Jade
The stone bridge stretches before us like a dare, barely three feet above the churning black water. Moonlight catches the wet edges where waves have already started claiming the path, and my boots slip on the first step.
“Careful.” Oliver’s hand finds my elbow, steadying me. “High tide’s in four hours. Plenty of time, but the bridge gets slippery.”
I eye the gaps where stones have crumbled away over centuries. “You weren’t kidding about the drowning part.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” He grins, clearly in his element. “Besides, the tower’s worth it. Five stories of ancient stone, a flooded bottom floor, and—“ his voice drops dramatically, “—haunted by the ghosts of students who didn’t make it back before high tide.”
“Comforting.”
“Don’t worry.” Avery appears at Oliver’s other side, threading her arm through his with practiced ease. “The ghosts are friendly. They just move things around, blow out candles, whisper warnings about the tide...”
She’s trying so hard. The way she leans into him, how her laugh comes a beat too quick at his jokes, and how she tosses her hair over her shoulders to make herself look breezy and cool.
Oliver doesn’t notice any of it.
“Some doors only open for the worthy ones who know the right words.” His hand stays on my elbow as he guides us across a particularly treacherous section of the bridge.
“And the torches never go out. They’ve been burning since the academy was founded a thousand years ago, even through storms that should’ve drowned them. ”
We continue chatting as we make our way across the bridge toward the looming tower, a black finger pointing at the stars. Windows glow with warm light, and music thumps from within.
“Nice bracelets, by the way.” Oliver gestures to the matching gold chains Evie and I are wearing, each with a small flame charm. “You two are adorable.”
“Jade made them,” Evie says proudly. “She’s incredibly talented.”
“Of course she is.” The way Oliver looks at me makes heat creep up my neck. “Beautiful and artistic. Dangerous combination.”
Avery’s grip on his arm tightens, but when he steadies her, his focus remains on me.
We finally reach the tower entrance—a massive wooden door leading to the third floor that looks like it’s been waterlogged and dried out a thousand times. Inside, stone steps spiral both up and down, lit by those impossible torches. The music is louder here, mixing with voices and laughter.
“Bar’s on the roof,” Oliver announces, leading us up two stories of worn stone steps, past doorways revealing glimpses of dancing bodies and flickering flames.
The roof is packed. Music comes from portable speakers that look decades old, and the bar seems to be literally made of fire, bottles suspended in the flames without burning.
“What’ll it be?” he asks, already heading over.
“Surprise me.” I scan the crowd, trying not to seem like I’m looking for anyone in particular.
Then I see him.
Logan’s leaning against the far railing, Callie right next to him. She’s talking intently, gesturing with one hand while the other rests next to his arm on the railing. His face gives nothing away, but there’s a tension in his shoulders, and a tightness around his eyes that speaks of—
“Here.” Oliver presses a glass into my hand, full of something pink and smoking. “To your first Forge Night.”
I blink a few times to center myself, forcing myself to not glance over at Logan and Callie again.
“To not drowning,” I counter, clinking my glass against his.
Avery and Evie join us with their own drinks, and we stand in an awkward square, the music not quite loud enough to prevent conversation.
“Dance floor’s better on the fourth level,” Avery suggests, glancing between Oliver and me.
My gaze drifts to where Callie’s now leaning toward Logan, her head practically resting on his shoulder. Irritation buzzes through me, way more than is logical given the short time I’ve known Logan.
But how long I’ve known him doesn’t matter. Because feelings, unfortunately, aren’t always trumped by logic. And my feeling right now is that I don’t want to stand here seeing this.
The best part? I don’t have to stand here seeing this. Not only do I not have to stay anywhere I don’t want to in general—besides classes, of course—but Avery’s given me a perfect out, and she doesn’t even realize it.
“Let’s go.” I drain half my drink, letting it burn down my throat, and follow Oliver downstairs.
The fourth floor is exactly what I need—dark, loud, and crowded enough to lose myself in what’s happening around me.
The torches here burn lower, creating moving shadows that make everyone look mysterious.
Oliver pulls me into the crowd without hesitation, and I let the music take over, leaning into the buzz floating through my veins from the nearly finished drink.
He’s a good dancer. Confident without being showy, keeping just enough distance to be respectful, while also making it clear he’d close that gap if I wanted. Avery hovers nearby, dancing with Evie but constantly orbiting back to us.
“Your brother’s popular,” I shout to Evie over the music after the fifth person comes up to greet Oliver.
He leans toward me. “Perks of being genuinely nice!” he says, managing to pay attention to me while greeting one of the other guys. “I know, weird concept at Blaze.”
I laugh, and for a moment I forget about gray eyes and complicated kisses. Because this is simple. This is fun. This is what I need.
Then I spot Miles.
He’s standing against the wall, watching me with that same calculating look from lunch. When our eyes meet, he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t even pretend he wasn’t staring.
“I need to find a bathroom,” I tell Oliver between songs.
“Third floor, back corner, on the opposite side of the tower from where we came in,” he says. “Want me to come with?”
“I think I can manage.”
The third floor is quieter and emptier, and the bathroom is indeed in the back corner, past a nearly empty room with worn out couches and down a narrow hallway lit by those eternal torches.
I’m halfway there when footsteps echo behind me.
My shoulders tense, electricity prickling under my skin. If Miles followed me…
But when I glance back, the hallway’s empty. Just shadows, firelight, and my imagination running wild, like it loves to do sometimes. Well, let’s be honest—like it loves to do all the time.
The bathroom is basic but clean, which is a small miracle for a partially flooded ancient tower. I splash water on my face, trying to cool the flush from dancing and drinking and pretending I don’t care who Logan’s pressed against on the roof.
Focus on the guy who’s actually available, I remind my reflection. The uncomplicated one. The one whose friends don’t stare at you like you’re a science experiment, and whose maybe-girlfriend doesn’t glare at you like she wants to kill you.
My reflection doesn’t look convinced.
And when I exit, the hallway isn’t empty anymore.
Alessandra Sterling—Callie’s emberlinked partner—leans against the wall, studying her manicured nails with casual elegance.
Everything about her, from the honey-blonde beachy waves to the way she makes designer clothes look effortless, is exactly what my mother always wanted me to be and everything I never was.
“Jade Harrington. Just who I was hoping to find.” Her voice drips Southern honey. “We need to have a little chat.”
“Do we?” I try to step around her, but she mirrors my movement with practiced grace.
“Oh, I think we do.” She guides me toward a dim corner, and I’m just curious enough to follow. “See, I couldn’t help noticing you watching Callie and Logan on the roof. That look on your face? Well... it was just heartbreaking to witness.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Why were you watching me?”
“Because when you’re emberlinked, everything that affects your partner affects you.” She tilts her head, her warm brown eyes studying me. “Callie’s happiness is my happiness. And you?” That perfect smile never wavers. “You’re making her unhappy.”
“I’m not doing anything. Logan and I have barely spoken since—“
“Since the first day?” She examines her nails again. “But that’s not entirely true, is it? Everyone saw him almost approach your table at lunch today. It was all very… dramatic.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “He changed his mind and went back to his table.”
“After taking several steps toward you, yes.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“But I need you to understand something, Jade. Logan’s been warming up to Callie again this year.
They’ve been spending so much time together.
Private sessions. Late night talks. Working through their past. It’s really quite romantic. ”
My chest tightens, but I take a deep breath, steadying myself so it doesn’t look like her words sting. “Good for them.”
“Is it?” Her laugh tinkles like crystal. “Because those purple flames during the sigil ceremony? Bless your heart, that must have been so embarrassing.”
Each word is delivered with that same sweet smile, but they land like poison darts.
My hands clench into fists.
“You know,” she continues, adjusting an invisible wrinkle in her dress, “Callie was there when Logan’s parents died. She held him through the worst of it and helped him piece himself back together. They have real history. The kind of history that matters.”
“What’s your point, Alessandra?”
“My point?” She blinks innocently. “I’m just trying to help.
You’re new here, and you don’t understand how things work.
So, let me explain in simpler terms. Logan and Callie always find their way back to each other.
And you? Well...” She gives me a pitying look.
“You’re nothing but a first-year with a crush on him. ”
I clench my fists tighter, trying to push down the electricity crackling under my skin. “You don’t know anything about me.”