“My hero,” I deadpan, but warmth creeps through me despite myself.
Evie also seems fascinated by the mark on Oliver’s wrist. “Who did you emberlink with?” she asks him.
“Avery.” He gestures toward the third-year table. “Speaking of, I should probably get back to her before she sends a search party.”
I follow his gaze to see a pretty blonde watching our table. When Oliver waves, her whole face transforms with a smile.
“See you later, E.” Oliver stands, dropping a kiss on top of Evie’s head. “And Jade? Don’t worry about tomorrow. Kieran’s bark is worse than his bite.” He pauses. “Actually, no, that’s a lie. They’re both pretty bad. But you’ll survive.”
“Comforting,” I mutter, but I’m smiling despite myself.
He heads back to his table and sits next to Avery, who immediately angles her body toward him like a flower seeking sun.
“What’s emberlinked?” I ask, watching them.
“Oh!” Evie perks up, clearly thrilled to have something else to explain. “Third-years get to pick magical partners—their fire literally links together forever. It’s a huge deal, and most everyone spends almost all of first and second year trying to figure out who they want to partner with.”
“Wow.” I glance back at Oliver and Avery. “So, are they...togethertogether?”
And who’s Logan’s partner?I think, although of course I don’t ask. I don’t need anyone thinking I’m more obsessed with him than they already do.
“It’s frowned upon for emberlinked pairs to be romantically involved.” Evie brings my focus back to her. “It can mess with emotional—and therefore magical—balance. But...”
“Avery’s completely in love with him,” Felix finishes. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
He’s right. The way Avery leans into Oliver’s space, how her hand finds excuses to touch his arm, the soft look in her eyes—it’s painfully obvious. If the two of them entered the Emberhearth together, the flames would blaze purple and shoot straight up to the rafters.
But before I can ask anything else, the chandeliers flare brighter, their flames angling toward the elevated head table like spotlights.
Headmistress Constance rises from her seat, and the room falls silent.
“First-years.” Her voice rolls through the space, quiet and commanding. “It’s time for you to meet your instructors.”
JADE
“First,your Applied Flamecraft professor, Kieran Cross.” Constance gestures to where Kieran sits to her left. “Who you’ve already met.”
The chandeliers drift lower, flames brightening to spotlight Kieran, who’s dressed in the same black fighting outfit he wore during the Hydra trial that leaves little of his lean, sculpted body to the imagination.
He leans back in his seat, lifts his chin slightly in acknowledgment, and scans over our table, assessing each one of us in what feels like a second. His hard expression gives away none of his thoughts.
“Next, Professor Thaddeus Morgrave,” Constance continues, and a man rises with genuine enthusiasm, silver threading through dark hair that curls slightly at his collar.
“Fire Philosophy and Practices,” he says, his voice warm. “We’ll explore the connection between emotion and flame, the difference between reacting and casting. Because magic isn’t just power. It’s understanding yourself and empathizing with others.”
The flames in the nearest chandelier soften to a gentle glow.
“Notice how the flames respond to my calm?” he asks. “Fire mirrors the soul. A witch who masters their emotions masters their magic. Those who let emotion control them...” He glances meaningfully at the flickering flames. “Well, the fire reveals all truths.”
“Thank you, Professor Morgrave.” Constance nods for him to take his seat. “Now, onto Professor Lydia Rousseau.”
The woman who rises makes everyone else look like they rolled out of bed five minutes ago. Her sleek red hair is twisted into a perfect chignon, and her embroidered robes look like they were handstitched by a Parisian dressmaker she probably has on speed dial.
“Pyropsychology.” Her French accent transforms the word into something elegant and slightly terrifying. “We begin with emotional mirroring and empathetic casting. By year’s end, you’ll fully understand how fire and mind interconnect, and how your own emotions may become the weapon you fear most.”
Dread sinks into my stomach at the ominousness of that last part.
Constance gives her a nod, looks to the person next to Lydia, and continues, “Professor Delia Carver.”
