Jade
It’s been three days since Logan and I gave everything to each other in the Fury Loop, and he’s found creative ways to torture me every night since.
Control your electricity while I’m inside you, he commanded last night, pinning me against the scorched floor. Don’t let a single spark escape until I say.
The memory makes heat pool low in my belly, and I have to focus on keeping my magic contained as I walk into the dining hall for breakfast. Because apparently, that’s my life now—trying not to electrocute people while daydreaming about my secret boyfriend’s very thorough teaching methods.
“There’s my favorite witch.” Oliver’s voice pulls me from my thoughts as he slides an arm around my waist. “Ready for tonight?”
Right. The Halloween ball. The event I agreed to attend with Oliver while the man I’m in love with watches from across the room.
My stomach churns at the thought.
“Can’t wait,” I manage, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. Because even though Oliver Thorne is gorgeous, charming, and exactly the kind of guy I should want, he’s not Logan. Which makes every casual touch feel like a betrayal.
“You two are disgusting,” Evie teases as she approaches, but there’s something off in her tone, and her eyes don’t quite meet mine.
Does she know? Can she sense the lie I’m living?
Avery trails behind Evie, shooting daggers at me that could rival my electricity, and the chandeliers overhead flare to life.
Across the hall, the light above the fourth-year table pulses as well.
Logan.
My eyes find his, and the world narrows to just us.
The way he holds himself this morning—controlled violence barely leashed—makes him look devastating.
His dark hair falls across his forehead as he leans back in his chair, the picture of casual indifference, but I know better.
I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers drum against the table in a rhythm that matches my heartbeat.
His gaze drops to where Oliver’s arm wraps around my waist, his knuckles whitening as he grips his coffee mug.
The intensity in his storm-gray eyes is just he had last night when he made me balance on the edge of release for what felt like hours, whispering in my ear about all the things he wanted to do to me once I learned proper control.
The memory sends electricity skittering along my spine, and I have to look away so I don’t light up like a human sparkler.
The sphere, I remind myself. Contain it in the glass sphere.
As always, it works.
I take a deep breath, centering myself. “We should head to our tables,” I say, needing distance from Oliver’s casual affection before the sphere cracks and I accidentally shock him.
Or before Logan sets him on fire from across the room, which looks like a real possibility right now.
Oliver turns so we’re facing each other. “I know you’re nervous about tonight,” he says, his eyes soft and full of understanding. “First official event as my date and all.”
His date?
I still, frozen in place. He doesn’t think I’m his girlfriend because of this, does he?
Gods, I hope not. But he’s watching me, waiting for me to say something, so I reach for the simplest, most obvious response ever.
“I’m not nervous,” I lie.
“Your hands are literally shaking.” He catches one, steadying it. “But it’s just a dance. No pressure. We’ll have fun, I promise.”
The gentle way he holds my hand makes the guilt worse. Because he deserves someone who wants to be with him—not someone who’s counting down the minutes until she can sneak away to meet someone else.
“If you two are done making the rest of us nauseous,” Avery interrupts, and I’ve never been more grateful for her timing in my life, “we need to get to our tables now.”
Oliver releases me reluctantly. “I’ll see you after morning classes. We can go over costume details one more time.”
“Right. Costumes.” I’d almost forgotten we’re supposed to coordinate. He’s going as Hades, which makes me Persephone. “Sounds great.”
As we walk away, I risk a glance at the fourth-year table again. Logan’s not looking at me anymore, but I can still see the tension in his shoulders and the white-knuckled grip he has on his coffee mug.
“You okay?” Evie asks as we take our seats. “You seem... distracted.”
“Define ‘okay.’” I reach for the coffee like it might somehow solve all my problems and pour myself a cup.
“Oh, I don’t know. Not looking like you’re about to throw up every time your boyfriend touches you?”
I choke on my coffee. “He’s not my—it’s not like that.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Her eyes narrow slightly, but before she can push,
Logan rises from his seat at the fourth-year table, and the dining hall falls silent as he moves to the front of the room with that perfect grace that makes my electricity want to explode out from under my skin.
His voice carries easily through the hall, commanding attention without effort.
“Firstly, all afternoon specialty classes are canceled today to allow extra preparation time for tonight’s Halloween ball,” he says, and a cheer goes up from the tables.
“Also, the first-year duels that were supposed to be tomorrow will be postponed until next week.”
His eyes find mine for a split-second across the room, and the look he gives me is molten and full of promise.
Because this means we’ll have another week of training in the Fury Loop.
Another week of him pressing me against scorched stone walls, whispering commands in my ear while my body trembles with the effort of containing my magic.
“Questions?” His voice cuts through my extremely inappropriate thoughts, and when no one speaks up, he nods. “Good. Then I’ll see you all tonight.”
I’m filtering out of my final class before lunchtime when Professor Thaddeus’s voice stops me at the door.
“Jade—a moment of your time?”
“Sure.” I move back inside, trying not to look like I’m wishing I was already halfway to the dining hall, about to stuff my face with a grilled cheese sandwich that most first-years hate, but I find delicious.
He leans against his desk, his fingers absently playing with that fancy silver pen he carries everywhere.
“I’ve been observing your progress with great interest,” he begins, and my stomach tightens, since observation is never good when you’re hiding something. “From having no knowledge of your magical heritage to winning two of Kieran’s duels in such a short time... it’s quite remarkable.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I’ve had good teachers.”
“Indeed.” His fingers trace the pen again. “Which is why I’m considering you for my advanced study program next semester.”
The words hit me like a splash of cold water. “What? Why?” Then, realizing how ungrateful that sounds, I add quickly, “I mean, I’m flattered, but why me?”
“You have raw talent. Unrefined, perhaps, but exceptional nonetheless.” He straightens, moving to the window.
“You’re exactly the kind of student I look for.
Someone who doesn’t accept limitations, who pushes boundaries, and who works hard to make up for what she lacks in previous formal education. ”
My magic stirs under my skin at his backhanded compliment, electricity humming with nervous energy.
The sphere, I remind myself. Think of the sphere.
“This pen,” he says suddenly, lifting it to give me a clearer look. “Was a gift from my grandfather, who also believed in pushing boundaries. He taught me that true power comes from understanding ourselves completely—our strengths, our supposed limitations, and the magic others might fear.”
My heart pounds. Is he talking about my electricity? Does he know? How could he know? I’ve been so careful, making myself small so no one can witness how charged I can get—
“Speaking of understanding,” he continues, “how are you progressing with the text I gave you?”
Shit.
The book. The one with the storm goddess inside who looks so much like T. The one I should be devouring for answers but instead let collect dust while getting a very different kind of education in the Fury Loop.
“I started it,” I manage, the lie tasting sour. “But with all the coursework...”
“You haven’t opened it.” It’s not a question, and the disappointment in his voice makes me want to sink through the floor.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have. I’ve just had so much on my plate recently.”
“Students in my advanced program must be committed to reaching their full potential.” His voice carries a weight that feels heavy on my shoulders. “Magic—true magic—requires dedication beyond the standard curriculum.”
The nervous energy inside me builds, electricity crackling along my nerves. It’s pushing against my control, desperate to arc between my fingers, to show him exactly what kind of true magic I’m hiding.
“Maybe I’m not the right candidate,” I blurt out, but he cuts me off with a sharp look.
“Talent like yours doesn’t simply disappear because it’s ignored.
” His gaze pins me in place. “I know potential when I see it, and you have more than you realize. You wouldn’t have won two duels already—and come close to winning a third, if what I’ve heard around these halls is correct—if you didn’t.
Now, tell me,” he adds, his voice dropping lower, “do you believe we choose our path, or does it choose us?”
I blink at the sudden change of subject and take a moment to contemplate his question, remembering everything that’s happened to me since the near plane crash in the silver storm. “I think sometimes we don’t get a choice at all,” I finally say. “Sometimes things just... happen to us.”
“Interesting perspective.” He studies me for a long moment. “And what do we do when things ‘just happen’ to us?”
“Try not to die?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He actually smiles at that. “Indeed. Which is why I believe you’d benefit from individual tutoring sessions. Shall we say Thursdays, after regular classes?”
My heart sinks.
Thursday tutoring means less time for everything else. When am I supposed to breathe?
But I can’t say no. Not without raising questions. And maybe, just maybe, if Thad knows something about my electricity and is trying to help me in his own subtle way, these sessions will give me answers I desperately need.
“That would be great.” I force a smile that definitely isn’t convincing. “Thank you.”
“Excellent. We’ll begin next week.” He makes a note in his planner.
“Do try to finish the reading before then. I think you’ll find the chapters about mortals who were feared for powers that defied classification to be particularly…
illuminating. History has a way of repeating itself, don’t you think? ”
“For sure.” I nod, gathering my things with shaking hands.
Because it definitely sounds like he knows something, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Not to mention that I don’t know when I’ll find time to read the entire book, but it’s going to have to be a tomorrow problem, for after I survive the Halloween ball from Hell.
“Oh, and Jade?” Thad calls as I reach the door. “Be careful tonight. Strong emotions have a way of bringing out aspects of ourselves we’d rather keep hidden. Especially in places designed to judge authenticity.”
“What do you mean, ‘places designed to judge authenticity?’”
“I mean that the fires in the Starflare Ballroom reveal truths, whether we want them to or not.” His eyes hold mine. “I’d hate for you to be caught off guard.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I glance around the room, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “I’ll see you next week!”
It comes out too cheery. Way too cheery.
“I’ll see you far before next week,” he says with a half-smirk.
I do a double take. “What?”
“The Halloween ball,” he says slowly. “The professors attend, too.”
“Right.” I smile again. “Of course.”
Luckily, I’m saved from further embarrassment by Nina walking into the room.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She pauses in the doorway. “I was just hoping to speak with Professor Thaddeus.”
“All yours,” I manage, sidestepping her.
She catches my arm as I pass.
“A word of advice about tonight?” Her dark eyes are serious. “If you’re hiding anything, be extra careful. The Starflare Ballroom has a way of revealing what we most want to keep hidden.”
My entire body tenses. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She releases my arm, then gives me a close-lipped smile. “I’ll see you around, Jade.”
Her gaze follows me as I leave, and I can’t shake the feeling that the walls are closing in.
Because Thad seems to know something. Nina suspects something.
Evie’s being remarkably chill about my nightly rendezvous with Logan.
Callie and Alessandra likely still want to kill me, and given Avery’s jealousy, she’s probably dying to become the third member of their I hate Jade Harrington club.
Plus, I don’t know how I can get through the Halloween ball with Oliver while Logan watches.
On the other hand, I’ve already survived Hydra attacks, Lampades trying to drown me, magical duels in the Scorched Circles, Hecate’s four torturous trials, and Fury Loop sex so intense it probably registers on the academy’s seismic wards.
How hard can one dance possibly be?