The word hangs in the air like a lit match near kindling.
Evie places her pen down, takes a deep breath, and chimes in. “The Council has enough to deal with when it comes to cleaning up the messes left by shifters and vampires,” she says. “As fellow witches, it’s our responsibility to follow the laws created by our kind, to ensure stability between species. If even one exposure goes wrong, it risks unraveling centuries of progress. The Council’s not perfect, but it exists for a reason. Order protects everyone—magical and human alike.”
I look between the three of them in shock, trying to process everything they’re saying. “You’re talking about erasing someone’s entire relationship. Their choices, their memories, their love?—“
“Love that could put people at risk,” Garrett interrupts. “Not just the witch, but their coven. Their family. Every supernatural in their town or city.”
Nina’s eyes blaze. “So, today human-witch pairings are unacceptable. Tomorrow it’s witches from feuding covens. Next week they’re arranging marriages for bloodline purity.”
Garrett leans forward, glaring like he wants to scorch her with his stare. “That’s completely different?—”
“Is it?” She doesn’t flinch. “Once they decide they have the right to control who people love, where does it stop?”
Felix fidgets with his pen, tapping it against the table and leaving tiny scorch marks on the brass. “What about all thetimes it’s gone wrong?” he asks. “Humans who’ve learned about magic… it usually ends badly.”
“Says who?” Nina challenges. “The same people doing the memory wipes? How convenient that all evidence of successful human-witch relationships gets erased.”
Garrett slams his hand on the table, sparks of fire flying up from beneath his palm, and everyone looks to him. “That’s how we’ve stayed hidden for centuries,” he argues. “Memory modification keeps us safe.”
“Safe from what?” Nina shoots back. “From humans who might accept us if they were given time to process the truth instead of being forced in front of Council members who tamper with their memory and do gods know what else to them? Maybe we’re living in fear of dangers that barely exist anymore because the Council benefits from keeping us isolated and afraid.”
“That’s conspiracy theory nonsense,” Garrett says. “The Council protects us. They maintain the treaties between species, they keep the peace?—”
“And they keepcontrol,”Nina interrupts.
The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken accusations. Several students won’t meet Nina’s eyes. Vera’s knuckles have gone white around her pen. Evie’s stopped taking notes.
Thad claps once, breaking the tension. “Excellent discussion,” he says, paying extra attention to Nina and Garrett. “For next week, I want two pages on where you would draw the line with using compulsion. Use historical examples from the Council Archives to support your position.”
My head spins as I write down the assignment.
Historical examples. From archives I’ve never seen, about a Council I learned existed five minutes ago, that’s either concerned about witches or controlling of them, depending on who you ask.
Great. Just great.
As we pack up, Thad adds, “Remember that these aren’t just theoretical exercises. Many of you will face these exact dilemmas after graduation, since the Council’s enforcement division actively recruits from Blaze Academy. Which brings me to one more thing: at the end of the semester, I’ll be selecting three first-year students for my advanced study group.”
The energy in the room shifts immediately. Garrett straightens in his seat. Evie’s hand stills on her bag zipper. Nina watches Thad intently, sizing him up like she does to anyone around her.
“It’s a small seminar,” Thad continues, his gaze lingering on Nina, then Garrett, then Evie. “We dive deeper into the philosophical implications of fire magic and explore texts that aren’t widely available.” His eyes find mine next, and I resist the urge to look away. “Previous members have gone on to positions in magical law enforcement, inter-species relations, and advisory roles in various covens.”
Jobs. Right. Because apparently after learning magic exists, surviving death trials, and debating mind control ethics, I’ll need to update my LinkedIn with “Fire Witch” as a skill set.
“Selection is based on demonstrated potential,” Thad adds. “Not just magical ability, but depth of thought. The willingness to question, learn, and maintain an open mind while navigating difficult circumstances.”
Garrett’s jaw tightens. He’s probably calculating exactly how many ass-kissing papers he’ll need to write… and who he can bribe to write them for him. At least that’s what my ex, Chase, would be doing, and the two of them remind me a lot of each other.
Thad waves us off with a casual gesture. “That’s all for today. Remember—two pages, historical examples, due next Tuesday.”
The scramble to leave is loud and undercut with competition. Shoulders bump harder than necessary. Eyes flick sharp with calculation.
As I grab my things, I try to process this new information. A mysterious advanced study group. Restricted texts. Jobs. I didn’t know what I wanted to do after Yale, let alone afterwitchcollege.
Who the hell thought it was a good idea to invite me to attend Blaze Academy? Because it really does seem like they got the wrong Jade Harrington.
“Miss Harrington,” Thad startles me by calling out my name, beckoning me to his desk.
Other students file past, shooting curious glances my way.
