Jade
The Starflare Ballroom steals my breath the moment Oliver and I step through the towering doors.
The space is massive and circular, crowned by a domed ceiling of enchanted crystal that displays the night sky. Stars twinkle and pulse in real time, and I swear I see a meteor streak across the darkness.
But what truly commands attention are the seven fireplaces spaced evenly around the walls.
Each one is enormous—tall enough that I could walk through them without ducking—and each burns with a different purpose. Because the flames in them aren’t just decorative. They’re reactive, alive in ways that make power crackle under my skin.
The nearest fireplace erupts in a shower of purple sparks the moment Oliver and I pass, the flames leaping higher and burning brighter. It’s the same shade of purple as the flames I created with Logan during the sigil ceremony.
“The Passion Fire.” Oliver sounds pleased. “It responds to well… you know.”
To desire. To want. To everything Oliver’s apparently feeling that makes guilt twist in my gut like a living thing.
The flames in another fireplace flicker and dance in perfect time with the orchestra’s melody—it must be the Music Fire.
Another, which I assume is the Memory Flame, shows fleeting images, shadows of past dancers and celebrations.
Near the bar, orange fire flickers irregularly as someone tells what must be a lie—the Truth Fire.
“They each have their own personality,” Oliver explains, even though I already know this from one of Evie’s many rundowns. “The Spirit Flame shows shapes based on emotions, the Revelation Flame shows people’s true feelings, and—“
“That one’s the Unity Flame?” I nod toward the center of the room where a single, perfect flame burns steady and tall.
“If that goes out, the ball ends immediately.” His voice drops. “Bad omen.”
I shiver at the two words, and the Unity Flame flickers, like a candle in a breeze that shouldn’t exist in this enclosed space.
Not wanting to look at it further, I turn my attention to the other students.
Greek gods mingle with fairy tale characters, and mythical creatures dance with historical figures.
Floor-to-ceiling windows between each fireplace offer views of the dark island beyond, while a balcony level above provides intimate alcoves for more private conversations.
Then, I see him.
Logan’s standing near the Revelation Flame on the far side of the ballroom. He’s dressed as some kind of dark prince—black leather and silver accents that make him look dangerous and untouchable.
How is it legal for someone to look that good? The leather fits like it was painted on, and I have to force myself not to stare at the way it moves when he shifts.
Callie’s next to him, clinging to his arm in a siren costume that’s more paint than fabric, her nails digging into his bicep like she’s marking her territory.
When her eyes meet mine, the Revelation Flame flickers, shifting from its steady orange to a flash of deep green. Jealousy, raw and unmistakable. Then, just as quicky, it returns to normal.
“You should stay away from Logan Ashford.” Oliver’s voice has gone hard, pulling my attention back to him. “I don’t like how he looks at you.”
I freeze, the intensity in his tone surprising me. Oliver’s always been easygoing and friendly to everyone. But right now, he sounds almost... threatening.
“How does Logan look at me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
His jaw tightens. “Like he wants to consume every last drop of you.”
Heat floods my face. “No, he doesn’t. Or if he does, I haven’t noticed.” I scramble for words that won’t give everything away. “Speaking of consuming, maybe we should get drinks?”
“Drinks. Sure. Sounds good.” He steers me to the bar and hands me a glass of red wine, looking a lot less happy than he was when we entered the ballroom.
“So,” I say, desperate for safe conversation, “Professor Thaddeus is already recruiting me for his advanced studies course.”
Oliver freezes, his glass halfway to his lips. “What?”
“He approached me after class today and said I showed potential.” I shrug, as if this is an offhand comment instead of something I’ve been thinking about all day. “You’re in the course, right? What do you know about—”
“Don’t.” Oliver sets his glass down so hard that wine sloshes over the rim. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised—don’t accept his invite.”
I blink at the sudden shift of attitude. “Okay, you’re officially freaking me out. What’s wrong with the course?”
“Just trust me.” His hazel eyes have gone dark, almost wild. “It isn’t what you think it is.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
“I can’t.” He shakes his head, his voice firm. “But some doors should never be opened. Some power isn’t worth the price.”
The Truth Fire across the room crackles dark gray, and Oliver’s face goes pale. But before I can push further, the orchestra shifts to a waltz, and someone appears at our table.
“Jade! Oliver!” Alessandra Sterling materializes beside us in a Greek goddess costume, her honey blonde waves crowned with roses, her smile sweet enough to rot teeth. “How wonderful to see you two hitting it off so well.”
“Alessandra.” I try not to sound as thrilled as I feel, which is not at all. “Let me guess—Aphrodite?”
“The goddess of love.” She does a little twirl that makes me want to gag, then helps herself to a glass of wine.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy for you and Oliver.
Especially since other relationships are.
..” She glances at the Revelation Flame, where Logan and Callie have moved closer to each other and are having a heated conversation. “Rekindling.”
Electricity stirs under my skin.
The sphere, I remind myself. Think about the glass sphere, and don’t electrocute the mean girl, no matter how tempting.
“Logan and Callie have been inseparable lately,” Alessandra continues. “Studying in all those cozy library corners, just like old times.”
“Fascinating,” I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “I had no idea you spent so much time watching other people study. That must be really fulfilling for you.”
Her smile tightens. “I’m just observant.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I match her sweet tone. “Because where I come from, we call it stalking.”
Oliver clears his throat. “Ladies—”
But Alessandra isn’t done. “Oh! And speaking of old times...” She gestures at the Memory Flame in a nearby alcove.
The orange fire flickers and shifts, forming shadows of two figures pressed close together, one tilting the other’s head back in an intimate gesture.
“The flames have such wonderful stories to tell, don’t they? ”
The image dissolves before I can study it closer, but the implication hangs heavy in the air.
“Well!” She sets down her empty glass with a crystalline clink. “I should go back to Callie. Can’t leave my emberlinked partner alone for too long.” She turns to Oliver. “You understand how that is. The connection is just so... deep.”
She floats away in a cloud of rose perfume and spite, leaving me wanting to set something on fire. Preferably her. Or Callie. Either will do.
Oliver watches Alessandra leave with genuine confusion splattered across his face. “Why did Alessandra Sterling just come over here to tell you about Logan and Callie?” he asks, suspicion lacing his tone.
“No idea,” I lie, scanning the room for literally anything else to focus on.
Evie’s near the dance floor, laughing at something Felix is saying. Her bronze armor catches the light as she tips her head back, more relaxed than I’ve seen her all night.
But I’m not the only one watching their conversation.
Because Kieran lurks in the shadows near the Spirit Flame, which is twisting and writhing, forming shapes that look like swords crossing in battle.
And when Felix touches Evie’s elbow to guide her to the dance floor, the fire briefly forms what might be a fist clenching.
Weird. Why’s Kieran looking at Evie like that? It’s almost as if—
“It’s good to see my sister actually enjoying herself for once,” Oliver yanks me out of my thoughts, his gaze softening as he watches Evie with Felix. “Anyway, do you want to dance? Before Alessandra comes back with more poison to spread?”
“Sure.” I absently let him take my hand and lead me forward, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see Kieran stalk back into the shadows.
We barely make it three steps before a vision in scarlet silk blocks our path.
“Oliver!” Avery’s voice is breathier than usual, pitched to carry over the orchestra. Her costume—Cleopatra, if the gold snake armband is any indication—clings to every curve, the dress cut low enough that I find myself looking at the ceiling out of secondhand embarrassment. “You look amazing.”
Beside her, Tyler Brennan stands in a Caesar costume that makes him look like he stepped off a movie set.
He’s handsome in that obvious way—golden hair and a usually perfect smile.
But currently, he’s watching Avery watch Oliver with the resigned expression of someone who knows exactly where he stands in this particular drama.
“Avery. Tyler.” Oliver’s voice is polite but distracted. “Great costumes.”
“We coordinated,” Avery says, although her eyes never leave Oliver’s face. “Tyler suggested it. He’s so thoughtful that way.” She touches Tyler’s arm and smiles up at him.
Tyler’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What can I say? I aim to please.”
“You two make a lovely couple,” I offer, trying to ease the tension.
Avery’s laugh is high and forced. “Oh, we’re just friends having fun. Right, Tyler?”
“Right.” His tone suggests he’s heard this clarification many times. “Just fun.”
Oliver shifts beside me. “Well, we were just heading to dance—”
“Us too!” Avery cuts in, grabbing Tyler’s hand. “We should all dance together.”
“Actually,” Tyler intervenes, “I promised Avery we’d check out the Memory Flame first. She wanted to see if it would show anything from the Founding Ball.” He gives Oliver a look that’s almost sympathetic. “Enjoy your dance.”
Avery throws one last longing look over her shoulder as Tyler guides her toward the Memory Flame.
The defeat in her eyes makes something twist in my stomach.
“Did you see that?” Oliver’s face lights up with enthusiasm. “Tyler’s really stepping up his game with Avery. Good for him.”
I blink at the sudden shift. “Good for him?”
“Yeah, he usually doesn’t put this much effort into anyone. Always coasting on charm alone.” Oliver grins, watching them disappear into the crowd. “But with Avery, he’s actually trying. Bringing her as his date, coordinating costumes… that’s commitment for Tyler Brennan.”
The irony is so thick I could choke on it.
“She keeps saying they’re just friends,” he continues.
“But that’s classic Avery. She builds walls when someone gets too close.
Trust me, Tyler’s perfect for her. He’s laid-back enough not to pressure her, but persistent enough to wear down her defenses.
He’ll have her heart before she realizes it. ”
“Maybe,” I manage, because what else can I say? That Avery’s probably been in love with Oliver since their first year?
“You’re quiet.” He tilts his head, studying me. “Everything okay?”
“Just thinking,” I say, which isn’t a lie.
“Well, stop thinking.” He grins, that easy charm that makes him everyone’s friend flowing back. “We have dancing to do.”
He leads me onto the constellation-mapped floor where people dressed as gods, monsters, heroes, and villains spin together, everyone pretending to be something they’re not.
At least I fit right in.
The orchestra strikes up a new waltz, and Oliver pulls me into position with practiced ease. One hand on my waist, the other holding mine, perfectly proper and perfectly wrong.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, his eyes soft and serious as we begin to move. “Persephone suits you.”
“Thanks.” The word tastes like ash on my tongue. “And you make a great Hades.”
“Without the kidnapping and forced pomegranate eating parts,” he jokes, but it sounds strained, like he knows my heart isn’t in this.
I force a laugh, my gaze drifting over his shoulder to where Logan still stands by the Revelation Flame. Callie’s gone from his side, and he’s watching me and Oliver, his jaw tight, the fire beside him flickering between orange and that deep, dangerous red that speaks of barely controlled fury.
Our eyes meet across the ballroom, and electricity races down my spine.
“Jade?” Oliver’s voice forces me to look away from Logan. “You seem tense.”
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. “Sorry. I…” I trail off, not quite knowing what I was doing. “I’ve always been terrible at waltzes.”
“You’re doing great. Just try to relax.”
Relax. Right. While the man I’m in love with watches me dance with someone else, while Avery’s heart breaks in the corner, while Alessandra is likely off somewhere with Callie planning my demise, and while I pretend to be something I’m not.
Just another relaxing night at Blaze Academy.