The lies come easier than they should.
Is this how it starts? One secret to protect someone close to you, then another, then another, until you can’t remember which version of yourself is real anymore?
It must sound believable enough, because Evie launches into a story about how strange Nina was when they were kids, whenher Massachusetts-based coven visited Nina’s coven in New Orleans.
Avery, of course, finds a way to jump in. “Nina’s crush on Oliver was the most transparent thing in existence,” she says with a small laugh. “Right, Oliver?”
“That was a long time ago.” Oliver stiffens, then turns to me. “Dance with me?”
Sensing his discomfort, I let him pull me into the mass of bodies, allowing the music to drown out my thoughts. But as his hands settle on my waist, all I can think about is different hands in a different place. Logan touching me with focused intensity, teaching me control while making me lose it completely.
“You okay?” Oliver’s breath tickles my ear. “You seem distracted.”
Distracted.That’s one word for it.
“Just processing the night,” I say, which isn’t even a lie.
He pulls me closer, and I catch Avery watching us from the edge of the dance floor. The longing on her face makes my chest tighten with guilt, even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
Even though my heart hurts at the knowledge that the only person I want is probably leaning against a wall a floor below, and that the next time I see him, he’ll be back to pretending I mean nothing to him at all.
JADE
The library smellslike dust and old paper, a mustiness that comes from centuries of knowledge slowly decomposing. I’ve been here for basically the entire weekend, and my brain’s exhausted from hunching over ancient texts that make my eyes water.
No internet. No search function. No Logan making an effort to find me and talk to me after what happened at the Drowned Tower.
Evie had no advice about how to find him, and she looked suspicious that I asked at all. And since it’s the weekend, there are no proctor hours set aside for students to talk to him. So, it looks like I’m going to have to wait to seek him out until this week during the designated time slots.
To make it worse, my thoughts keep drifting to him, which is making my research pretty slow going. But after enough time in the mythology section, I figured out what the water mermaids are—Lampades. Twelve books later, I’ve combed through enough sources to confidently say that the Lampades serve Hecate, guide lost souls through the crossroads, and protect witches.
Not one mentions them trying to drown people at parties or having tentacles that can crush stone.
“Finding what you need?”
I jump, nearly knocking over my stack of books.
Miles stands at the end of my table, looking like he stepped out of a catalog for “Dark Academia Aesthetics.” Even his ink stains look intentional.
“Just trying to catch up.” I gesture at my book fortress. “Turns out there’s a lot to learn when you miss the first eighteen years of witch education.”
“Ambitious.” He sets down his own armload of books with practiced ease. “Most first-years stick to the assigned readings.”
“Yeah, well.” I closeSacred Servantsharder than necessary. “I’m not most first-years.”
“No, you’re certainly not.” He studies me for one second longer than is comfortable. “The girl who didn’t know she was a witch until two weeks ago, now deep-diving into obscure mythology texts. Quite the transformation.”
My skin prickles, but I keep my voice light. “What can I say? I love learning.”
The way his head tilts tells me he doesn’t buy it. “What exactly are you looking for?” he asks. “Maybe I could point you toward more relevant sources.”
“Everything, honestly.” I wave around generically, needing to switch the topic fast so I don’t get caught in my lie. “The basics everyone else learned as kids. Magical theory, creature classifications, goddess worship. Did you know there’s an actual worship center here at school?”
“The Trinity Chamber.” He nods. “Although ‘worship’ might be too strong a word. More like... acknowledgment of our connection to the divine.”
“Right.” I fidget with my pencil. “Anyway, what brings you to the library on a perfectly good Sunday night?”
“Research.” He gestures his stack of books. “Working on my end-of-semester paper.”
