her hands, and I could see her pride. Everything in this room was too emotional for me at the moment. I blinked back tears and hugged my Lexan again, burying my face in his chest.

"You smell like Moonlight Spa," I told him, and his laugh rumbled against my cheek.

"We need showers."

"And you also need to get on a plane," Christian said. "We don't know if he's here still."

I remained silent. I was saving my questions for when Lexan and I were alone.

"What's going to happen?" Lexan asked, his anger back in his voice. I pulled back, reaching up and touching the lines in his brow. I didn't like seeing him angry.

"Laynie is sixteen. There's not much we can do unless she tells us what really happened." Christian looked pointedly at me, and I glanced away. Those eyes.

"I did," I whispered, and Lexan's arm around me tightened.

"As long as he leaves her alone, we'll be fine for the time being. The guardians on campus would tell us if he paid her a visit. And she's coming to Bosnia with me for Thanksgiving. We might need royal permission for that, because I doubt he'll be giving it."

I didn't speak, but a smile pulled at my lips. If Lexan said so.

"Do they even celebrate Thanksgiving in Bosnia?" Rose asked.

"No, but my family does," he said. "Especially since I missed it last year."

No one said anything to that, and the group of guardians and Moroi filed out of the small room. Christian and Rose said their goodbyes, and then Lexan and I were finally alone again. I took one look at him and burst into another round of sobbing, and he just held me, the scent of the oil still on his skin.

Lexan and I didn't shower, for fear of being separated again when my father was possibly still at Court. I wondered how they didn't know where he was; didn't people have to sign in and out? Had he even signed in? Regardless, we took no risks. Several guardians retrieved our things from our rooms and loaded them onto a plane. Within an hour, we were en route back to Montana. I had never been more relieved to be going back to St. Vladimir's.

I fell asleep on the way, and awoke to that same scraping, peeking out one eye and seeing another sketch of me forming itself on Lexan's paper. I was sleeping on the plane seat, hair a mess, eyes closed, cheeks rosy. I had the sudden urge to look at his face, to see the concentration, but I couldn't do that without giving away that I was awake. And then he wouldn't be concentrated anymore.

We got back in the Academy's evening, and there were more than enough students roaming the grounds. It was Saturday night, after all. Court guardians took our things to our rooms for us, although after being healed I felt perfectly capable of carrying my own bag. I remembered that the letter was still in it. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to read it or not.

Eyes followed Lexan and me as we walked with each other toward my dorm, where he was planning on dropping me off; we both knew I was just going to go back to his room after showering, but I wasn't one to waste even one second. His sketchbook was tucked under his arm, his fingers tangled with mine.

We got to my door and it burst open; I flinched, immediately moving behind Lexan. It was Alex, her eyes crazed, her stance defensive. "Laynie, my god," she breathed. "We all thought you were dead. We thought you got put in jail or something."

"Alive, definitely," I said, moving out from behind Lexan. "Not that it would matter to you either way."

Her eyes registered hurt, but I ignored it entirely, turning to my Lexan. "I'll see you in twenty," I told him, and he nodded, glancing at Alex again. I could tell he was nervous to leave me alone. "There's only one person I'm scared of," I reminded him.

His lips twitched. "Right," he answered. "See ya, Laynie." His eyes didn't leave Alex until he began walking away, slowly loosening his hold on my fingers until we couldn't reach anymore. I could even recognize the worry in his stance, the way he walked. I didn't know how on earth I'd found someone who could worry just as much as I could.

"Laynie," Alex said, moving out of the way as I started into our room. Everything looked the same, the exact way I'd left it, except for my duffle bag sitting on my bed. I pulled pajama shorts and a t-shirt out of it and a change of underwear, turning around to look for a towel. I didn't reply to Alex.

"Laynie," she repeated. "I was worried about you."

"What is my reply to that even supposed to be?" I asked her without a glance, pulling a clean towel off the stack and remembering I'd need my toiletries. I began digging through the duffle again.

"I – I don't know," she answered, more hurt in her voice. I didn't care. She'd hurt me plenty in the past month.

"I feel bad for the way we've been since everything happened," she told me slowly, sitting on her bed. I kept my back to her. "It's my fault, I know. I shouldn't have left you alone like that. I shouldn't care so much about what everyone thinks. God, I feel horrible."

I straightened out, turning to face her. "Cry me a river," I told her, taking my things and leaving the room. I made sure to close the door at a reasonable volume behind me, making my shower long and drawn out. Once I was confident all the oil was off my skin, I turned the water off, putting my hair up in its usual messy bun and walking back to my room slowly. Alex wasn't there. Hanging up my towel and taking a change of clothes with me, I headed downstairs toward Lexan's dorm, not feeling bad at all. Alex had been my friend, but that didn't change what she'd done to me. And I hadn't had the kind of day where I was in the mood to forgive.