Azrael surfaced from sleep slowly.
His mind was still heavy, drifting somewhere between dream and awareness. The ceiling above him blurred in and out of focus. For a few seconds he couldn't remember where he was.
Then the door opened.
The soft click of the handle echoed in the quiet room. Azrael's eyes shifted lazily toward the sound.
And his brain stopped working.
Selena walked in, fresh from the shower. Steam still followed her into the room. A long white towel was wrapped around her body, clinging slightly from the moisture. It covered her, yes, but barely enough to leave nothing to imagination. Her silver hair, damp and heavy, rested over her shoulders and down her back. Small droplets of water traced slow lines along her collarbone.
She didn't look toward the bed. She believed he was asleep.
Azrael's heart skipped. His entire face flushed red in a second. His body stiffened under the sheets like he had been struck.
He wasn't prepared for this. Not mentally. Not physically.
Selena took two steps forward. Then she felt it. That subtle shift in the air.
Her eyes moved. They met his.
Silence.
Her expression froze. Color rushed violently to her cheeks. The towel tightened instinctively as her fingers clutched it. For half a second she stood there, completely stunned.
Then she dropped to her knees. Not dramatically. Not elegantly. Just pure panic. Her face was burning red, eyes wide, breathing uneven. She didn't even know why she knelt. It was just the first reaction her body chose.
Azrael blinked.
For a strange fleeting moment she looked almost adorable. Small. Flustered. Human.
Then his brain rebooted.
Azrael: "I'll pretend I didn't see anything."
He said it far louder than necessary. He turned his head sharply away, grabbed his clothes from the chair beside the bed, and practically escaped into the bathroom. The door shut. The shower turned on almost immediately.
Selena remained frozen on her knees for several long seconds after he disappeared. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears.
What just happened? Why was he awake? Why did she react like that?
She swallowed hard. Only when the sound of running water became steady did she slowly stand. Her legs felt weak for a moment. She tightened the towel, then quickly moved to dress herself, movements sharper than usual, almost mechanical.
Inside the shower, Azrael leaned one hand against the wall, letting the cold water hit his face.
He exhaled slowly.
"Shit."
His thoughts drifted back to the arena. Lyssael. The memory of the screams. The cracking sound of joints under pressure.
Azrael closed his eyes.
Lyssael was a bastard. A noble with pride rotting inside him. Azrael knew he had gone too far. He could have ended it earlier. But he hadn't wanted to. There had been something satisfying about it, watching that arrogance break.
Still. Violette's expression at the end.
Would she be angry?
A small irritation surfaced in his chest.
Since when do I care what others think?
He straightened under the water, jaw tightening. It doesn't matter.
He finished his shower and dressed in his usual black attire, a long comfortable black tunic. Selena had once called it a bathrobe, which he still disagreed with internally. He adjusted the collar, pushed the damp hair back from his forehead, and opened the bathroom door.
And stopped.
The room was quiet again. The bed was perfectly made. Selena was lying on it, her silver hair still slightly damp and spread across the pillow like liquid metal. Her blue eyes were calm now, controlled, observing him without blinking. She wore a white robe this time. Elegant. Composed.
But in her right hand was a dagger.
Azrael's brain registered the weapon before the rest of the image. His steps slowed. The blade rested lightly between her fingers. Not shaking. Not dramatic. Just there.
He broke the silence first.
Azrael: "You're not actually planning to sleep with a blade, are you?"
Selena: "Would you prefer sleeping on the couch?"
Azrael allowed a faint smirk.
Azrael: "It would be a shame not to try this bed. Especially if such a beauty is waiting in it."
The dagger moved. He didn't even see her arm fully extend. The blade sliced through the air and grazed his cheek. A thin red line appeared instantly. The dagger embedded itself in the wall behind him with a sharp sound.
Azrael blinked once.
Selena's shoulders were tense, her breathing slightly uneven. Anger. Embarrassment. Both. She reached down casually and pulled another dagger from somewhere inside the robe.
Azrael: "How many daggers are you hiding exactly?"
She didn't answer. Instead she tapped the mattress beside her with two fingers. A silent invitation. Despite her controlled expression her cheeks were faintly pink.
Azrael noticed. He almost smiled.
Almost.
He slapped his own cheek lightly with his palm.
Focus.
The second dagger suddenly appeared near his throat, stopping a centimeter from his skin. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Selena: "Are you thinking perverted thoughts?"
Azrael: "No. I'm thinking about survival."
A moment of silence passed between them. The tension was strange. Not hostility. Not comfort. Something in between.
Finally Selena lowered the dagger slightly and turned onto her right side, facing him.
Selena: "Lie on your right side too. I want to keep an eye on your back. For my safety."
Azrael: "For your safety?"
He considered arguing. He didn't.
Without another word he walked to the other side of the bed and lay down on his right side, facing away from her. The mattress shifted slightly under his weight. They were close enough to feel each other's presence. But not touching.
Silence filled the room.
Azrael stared at the wall in front of him. Behind him he could feel her gaze. Alert. Guarded. He wondered if she would actually sleep. He wondered why his heartbeat was still slightly faster than normal.
After a few minutes her breathing slowly began to steady. Calm. But not fully relaxed.
Azrael allowed his eyes to close.
And like that, the second night at the academy came to an end.