“The Obsidian Caves.”
The creepy underground lava tubes on the side of the volcano. Of course. Because why would witches ever throw a party somewhere normal, like a common room or a beach?
“And we’re going because...?”
“Drunk people talk.” Logan starts walking, and I fall into step beside him. “With the Council breathing down our necks, I need to know what rumors are spreading. Who suspects what. Who’s been questioned, and what they said.” He glances at me, his expression downright devious. “Forge parties are where secrets spill.”
“You want to spy on our classmates.”
“I want to protect us.” His jaw tightens. “If someone witnessed anything on Halloween that they haven’t reported yet, I need to know before it becomes a problem.”
“Great,” I mutter. “We’re going to a party to eavesdrop on our drunk classmates and identify targets for your supercharged mind-control powers. Sounds like a blast.”
He shoots me a look that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Just try to blend in. Act normal.”
“Am I really capable of ‘normal?’”
“No.” He doesn’t break his stride. “Just don’t electrocute anyone.”
I look down at my training clothes—fitted black pants and a tank top. “Fine,” I give in. “But I’m not exactly dressed for a party.”
“You look great.”
“Easy for you to say. You always look like you stepped out of a magazine spread forBrooding Supernatural Monthly.”
His lips twitch. “That’s not a real publication.”
“It should be. You’d be on every cover.”
We eventually emerge through an exit that deposits us on the northwestern slope of the volcano. The crack in the rock is barely visible in the darkness, just slightly darker than the shadows around it. If I didn’t know to look, I’d walk right past it.
“Wait.” I grab Logan’s arm. “Should we stagger the times when we go in so people don’t see us arriving together?”
He goes still.
“Why would we do that?”
“Because...” I gesture vaguely between us. “People will talk? The proctor showing up with the least powerful first-year to a Forge Party?”
His expression turns dark and possessive, and my pulse quickens.
“We’re going in together.” He steps closer, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear that got caught in the wind. “Yes, they’ll see us together. Yes, they’ll talk. I want them to. I want them to know that if they accuse you of anything, they’ll answer to me.”
Oh.
My heart flips, and my skin goes hot despite the wind cutting across the slope.
I should probably have a problem with this. Should probably remind him that I’m capable of taking care of myself, that I don’t need a protector, and that the possessive alpha male thing is a red flag the size of a football field.
But I’m tired of carrying secrets that are crushing me, and the idea of Logan standing beside me feels less like ownership and more like safety.
“Okay,” I manage. “Together it is.”
His hand finds the small of my back as we approach the crack in the volcanic rock, and the touch sends electricity sparking through my veins. It’s the non-magical kind—mostly.
The path is narrow enough that Logan and I can’t walk side by side. But then it opens up, and I forget about the discomfort.
Because the Obsidian Caves are stunning.
