Soren got back to the dorm at eight-fifteen.

Selah stood dead center in the room holding a piece of paper with both hands like it might bite her.

She had thrown on one of his spare academy shirts after training and nothing else.

The hem barely reached the top of her thighs and the thin fabric clung to the curve of her hips where the frost had made her skin damp.

"What," he said.

She shoved the paper at him.

He took it. Official academy letterhead sat at the top with the two crossed binding stones crest.

He read the first line and his stomach dropped two floors.

Notice of Thermal Surveillance Review. Dormitory East Wing, Floors 3 through 5. Assigned Investigator: Joan Sawyer, Continental Bureau — Thermal Division. Review window: 72 hours commencing 0800 today.

"This morning," Selah said. "Slid under the door while you were with Dani."

He had known it was coming. The system had said nine hours.

He just hoped nine hours meant tonight instead of eight in the morning.

He handed the paper back. Grimm stayed on the bed with her white fur flat and her muzzle pressed hard into the mattress like she refused to look at it.

"How bad is Joan Sawyer," Selah asked.

Soren pulled the chair out and sat down. He put his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor.

"She closed three rogue SS-Rank cases in two years," he said. "Hundred percent closure rate. They send her when the regular investigators come back empty."

Selah stayed quiet for a second. "And she’s here about a temperature drop."

"She’s here about a pattern," Soren said. "The temperature drop is just the one she can measure."

[DING! — Joan Sawyer has accessed dormitory mana log records for the past 14 days. Cryo-sensor deployment in corridors B3 through B5 confirmed. Surveillance node installation in progress.]

The frost on Selah’s knuckles thickened and climbed to her second knuckle.

She held it there.

The cold made the shirt ride up another inch on her thighs and Soren forced his eyes to the floor because his stupid teenage body did not need another reason to react right now.

"Selah."

"What?"

"You’re handling the fusion," he said. "You’re doing good."

"Don’t flatter me," she said. "I need a plan."

He looked at the paper again. Joan’s thermal survey covered every localized drop Selah had caused in the last four days.

Every single one sat timestamped and mapped on those logs.

He did the math fast of the three incidents, all inside normal range for an ice-type beast except the minus-eleven reading from last night.

"Cole already flagged that one," Soren said.

"Which means Joan has Cole’s report," Selah said.

"Which means she’s not starting from zero."

Grimm lifted her head off the mattress. Her ears came up and she made that low sound she used when something outside the room pissed her off.

Soren looked at the door.

Grimm stood up on the bed. Her fur went flat along her spine and Soren read the posture like she was already halfway down the hallway.

He stayed in the chair. Standing up when someone knocked made it look like he had been waiting.

The knock came seven seconds later.

"Soren Kane."

The voice was a woman’s, lower than he expected, completely level.

He had read her case files three times in the novel and still hadn’t nailed the voice in his head.

Joan Sawyer stood in the hallway in the Bureau’s gray coat with a tablet in one hand and a cryo-sensor the size of a pen cap in the other.

She looked at Grimm first, then at Selah, then at the whole room behind them.

She didn’t miss anything, including the way Selah had stepped half in front of Soren like she owned the space between them.

"The review notice went out this morning," she said. "I’m doing courtesy introductions before I pull the corridor logs."

"Courtesy introductions," Selah repeated, voice sharp.

"Yes." Joan looked straight at Selah. "Miss Young. Your sprite shows a mana signature that doesn’t match any standard fusion precedent. Mr. Harver flagged it last night."

Selah’s chin came up. "And?"

"I’m not here about the sprite." Joan turned back to Soren.

"I’m here because a second-year student fell down a staircase with a shadow trace on his clothes and a memory gap the medics can’t explain. A kitchen froze over at three in the morning from a point source that doesn’t match the ventilation record. And your corridor produced a minus-eleven reading that Mr. Harver called unclassified."

She listed it all in one flat breath with no pause.

"What would you like to know?" Soren asked.

Joan rolled the cryo-sensor once between her fingers and held it still.

"I’d like to know why your dormitory has the highest anomaly density in the east wing," she said. "By a significant margin."

"We have active bonded beasts," Soren said. "Anomalous readings are standard."

"The shadow trace on Mr. Harrak is not standard."

He didn’t answer.

Joan watched him not answer and wrote something on her tablet without looking down.

"Your beast," she said. "The wolf. She’s Rank C?"

"She had an accelerated evolution."

"I know." Joan looked at Grimm. "Cole’s report is thorough."

The wolf hadn’t moved since Joan started talking.

"She’s quiet," Joan said.

She made another note. She still hadn’t asked to come in and he still hadn’t offered.

"I’ll be in the building through the end of the review window," she said. "If you identify any anomalies in your vicinity during that time, I’d appreciate a direct report."

She held out a plain white card with the Bureau crest and a channel number. "Voluntary cooperation is weighted in my assessment."

He took the card.

She gave him one last look that felt like she was cross-referencing something in her head, then turned and walked down the hallway toward the stairwell.

He closed the door.

Selah was already on her feet with both hands at her sides and frost crawling up the back of her neck into her hairline.

The shirt had slipped off one shoulder and the cold made her nipples press hard against the thin fabric.

"She knew," Selah said.

"She suspects," Soren said. "She doesn’t have proof yet."

"What’s the difference?"

He looked at the card in his hand. "The difference is she came to the door instead of filing a formal charge. She wants me to make a move. She’s waiting to see what I do."

Selah stepped in close before he could finish the sentence.

Her chest brushed his arm and the frost on her skin sent a sharp chill straight through his sleeve while the rest of her stayed warm and soft.

She grabbed the front of his shirt with one fist.

"Then don’t give her anything to see," she whispered, voice low and rough. "Stay right here. With me."

Grimm pressed her head hard against his leg.

He put his hand on her ear but his pulse was already hammering somewhere south of his brain because Selah’s thigh had slid between his and the hem of that damn shirt had ridden up high enough that bare skin touched bare skin.

[DING! — Joan Sawyer has deployed 4 crystalline surveillance nodes in Corridor B4. Detection threshold: sub-0.1°C temperature variation. Mana void sensitivity: active. Duration: 72 hours.]

[DING! — Bonded entity Yara Hale has detected surveillance nodes. Status: analyzing.]

Soren looked at the notification and then at the wall where the shadow sat a little too still.

"Don’t touch them," he said to the wall.

The shadow moved once, like a slow breath.

"I know what she is," Yara’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere, quiet enough that only he could hear it. "She’s very good."

He looked at Selah.

Selah looked at the wall.

"So are we," Selah said, but she didn’t step back. Instead she pressed closer, hips rolling once against his like she was daring the wolf to do something about it.

[DING! — Quest timer: 18 days to Fracture. 27 days to Obsession cap collapse.]

[DING! — Obsession Index — Yara: 49/50. Selah: 16/50.]

[DING! — Soul integrity: 76%. Spiritual Friction aggregate: 26.]