Jade
Logan’s braced above me, one hand planted beside my head, the other wrapped around my waist. His weight cages me in, the heat of his body sinking into mine, anchoring me as the forest spins.
The ground is damp beneath my back, twigs digging into my skin.
But all I can focus on is the searing imprint of Logan’s hand at my hip, flexing against my waist like he’s fighting the urge to either pull me closer or push me away—maybe both.
And his eyes… they aren’t cold anymore. They’re wild and haunted, like he’s seeing something he thought he lost, like I’m a ghost who came back to life.
“You’re alive,” he breathes, the relief in his voice not matching his original stone-cold warrior persona at all.
“You saved me.” My words come out as a whisper, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears. “That thing—its teeth—they weren’t protected like they were supposed to be. You saw it, too, right?”
“I did.” His grip tightens on my waist, then loosens, then tightens again in the exact same spot.
For a second, his eyes lack focus, like he’s internally calculating something.
And suddenly I’m aware of every point of contact—his palm burning through my clothes, his arm brushing my face, and his thighs pinning me down.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline. Maybe it’s the fact that I almost died and he appeared out of nowhere like an avenging angel.
Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me like I’m something fragile and precious he almost lost. Maybe it’s the way his entire body vibrates with barely contained energy, like he’s one wrong move away from combusting.
Or maybe it’s because he’s the first person in my life who’s looked at me like I matter—not my last name, not my connections, but just me.
I don’t think. I just move.
My hand finds the back of his neck, and I pull him down, crashing my lips against his.
His body goes rigid, then relaxes, then goes rigid again, and for a terrifying second, I think I made a horrible mistake. That I misread everything. That he’s going to shove me away and—
A sound tears from his throat, something between a growl and surrender.
And then his hand’s sliding into my hair, his fingers finding the spot at the nape of my neck that makes me shiver, the kiss deepening with desperate urgency.
It’s messy and consuming, like we’re trying to prove we’re alive, that this moment is real, that monsters and magic and near-death aren’t enough to stop whatever spark ignited between us.
For what must be well over a minute, we’re all desperate hands, racing hearts, and barely controlled power that makes the air around us shimmer with heat—
Then he rips himself away so suddenly I gasp, cold air rushing in where his warmth had been seconds before.
“No.” He’s on his feet in a heartbeat, backing away as if I tried to kill him instead of kiss him. His chest heaves, his hands shake slightly before he clenches them into fists, and he’s watching me like he committed an unforgivable crime.
“Logan?” I push myself up on my elbows and force myself to stand. “What’s wrong?”
He drags both hands through his hair, pacing in a tight circle like a caged animal. “Nothing. Everything. I shouldn’t have—” He cuts himself off, pressing his palms into his eyes. When he drops them, there’s something in his expression that looks like defeat. “That was a mistake.”
The words slice through me like ice water. “A mistake?”
“Adrenaline. Near-death experiences. It’s a common physiological response.” The words come out too fast, like he’s reciting them from a textbook. “Forget it happened.”
“That wasn’t just adrenaline—”
“Yes, it was. Almost two solid minutes of it.” The words are cold and final, and he practically sprints toward the clearing, through the shimmering walls which apparently only work one way, leaving me standing in his wake with my lips tingling and my mind spinning.
Because what the hell? He’s as insane as the others. A different brand of insane, but insane, nonetheless.
Not knowing what else to do, I hurry after him, anger burning through the confusion. By the time we reach the others, I’m ready to grab him and demand answers, but the scene in front of us stops me short.
The Hydra lies in pieces, all heads severed and cauterized. Kieran stands among the carnage like a statue, arms crossed, his gaze locked on Logan with lethal precision.
“You interfered.” Kieran’s voice is quiet. Dangerously quiet.
Logan’s shoulders tense, but his reply is steady. “The wards on its teeth malfunctioned.”
“The wards don’t malfunction.”
“They did today.” He stiffens, his eyes fixed on Kieran. “Check for yourself.”
Kieran gives Logan a look that implies he’s about to prove him wrong, strolls over to the Hydra’s head that nearly killed me, and pulls its massive lip up to reveal its teeth.
His eyes harden as he examines what’s in front of him.
Then, slowly, he reaches forward and touches one of the teeth, his head tilting like he’s analyzing a science experiment.
Finally, he releases the lip and turns back to Logan. “The wards malfunctioned,” he confirms. “Good work. A promising first day as proctor.”
Logan nods in response, refusing to look at me.
The dismissal stings my soul.
Nina, on the other hand, is watching with hawk-like focus, her eyes darting between Logan and me. It’s like she’s noting everything—the dirt on my skin, the state of Logan’s clothes, the leaves tangled in my hair, and the fact that Logan refuses to acknowledge I exist.
Then Sam walks forward, clutching his arm. “Does anyone know how to reset a shoulder? I think I dislocated mine. Along with…” He pauses to examine the cuts and bruises on his body. “Well, at least I’m not dead, I guess.”
“Don’t worry!” Evie appears at his side, bright and happy, although from the way she keeps glancing at the Hydra’s head that nearly killed me, she’s spooked out of her mind.
“Nana’s fixed worse. She once reattached someone’s hand after a Mirror Vault accident.
Too many reflected flames, not enough spatial awareness. ”
Mirror Vault? Reattaching someone’s hand? What the hell is she talking about?
My old life—college rejections, disappointed parents, fake friends, cheating ex-boyfriend—suddenly seems beautifully simple compared to this insanity.
Not to mention it didn’t include mysterious, life-saving proctors who kiss like they’re trying to burn the world down, then act like touching me might kill them.
“Performance assessments,” Kieran’s voice slices through the air, bringing me back to focus.
He’s no longer focused on the Hydra—the malfunctioning wards seem to have already been forgotten—but on us, although I’m shaking too much from what just happened to pay complete attention.
“Starting with Evie. Field leader potential. Natural tactical thinking.”
Evie beams, glowing with the orange-yellow fire that dances across her skin.
“Vera.” His gaze shifts. “Brutal efficiency. Refined control. You know how to end a fight quickly.”
Vera smirks, satisfied.
“Garrett.” Kieran’s tone drops. “Flashy but inconsistent. Power without precision is just noise.”
Garrett deflates, shoulders slumping.
“Sam.” Kieran’s eyes narrow. “Intelligent but prone to panic. All the knowledge in the world means nothing if you freeze.”
Sam stares at the ground, cheeks burning.
“Nina.” Kieran pauses. “Efficiency, precision, and excellent observational skills. No wasted movement, no wasted energy. Impressive.”
Nina nods once, sharp and contained.
Then Kieran’s eyes land on me. “Jade...” He tilts his head, studying me like an unfinished puzzle, and my heart pounds as I wait for what I assume will be a less than stellar review. “Unclear.”
“Thanks?” It comes out more question than statement.
“It wasn’t a compliment or an insult. Simply an observation.” He turns toward the cave, as if I’m already gone from his mind. “Now, the portal awaits.”
“Portal? What portal?” I look around at the others, knowing I sound like a dimwitted parrot, but not particularly caring, given that I almost died ten minutes ago.
Logan’s hands clench at the confusion in my voice, like my ignorance personally offends him. Or maybe he just needs to hit something.
Sam, on the other hand, gives me an encouraging smile. “The fire portal that’ll take us to Blaze Academy,” he offers quickly. “It’s one of the few free-standing portals in the world. You step through the flames and—”
“No. Absolutely not.” I laugh, but it comes out slightly hysterical. “I’ve hit my limit on near-death experiences for the day. There’s no way in hell I’m walking into a magical bonfire.”
They all stare at me with confusion laced in pity.
Garrett crosses his arms as he sizes me up. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he says. “What kind of witch doesn’t know about fire travel?”
“The kind who didn’t know she was a witch until an hour ago.” My words come out defensive, but I’m too shaken to care about protecting my dignity anymore.
Evie steps toward me, as if seeing me closer will help her understand. “But you were invited to Blaze Academy.” She speaks slowly, like she can’t believe what she’s saying. “They only invite the most powerful witches. If you didn’t know you had magic...”
She trails off, looking more confused than annoyed now.
Nina’s been quiet through this whole exchange, but her dark eyes are sharp and calculating. “Question,” she says. “Why would the academy extend an invitation to someone who doesn’t know basic magical knowledge?”
“Maybe they made a mistake.” I shrug. “Maybe they got the wrong Jade Harrington. Maybe there’s another one out there who would actually know what the hell is going on here.”
Logan clenches his fists so hard his knuckles turn white. “The academy doesn’t make mistakes,” he says, unmistakable warning in his eyes.
I throw my hands up in frustration. “Fine. You know what? Maybe the plane did crash. Maybe I’m dead, and this is a hellish supernatural afterlife where I have to fight monsters, travel through fire, and defend myself to people who clearly don’t want me here.”
“You’re not dead,” Logan says, each word sharp and precise.
“How do you know?” I challenge. “Maybe this is witch purgatory or—”
“You’re. Not. Dead.” He takes a deep, controlled breath, like it’s taking everything in him to not shake me senseless. “Trust me on that.”
Wind whistles through the trees around the clearing, and my heart stumbles, caught between fear and intrigue.
Because the way he said those two words—trust me—felt like they were ripped from somewhere deep and dangerous.
The same place that made him kiss me like the world was ending and I was the only thing that could save him.
“Anyway.” Evie claps her hands together, clearly trying to break the tension. “It’s portal time!”
She strides toward the cave, and the others follow.
Vera mutters something about dramatic newbies. Garrett looks like he’s already forgotten I exist. Nina’s staring at me like I’m a fascinating specimen she wants to study. Sam’s still cradling his arm as if it’s about to fall off.
I hesitate, caught between Logan’s controlled chaos and Kieran’s watchful stare.
“Are you coming?” I ask them. Well, I mainly ask Logan. And I hate how much I want him to say yes. How much I want him to follow me through that portal and stop looking like he’s about to explode or implode, possibly both.
“No,” Kieran says flatly. “We stay here.”
“To monitor the next group.” Logan’s eyes are hard and locked on mine. “There are six more first-years taking the trial today.”
“But the Hydra’s already dead,” I point out what should be obvious. “You killed it. We killed it. Whatever.”
I turn to the giant corpse, and the words die in my throat. Because new, fresh flesh is growing along the severed necks. Scales appear from nowhere. One head is already half-formed, and its one eye opens—golden, ancient, and focused on me.
“Oh, hell no.” Cold sweat breaks out across my skin, my body screaming to run before my brain catches up. “Nope. Not doing that again.”
Behind me, Logan says something to Kieran, too low to catch. But I don’t care what it was. I just hurry to catch up with the others at the cave entrance, wanting to be anywhere that doesn’t have regenerating monsters or maddening proctors who look ready to self-destruct.
The cave is huge—large enough to house the Hydra—and it’s dark. Too dark. Dark enough that I’m not sure I’d be able to see my hand if I held it in front of my face.
“So, where’s this magical portal?” I narrow my eyes as I try to see into the darkness, definitely not wanting to be the one to walk in first.
Evie adjusts the pencils in her hair that somehow survived the fight. “It activates once we’re all inside,” she explains. “The fire recognizes when the full group is present.”
“The fire recognizes—” I shake my head, cutting myself off. “You know what? Fine. Why not? Fire that thinks. Sure. It’s no crazier than anything else since I got here.”
Garrett enters the cave first, because of course he does. He’s quickly followed by Vera, then Evie and Sam.
Nina gives me a look that I just know mean she’s daring me to enter first. And since I don’t want to be known as the clueless girl who knows nothing about her new magic and is scared of everything thrown in her path, I give her a small smile and walk forward.
My legs shake with each step, but I keep my chin up. Fake it till you make it, right?
She tilts her head, gives me a look that might be approval, and steps in after me.
The moment her foot crosses the threshold, fire erupts around us. But it doesn’t burn. Instead, it crackles with a beautiful mix of oranges, reds, and yellows, lifting my hair with an impossibly pleasant wind.
It’s nothing like the silver storm when I was in the plane. This feels... welcoming. Like coming home to a place I’ve never been.
“Portal activated!” Sam grins like this is the best day of his life, and suddenly, my body’s being unmade and remade, every atom rearranging itself according to some cosmic blueprint I can’t comprehend. My vision whites out, my pulse deafening in my ears, and I’m burned out of existence.
Maybe I was right. Maybe I am dead.
Then the fire dies out, and the world snaps back into focus, dropping us inside what I assume is Blaze Academy. And despite everything—the monsters, the near-death experiences, and the infuriating proctor who kisses like sin itself—all I can think is that I’m so incredibly screwed.