Jade
The passages are colder than normal tonight.
I’ve been sitting on a crate of stolen food, my back against the rough stone wall, rearranging my rings so much that my fingers would swell if I didn’t have accelerated healing.
In a few hours, I’ll be on a boat—not a ship, not a yacht, but a boat—sailing through monster-infested waters while I run from the Council, the academy, and everything I’ve known since T dropped me into this insane world.
But that’s not the craziest part. Because three months ago, I was an Ivy League reject with a trust fund and no direction. Now I’m a fugitive with lightning in her veins and a boyfriend who can rewind time, and somehow, this is the version of my life that makes more sense.
Finally, footsteps echo from down the passage, and I’m on my feet, electricity crackling at my fingertips.
“It’s me.”
Logan rounds the corner, bringing the smell of cold night air and smoke, his eyes finding mine in the flickering torchlight.
My electricity dies, no longer on high alert.
“I was starting to think they caught you.”
“I had to make sure no one was following.” He closes the distance between us, and suddenly he’s right here, close enough that I can see the sharpness in his face and the shadows under his eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Ready to sail into almost certain death? Ready to leave behind Evie, Felix, Nina, and everyone else who might care if I live or die?” I ask, although I hesitate for a second, unsure how Nina got onto that list. “Sure. Let’s go commit maritime suicide. Sounds fun.”
Logan’s expression shifts, the careful mask he wears developing a crack. “Speaking of your friends, there’s been a complication.”
My chest tightens. “What kind of complication?”
“Evie put it together that I already knew about your lightning magic, since we’ve been training together in the Circles.
” He holds up a hand before I can spiral.
“She went to Kieran for answers, and he brought me to her. It turns out she and Kieran were already planning to leave and search for Oliver. So now, they’re coming with us. ”
For a moment, I just stare at him, waiting for a punch line.
It doesn’t come.
“Evie’s coming with us,” I deadpan. “On a boat into the monster-infested sea.”
“Yes.”
“And Kieran Cross, who threatens us with blades before breakfast, voluntarily teamed up with my bookworm roommate.”
“Where Evie goes, Kieran apparently follows.” The dryness in his tone is almost human. “We also need someone who can sail and navigate, whose family has connections with the group that’s going to help us.”
A cold feeling spreads through my chest. “Who?”
“Callie Bennett.”
The name hits me like a slap.
“Callie,” I repeat flatly. “Your ex-girlfriend Callie. The one who refuses to take off your promise ring and looks at you like she wants to devour you whole. That Callie.”
“Her family’s been teaching her how to sail since she could walk,” Logan says, staying carefully neutral. “And Helen’s group trusts the Bennetts.”
My electricity crackles so much along my skin that I’m surprised my shirt doesn’t singe. Because of course it’s Callie. Of course the universe couldn’t give me a terrifying sea voyage without adding the one person guaranteed to make me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.
I want to demand that we find literally anyone else. But the logical part of my brain knows he wouldn’t do this without it being a last resort option that he truly believes will keep us alive.
“Fine.” I hate the word the moment I speak it. “But if she tries anything…”
“She won’t.” Logan cups my face, tilting it up to force me to meet his eyes. “Callie’s coming because we need her skills. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I chose.”
“I know.” And I do. Mostly.
“I love you,” he says, like it’s the only truth that matters. “No matter what I have to do or become to keep you safe, I need you to remember that.”
“I love you too.” I hold his gaze for a beat, then raise an eyebrow.
“Even though you’re dragging me onto a boat with your delusional ex-girlfriend, my roommate who I’m keeping the world’s worst secret from, and a combat instructor with more knives than friends who once made a student cry just by looking at him. ”
His mouth twitches, and he takes a step back. “Kieran made a student cry?”
“Kieran makes everyone cry. It’s basically his hobby.”
“Not everyone.” He gives me a boyish smile—a rarity from Logan—and shoulders two of the supply bags like they weigh nothing.
“Of course not.” I grab the remaining bags and blankets. “Logan Ashford, immune to all human emotion. How could I forget.”
His smile fades, and the mask clicks back into place, as if I said something wrong.
“Ready?” He turns away from me, looking out at the passage that stretches ahead of us—dark, cold, and smelling like wet stone.
“No.” I reach for his hand, and the second our fingers touch, a spark jumps between us, sharp and silver. His breath hitches, and just like that, the Logan I know and love is back. “But let’s go anyway.”