Jasmin's POV
The Academy stretched endlessly before us, a maze of corridors and chambers that seemed to mock my growing unease. For nearly an hour, I had led Swift through training halls, weapon vaults, and stone passages that echoed with centuries of warrior history. My explanations fell into the silence like stones dropped into a well.
He never responded.
Not once.
His footsteps tracked mine with unnerving precision, always maintaining that careful distance. Close enough that I could sense his presence like a weight against my spine, yet far enough to avoid suspicion. The measured cadence of his breathing, the whisper of fabric as he moved, the phantom heat of his attention.
He wasn't studying the Academy's architecture or memorizing routes to important locations.
He was studying me.
