“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?Howcould he know? I’ve been so careful, making myself small so no one can witness howchargedI 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 oftrue magicI’m hiding.
“Maybe I’m not the right candidate,” I blurt out, but he cuts me off with a sharp look.
