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We strip down to our undergarments in silence, and when he pulls the covers back, we get in. The sheets are cool and clean, and as his arms find me again under the quilt, my body fits perfectly against his, the way it always has.

Everywhere my electricity hums low and steady against his skin, I feel him react. Small shifts, quiet breaths, and the faintest tension and release in muscles that are responding to a current only my magic can provide. His arm tightens around my waist, his hand spreads flat against my stomach, and I lay my hand over his, holding it there.

“Logan?” I say into the darkness, and from the way his arms tighten around me, I know he’s waiting for me to continue. “Thank you for not rewriting tonight.”

“I almost did,” he admits, and the honesty makes my breath catch. “When you froze, my fire was already building. But I heard your voice in my head, telling me you wanted your moments to be real, and I let the fire die.”

My electricity pulses once, hard and involuntary, and my eyes sting.

“I’m glad you let it die,” I whisper.

His arm tightens, and I close my eyes, letting my electricity settle into the low, steady hum that means my body has decided it’s safe enough to rest. It cycles between us in slow waves, from my skin into his and back again, and each pass loosens a muscle I didn’t know I was clenching.

His hand is still flat against my stomach, and the rings are pressing against my spine, warm from the heat our bodies are building under the quilt.

Tomorrow, I’ll face Ruby and pretend everything is fine. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to find a celestial weapon I didn’t know I needed.

But tonight, I asked Logan to let my moments be real, and he did.

Even when it hurt us both.

19

JADE

I wake up with Logan’s arm around my waist, his rings pressing against my spine, and the bone-deep certainty that I slept better than I had any right to.

Sunlight’s cutting through the curtains in warm, golden stripes, and for about three seconds, everything feels normal. Then the wards hum, and I remember where I am, and the three seconds of normal evaporate.

I’m in Pine Valley. In Ruby and Connor’s guest room. With a Revenant spooning me under a hand-stitched quilt.

Good morning, guilt. I missed you for those three entire seconds.

By the time we’re dressed and walking into the kitchen, Ruby’s already there. She’s standing at the counter with two mugs of coffee and a look on her face that says she’s been awake for a while.

“We need to talk about your celestial weapon,” she says, skipping straight past good morning.

“I don’t have a celestial weapon,” I remind her as I accept the coffee. “We established that last night when I put the plain steel dagger Kieran gave me on the coffee table and everyone politely agreed it wasn’t divine.”

“Which is exactly why we need to talk about it.” She leans against the counter, her turquoise eyes bright and serious. “When it’s time to face Ambrogio, all four of us need to stand together, and all four of us need our weapons. You can’t be the only champion who shows up empty-handed.”

Logan leans against the doorframe, his expression the neutral, attentive mask he wears in public.

I focus on Ruby, since Logan doesn’t seem like he’s going to be much of a help right now.

“Any ideas on how I’m supposed to fix that?” I ask her.

She chews her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she admits, setting her mug down. “Like I told you last night, every goddess has a different method. But Pine Valley isn’t just a wolf pack anymore. It’s a sanctuary for every supernatural who needs one. Someone has to know how to help a star touched find her weapon, especially since your goddess has apparently opted for a hands-off approach.”

“Who do you have in mind?” I ask.

“Our coven leader Thalia took over after the Blood Coven was pushed out of Pine Valley two years ago,” she says. “If anyone can help us figure out how to find your weapon, it’s her.”

I know from my classes at Blaze Academy that every wolf pack has a witch coven. Witches created shifters in the Dark Ages to protect themselves from vampires, so the bond between pack and coven is as old as shifter magic itself.

Pine Valley’s coven isn’t a guest in this town. They’re the reason it was built.

We finish our coffee, then head out. Ruby leads us down a path behind the main road, past a cluster of cabins and toward a cottage sitting just off the tree line. It’s stone and wood, and there’s a garden out front full of herbs that I’m probably supposed to know from my studies, but couldn’t name for the life of me.