Jade
The moment Logan and I step inside the Fury Loop, every thought, every want, and every hidden feeling inside me sharpens into something dangerous.
The air itself is charged with emotion, pressing against my skin like a live wire trying to find ground.
My heartbeat syncs with the pulse of the circle, faster and harder, until I can feel it everywhere—behind my eyes, in my fingertips, and in the space between each breath.
My feelings are rushing through me faster than I can process or comprehend, boiling with so much pressure that I need to release them, so I can free myself of them and feel some semblance of control again.
Logan’s eyes burn untamed and raw, mirroring the storm brewing inside me.
“Weapons out,” he commands, already drawing his blade.
I pull my dagger from its sheath, the leather grip familiar in my palm. But the weapon feels different here. Heavier, like it knows the circle is demanding blood—whether physical or emotional.
Logan’s eyes sear into mine as we circle each other, and the electricity beneath my skin responds, crackling harder than usual, begging for release.
He strikes first with a controlled arc of fire that I dodge, but he’s already moving before I can strike back, his blade sweeping toward my ribs.
I parry just in time, the clash of steel ringing through the circle.
The impact jolts up my arm, anger shooting through me as fire erupts from my free hand.
I freeze, staring at the fire in awe. Because this isn’t my usual matchstick flame. This is real fire. Orange, wild, and actually impressive for once. It’s fire worthy of a student who deserves their spot at Blaze Academy.
Logan’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Good,” he says, immediately in control of himself again. “The Loop is drawing out your fire. This is exactly what we need to help hide your electricity.”
His voice is too controlled, and I hate it. I hate that he can stand here and talk about hiding my magic when all I want is let everything explode.
But I’m not going to stand here and let him make me feel small. So, I let the hate rush out of myself, urging the orange flames to grow until they’re dancing higher than my head.
He does the same, fire illuminating his face in bursts that make his eyes flash with oranges and reds.
It feels less like training, and more like foreplay set to the rhythm of steel and flame.
Then he catches me with a sweep of his leg, and I’m falling, and he’s following me down, pinning me to the stone ground with his body, his blade at my throat.
“Dead,” he says, but there’s nothing professional in his voice now. Because in this position, with his hips pressed against mine, I can feel just how much he wants me. Hard, insistent, and undeniable.
Neither of us moves, both caught in this impossible moment where his careful boundaries threaten to shatter. Then something dark crosses his face, and he pushes himself up, offering a hand to help me stand.
I glare at him and take it, and he pulls me forcefully to my feet, bringing us chest to chest. Time feels like it stills, and I grip his hand tighter, daring him to give in to the fire burning between us.
“Again.” He steps back, but his voice is rougher now, his jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack.
This time when we clash, his fire burns hotter, and his blade moves with less restraint.
He’s punishing himself. Or maybe he’s punishing me for making him feel things he doesn’t want to feel.
For being the chaos he can’t control, the unpredictable variable in his perfect equations that refuse to balance.
Eventually, he disarms me with a move I should have seen coming, then uses his body to drive me back against the circle’s edge. His hips pin mine again, and the air around us hums with our combined magic, silver electricity tangled with his roaring flame that’s blackened at the edges.
“You’re angry,” I goad him, the frustration inside me wanting him to react instead of staying locked away. “What’s wrong? Did the perfect Logan Ashford finally realize he’s not as in control as he wants to be?”
“Stop talking about my control and focus on yours,” he growls, his hands gripping my wrists too tightly, his body pressed too close.
“Hard to focus when you’re—“
“What did Oliver want you to think about?” His question comes out of nowhere, sharp as a blade between my ribs.
“What?” I blink up at him. “Are you seriously bringing up Oliver when you have me pinned against a wall?”
His jaw clenches. “I’m bringing up yesterday before I walked you back, when he told you to think about something.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, incredulous and maybe a little hysterical. “That’s what’s got you so worked up? Oliver Thorne asking me to think about something?”
“Answer the question.” His grip on my wrists stays tight.
“He asked me to the Halloween ball.” I meet his eyes steadily, in clear challenge. “As his date.”
Logan goes completely still. The kind of stillness that comes before a storm.
“And?” The air pulses around him, like he’s going to lose it if he speaks another word.
“I haven’t answered him yet.” The words taste like ash, since this morning, Oliver told me he decided to be generous and give me another day to make my decision.
Logan’s eyes go distant for a second. It’s that strange blankness I’ve noticed before, like he’s somewhere else entirely. Then he blinks, and when he looks at me again, his expression is carefully neutral.
Somehow, that indifference hurts worse than anger ever could.
“You’re considering saying yes.” His fire burns brighter, orange bleeding into black at the edges. “So, tell me, Jade. Is there something going on between you and Oliver Thorne?”
My flames die as rage takes their place, electricity surging harder.
“There’s nothing other than him pushing for an answer about the stupid dance.
But at least he’s clear about what he wants.
At least he doesn’t make me feel like some dirty secret he’s ashamed of.
At least he doesn’t make me guess every single night before I go to bed if I matter or not. ”
Logan stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which, honestly, maybe I have.
“You think you don’t matter to me?” His voice is dangerously quiet now, and more fire erupts around his hands, white-hot, making the air shimmer around him. “After everything I’ve done, you think you don’t fucking matter to me?”
“How am I supposed to know?” My own anger rises to meet his, silver light racing up my forearms like liquid lightning. “You kiss me like I’m everything, then treat me like I’m nothing. Gods forbid you allow yourself to feel instead of putting up your damn walls over and over and over again.”
“You don’t understand—“
“Because you won’t let me!”
Pain flickers in his eyes—or maybe guilt—but his walls stay in place.
“This isn’t about what I want.” His voice is carefully controlled now, all traces of emotion locked away. “It’s about what’s best for you.”
“Don’t you dare decide what’s best for me. I’m not a child.”
“No. You’re a first-year with dangerous magic who doesn’t understand how many people would use you if they knew what you could do.” Something that looks like self-hatred flashes across his face, although it’s gone a second later. “There are some lines that protect you by not being crossed.”
“Protect me from who?” My voice rises again. “From the Council? Or from whoever killed Miles?”
Fire erupts around the entire fighting ring, and the temperature in the circle spikes so high that the air warps around us.
The edges burn black, and the flames are crackling so loudly it’s like they’re trying to drown out every other sound in the world.
They’re reflecting in Logan’s eyes, and the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to light me on fire, too…
“I’m sorry.” My voice comes out small, guilt rising inside me at how I used Miles’s death to hit Logan where it hurts. “I shouldn’t have said—”
“When Alessandra cornered you in the Drowned Tower, I stepped in before your electricity could kill everyone at the party.” The black-lined flames dance around his hands as he steps closer.
“I saved your life when we fought the Lampades. I stopped your magic from showing itself more times than you could possibly know. I guided you through all four of Hecate’s trials so you could gain access to the passages and train with me each night. ”
The memory of his voice in my head, guiding me through that nightmare, makes my chest ache.
“I’m teaching you control so your power stays hidden.
” The fire around the edges of the Fury Loop flares higher.
“I’ve kept you close enough to protect, but far enough to keep questions at bay.
I’m going to keep doing that, and right now, it’s by telling you to say yes to Oliver and go to the ball with him. ”
“What?” I blink, unsure how we got back to Oliver and that damn Halloween ball. “Why?”
“Because it’s the safest option for you, since it’s the obvious option. And when you make an obvious move, people notice you less.”
He watches me closely, as if he expects me to simply be okay with this.
“You realize you’re asking me to let another man put his hands on me, right?” My voice shakes, electricity crackling along my arms. “To dance with me. To maybe try to kiss me.”
“Yes. But my parents died because someone noticed them.” His voice drops, and the black-lined flames dim to regular orange. “I won’t let that happen to you.”
The words hang between us, heavy and final.
Then something in me just... breaks.
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” My chest feels too tight, like there’s a scream building that wants to escape. “The ball is days away. We can figure out something else—”
“No.” His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that steals my breath away. “I want you to do this. But don’t think for a second that it means you don’t matter to me—or that I don’t love you.”