“We should.” But he doesn’t move either, his thumb still tracing my cheekbone like he’s memorizing the feel of it.
The torchlight flickers around us, casting shadows that dance across the stone walls. And somehow, in this chamber of ancient magic and sacrificed memories, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
Which is dangerous thinking, given that I still have to shove my hand into soul-burning fire and spirit travel to the Underworld.
Better to get it over with than to stand here avoiding it… no matter how goodavoiding itfeels with Logan so close to me.
“The third bowl?” I force myself to step back, breaking the spell. “Pain endurance?”
“The River Phlegethon.” He lets his hand fall, but the heat in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Are you ready?”
“Tell me what to do.”
JADE
“The Fireof Phlegethon burns differently than normal fire,” Logan explains, positioning himself beside the third bowl. The liquid inside glows orange-red, like molten metal. “It attacks the soul, not the body. You’ll feel it everywhere.”
“Comforting.” I stare at the glowing surface, already feeling phantom heat crawling over my skin.
My electricity crackles in response.
“The pain will feel personal.” His eyes are haunted, as if he’s speaking from experience. “Like it knows exactly where you’re already wounded and is aiming straight for those spots.”
“So, what’s the trick? How do I survive a full minute of soul torture?”
“There’s no trick.” He moves behind me, close enough that I can feel his warmth against my back. “Just endurance. But I’ll count for you, and I’ll be right here, anchoring you the entire time.”
I swallow hard and flex my fingers, trying to psych myself up. “Okay,” I say. “Just stick my hand in the torture bowl and let it burn my soul for an entire minute. Easy. No problem.”
“Jade—”
“I’m joking.” I’m not. But when have I ever been ready for anything at this cursed academy? “Let’s just do this before I lose my nerve.”
Before he can reply, I take a deep breath and plunge my hand into the molten liquid.
The pain hits like a freight train to the soul, a scream tears from my throat, and the ground moves beneath my feet.
“I’ve got you.” Logan’s arms wrap around my waist, holding me upright. “It’s been five seconds so far. You’re doing great.”
Great? I can’t even scream properly. And it’s only beenfive seconds?
The fire races through me like electricity in reverse, tearing instead of energizing. It finds every doubt, every fear, every moment I’ve hated myself, and sets them ablaze.
“Ten seconds.” Logan’s breath is warm against my ear. “Focus on my voice. Just my voice.”
But focusing is impossible when my soul is being flayed. The fire finds the rejection letters, the friends who abandoned me, the boyfriend who broke up with me via text and replaced me the next day with the girl I thought was my best friend. It finds the parents who only loved my potential. The sister who was everything I wanted to be but never was. It burns through every moment I’ve felt worthless, bringing them to the surface until they’re the only things that are real anymore.
“Fifteen seconds.” Logan’s voice echoes in my mind, and I’m miraculously able to take a breath that doesn’t char my lungs. “You’re so strong, Jade. Stronger than you know.”
My free hand claws at his arm where it wraps around my waist, needing something real to hold onto as I drown in fire, every breath scorching my lungs until I’m not sure I can breathe anymore.
“I’m here,” he murmurs, and somehow, it’s like he’s shielding the deepest parts of me from the worst of the burn. “Twenty seconds. Almost halfway.”
Halfway? A hysterical laugh bubbles up from my throat. Because I’m going to die. My soul’s going to be burned to ash by dead witch fire while Logan holds my disintegrating body.
“Look at me.” He moves around me, keeping me steady the entire time, and turns my face toward his with his free hand. “Eyes on mine.”
His storm-gray eyes are steady and certain in a way that cuts through the pain. An anchor in the agony. And somehow, impossibly, meeting his gaze lessens the burn. Not the pain—that’s still excruciating—but the feeling that I’m disappearing into it and will never rise again.
