Saphira carefully packs away her toiletries and belongings into her case before stepping back into the living room. She moves to the sofa and sinks into it, letting out a quiet breath as her gaze sweeps across the space.


    It’s bare-sterile, almost. The stark white walls and absence of windows give it an enclosed, almost detached feel. The light wooden flooring offers the only semnce of warmth, apanied by the minimal furniture ced throughout the room.


    The sofa,rge enough to fit three people, sits facing a firece with a t-screen television mounted above it. To her right, the open-n kitchen stands tucked neatly into the space, simple and functional. To her left-the bedroom. The ce Niks had vanished into. Finally, behind her, the hallway leads back to the entrance, with the bathroom just off to the left.


    It’s small. Compact. But despite its limitations, there’s a quiet cosiness to it-one that, under different circumstances, might even feel inviting.


    Saphira’s gaze lingers on the spot where Niks had disappeared, the darkness on that side of the room deeper than anywhere else. He must have removed the lights-deliberately shrouding himself in shadows. The thought unsettles her. Why go to such lengths to remain unseen? If he simply wanted to avoid recognition, it made little sense-after all, they were stuck together for ten days. And if he nned to kill her, what difference would it make whether she saw his face or not?


    She shakes off the thought. There’s no point dwelling on it now.


    Turning her attention to the sofa, she pulls the cushions to one side, preparing to settle in. As she moves, she realizes-there’s no nket. A frown tugs at her lips as she scans the room, hoping to spot one somewhere. She gets up, checking around the apartment, searching every corner she can think of. But there’s nothing.


    With a sigh, she resigns herself to sleeping without one. Hopefully, it won’t get too cold.


    Returning to the sofa, she curls up, wrapping her arms around herself in a poor attempt to keep warm. Closing her eyes, she wills herself to sleep, even as unease settles deep in her bones.


    Saphira wakes with a start, her mind snapping back to her reality. She scans the room, confirming that she is still where she had been the night before-still alive.


    As she shifts upright, the silence remains unbroken, and yet, something is different. A nket is draped over her. She hadn’t had one when she fell asleep. A small warmth lingers on her skin, a stark contrast to the cold tension that had gripped her the night before.


    Niks must have ced it over her.


    The thought unsettles her more than it reassures. He had been close-close enough to reach her, to cover her, and yet she hadn’t stirred, hadn’t sensed a thing. If he had wanted to kill her, it would have been effortless. So why hadn’t he?


    Would he still do it, despite Jed’s protection?


    The question gnaws at her, tangled with confusion. Why had Jed felt the need to protect her in the first ce? Unless he had some ability to foresee that she would be paired with Niks. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have warned her?


    Saphira exhales, trying to shake the thought, but it lingers, heavy in the quiet.


    She rises from the sofa, stretching slightly before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. She washes her face, the cool water helping to chase away the lingering grogginess, then brushes her teeth, savouring the small act of normalcy.


    Turning to her case, she selects a knee-length dress for the day. It’s not as if her choice of clothing will make much of a difference in this ce, but for the first time, she can wear what she wants without worrying about stains from cleaning products-or the so-called idents Ruby had a habit of causing.


    Saphira finishes getting ready quickly, packing her belongings away before stepping back into the living room. She ces her things neatly in the corner, ensuring everything is in order, then makes her way to the kitchen.


    Her eyesnd on the coffee machine and the half-empty box of pods beside it. Niks must drink coffee too.


    A small thought lingers-this is the only way she can think of to thank him for the nket. It’s a simple gesture, but perhaps it’s enough.


    She gets to work, making two cups, careful not to take too long. When they’re ready, she sets her own on the coffee table before picking up the other and heading toward the bedroom door.


    Hesitation creeps in as she stands there. She doesn’t want to anger him, but he needs to know it’s here.


    After a moment, she decides to leave it on the small table by the door. It’s the safest choice. Whether he takes it or ignores it-well, that’s entirely up to


    him.


    Saphira steels herself, forcing the hesitation from her mind. Come on, stop being a baby. Just say it and get it over with. What’s the worst that could happen?


    She lightly knocks on the door first, feeling oddly nervous despite the simplicity of the gesture. “Sorry to bother you, I’ve made you a coffee. It’s just on the table by the door,” she calls out, loud enough to be heard but not too forceful.


    Then, without waiting for any kind of response, she hurries back to the sofa, sinking into the cushions and gripping her own cup. Silence lingers. No movement, no reaction. Did he hear her? He must have-most supernatural beings have enhanced hearing.


    She keeps ncing toward the bedroom, waiting, watching. But nothing.


    She’s nearly finished her coffee now, and his cup must be growing cold. Should she knock again?


    Before she can make a decision, the bedroom door creaks open.


    Her breath catches. She looks up-expecting to see something, anything-but, once again, there’s nothing visible. The space remains unnaturally dark, as though the shadows themselves bend to him.


    Saphira’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his cold voice. “Are you trying to drug me, or poison me?”


    The usation catches her off guard, her mind scrambling to process the unexpected question. She hadn’t even considered that he might assume such a thing.


    “No, of course not,” she answers quickly, her tone firm but startled.


    “Why should I believe you?” he snaps, his words sharp and biting. “Others have tried before, so why not you?”


    Saphira’s patience frays. Seriously, what is this guy’s problem? Not everyone is out to get him.


    “Well, for one, it was meant as a thank you,” she retorts, her voice steady but edged with frustration. “I assume the nket was from you. Secondly, I have no idea what you are, and if I wanted to drug or poison you effectively, I would need that information.”


    She catches the faintest sound-a chuckle, perhaps? She isn’t sure, but it’s enough to make her pause.


    He doesn’t respond, instead retreating back into his room, leaving the coffee.


    Saphira exhales, her gaze lingering on the abandoned cup. Clearly, he doesn’t want it. After his usation, she decides to wait before retrieving it. She doesn’t want to risk anything.