Page 47
Instead, a low, desperate sound vibrates from deep in his throat, and his fingers go still inside me. He stays between my thighs for a long, quiet moment, and the tension in his hands shifts from urgency to resignation, his fingers loosening their grip on my hips one by one.
He knows. He can reset as many times as he wants, and my body will wind tighter and tighter, carrying the stacked pleasure of every erased attempt, and it still won’t break. Because the wall isn’t physical. It’s in my head, and his time travel can’t reach it there.
No. Don’t think that. He can’t read my mind. He doesn’t know what the wall is made of.
Still, even if he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, he knows there’s a problem. And really, what else could it be other than you’re a Revenant, I’m terrified about what that means, and it’s tearing me up so much inside that I can’t fully let my guard down around you?
Eventually, he pulls back and rests his forehead against my thigh. His breathing is ragged, his hands gripping my hips as my body thrums with unreleased tension, and we stay there for a few seconds, neither of us saying a word.
Nothing can make this okay, and maybe that’s the scariest thing of all.
So, I reach down and run my fingers through his hair. He turns his face into my thigh, his breath cool against my skin, and my electricity passes through my fingertips into his scalp in a low, tired pulse.
“It’s not you,” I say, praying he doesn’t see through the lie. “It’s just…”
He pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed. Instead of looking at me, he’s focused on the wall, his hand pressed against the rings at his neck in a grip that makes it look like he’s holding himself together by the chain.
I sit up, pull my clothes back on, and wrap my arms around my knees.
Logan lifts one hand, and the orange flames lining the walls thin and sink into nothing. The night sounds of Pine Valley rush back in—the hum of the wards, the wind against the cabin, a wolf howling somewhere far off—and the return of the ordinary world makes what just happened between us feel officially over.
“Tomorrow’s going to be dangerous,” he says, his eyes staying focused on the wall. “Your magic was running at full power during the ritual tonight, and then there was the feeding on top of that.” He pauses, his thumb tracing the chain at his neck. “That’s exhausting for one night.”
I stare at the side of his face, wanting to agree with him. If I don’t, the truth might break him. Not the controlled, precise Logan who strategizes and time travels, but the other Logan. The one who pressed his forehead against my thigh and went still, and who told me that sometimes he wants to remove the ankar token because it might be easier if he felt nothing at all.
“Yeah.” I let out a breath that shakes more than I want it to. “It’s been a lot. The ritual, Hecate, the fire magic… my body’s running on fumes.”
His jaw loosens by a fraction, and I hate myself a little, because the relief that flickers across his expression tells me he needed the lie as much as I did.
“We should rest.” His hand drops from the chain to his knee. “We’re leaving early tomorrow.”
He strips down in silence, his back to me, and the moonlight from the window catches the chain as he pulls his shirt over his head. Muscles shift across his back, his shoulders holding tension in the lines along his spine, and I want him. My body hasn’t stopped wanting him since he pinned me on the ground during the Hydra trial. The wanting is the one thing I’m sure of, but right now, it’s not enough.
When he gets under the covers beside me, we lie there, side by side, not touching, not saying a word.
I want to roll over, press my face into his chest, and let electricity cycle between us in the slow, steady loop that lulled me to sleep last night. I want his arm around my waist and the hum of the rings between our bodies.
Instead, I stare at the ceiling in silence.
“Jade?” Logan’s voice is quiet in the dark.
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t reply immediately, and his breathing is slow and controlled, the way it gets when he’s choosing his words carefully.
“We’re going to be okay,” he finally says, and I close my eyes, my bracelet digging into my wrist where it’s pressed against the mattress.
“Yeah. We are,” I agree, but the words feel forced, and I pray to every god I can think of that he can’t tell, even though I doubt the gods are on my side anymore.
22
EVIE
Kieran’s telekinetic blade control is getting better.
After seeing the destroyed room, Lenore assumed we were doing… well, exactly what we were doing before Kieran’s magic went wild. Which was beyond embarrassing, since Nina’s mom has known me since before I can remember.
Her conclusion was that Kieran needed a release for his war-blood. That’s how we ended up spending the past two days in the Bayou Sauvage, just outside of New Orleans. It’s the largest urban wildlife refuge in the country, and it’s where the wolves who guard the New Orleans coven live.
