Maybe my secret power should be my ability to fuck up every good moment with Logan instead of being an electricity supercharger.
“I didn’t mean—“ I start, but he’s already looking away, jaw tight.
“It’s fine,” he says, but nothing about the way his shoulders have tensed and he refuses to look at me again is fine.
We walk the rest of the way in uncomfortable silence, and I mentally kick myself with every step. We were having a moment. An actual, normal moment where he was teasing me and I was teasing back, and it felt like we could be something other than this impossible secret.
Then I had to ruin it, just like I always ruin everything between us.
When we finally reach the entrance to Phoenix Hall, I expect him to leave. Instead, he just stands there, watching me, waiting.
My blood rushes so fast it feels like it’s trying to erupt out of the nearly healed cut on my arm.
“Tomorrow night.” Logan’s gaze locks on mine. “The Fury Loop. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
His eyes dilate, his lips part, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, right here in front of Phoenix Hall, where anyone could see. Then he’s stepping back, his perfect control sliding back into place.
“Sleep well, Jade. You’ll need it for tomorrow.” He turns and walks away without another word, leaving me standing in front of the door trying to remember how breathing works.
Tomorrow night. The Fury Loop. The circle that amplifies emotions until they burn.
Because clearly, my totally stable emotional state is in desperate need of magical fire therapy.
JADE
The moment Loganand 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 toreleasethem, 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 isrealfire. 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.
