28. Morgan

I glance backat Blaze occasionally as we walk, but his gaze remains fixed on the path ahead, his expression unreadable.

Finally, after what feels like miles, we spot a clearing that seems defensible enough for a night’s rest. The ground is flat, and a few large rocks are scattered around, providing some shelter from the wind. It’s not much, but it’ll do.

“I’ll set up the tent,” Blaze says, grabbing the sack attached to his pack. It’s a “Life Tent”—extremely compact to carry around, yet just big enough to fit two people inside.

Two people.

Blaze and I are sharing a tent tonight.

I obviously knew this before we set off. But I was trying to take everything one step at a time.

It looks like the next step is going to be sharing a tent with Blaze hours after he saved my life, kissed me, and was rejected.

I already wasn’t prepared for the awkwardness of sleeping next to him all night, but this just made it a million times worse.

“It won’t take me long,” he says, already starting to put the tent together. “Do you want to prepare the food while I do this?”

“We should cast a protection circle around us first,” I tell him.

“Sure.” He places the tent—well, it’s more like a tarp—on the ground, and looks to me. “What do you need me to do?”

I snap to attention, glad to focus on something I know I can do well.

“I’m going to cast the circle, and I’m going to make it extra strong with your blood,” I tell him.

Normally, my sisters and I make our circles extra strong with our blood. But I can’t reveal my blood magic, so his will have to do.

“You know how to do that?” he asks.

“Yes.” I can’t help but be slightly annoyed. Does he think that just because I needed his help today, I’m now incapable of using magic?

“Okay.” He backs up, surprised by my response. “I just didn’t know if you knew how to do it with blood magic, since it’s a new thing to you and all. How do you even know it’ll work?”

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” I say, the lie quickly slipping off my tongue. “I’m going to improvise. And I figure it can’t hurt to try.”

He watches me, studying me, and fear crawls into my throat at the possibility that he suspects me.

“All right,” he finally says after a few terrifying moments of silence. “Tell me what to do.”

I give him a small smile, looking forward to working together on something again.

From the hardness of his expression, I’m not sure he feels the same.

“Take out your dagger,” I say, and I remove mine as well, look up to the starry sky, and begin to chant, “Hear us, Hecate, goddess of witchcraft. Safeguard our ritual tonight, for it is wrought with power and peril, born of truth and fire.”

Normally I’d say “blood,” instead of “fire,” but it also works this way, and I need to keep up the pretense of being a regular witch by doing the more traditional spell.

“Now, put your blood on the tips of both of our daggers. We’ll use them to trace the circle.” I hand him mine, which he uses to slice his palm before doing the same with his.

“How’s that?” he asks, holding it out for me to inspect.

“It’s perfect.”

In silence, we drag the tips of our blades across the dirt. When we’re done, flames leap up from the circle, creating a barrier and searing it into the ground. It’s a small circle, but it’ll do for the night.

The light of the fire dancing across Blaze’s face makes him look so dangerous, so mysterious. For a moment, I’m only aware of the tension crackling between us that feels like it’s about to explode with a single breath.

But I have more important things to do than get torn up about my feelings for Blaze. So, taking my place in the center of the circle, I connect my magic with the fire around us, and finish the chant.

“Guarded by flame and guided by starlight, we protect this sacred space, an unbroken circle, bound by fire and by blood.”

The flames around us pull the fire out of my soul, using my magic to fuel its protection. I’ll be weakened for a few hours because of this, making me vulnerable to anyone else inside the circle. Which, in this case, is Blaze. But I trust him, and casting the circle will give us a good night’s sleep without worry of being attacked.

The fire pulses three times, the air shimmering as it settles into the ground.

“The circle is cast,” I tell Blaze, disappointed to find that he looks as closed off to me as ever.

“Does that mean I can get back to setting up the tent?” he asks, his emotionless tone all but stabbing me in the heart.

“Sure. I’ll get started on the food.” I turn away from him and remove two of the pre-made meals from my pack, using my magic to heat them up.

We don’t start a traditional campfire. All it will do is draw attention from whatever’s out there. Plus, thanks to our fire affinity, Blaze and I have enough heat inside of ourselves to stay warm.

I should tell him about my blood magic, I think again as I’m finishing up the food.

But I’m hungry. And tired. And the emotional energy it’ll take to explain everything to him is too much to deal with right now. I’m strong, but even I have a point where I’ll start to break.

So, we eat in silence, then get ready for bed.

When I’m done getting ready, Blaze finishes setting up the tent.

I stiffen when I see the finished setup.

I knew the tent was going to be small, but this will be way more cramped than expected. It has barely enough room for both of us to lie down without touching.

“Don’t worry,” Blaze says. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Blaze,” I say, hating the bitterness in his tone.

But his back is already toward me as he crawls into the tent.

So, unsure what else to do, I step in after him, the tarp brushing my shoulders as I make my way inside.

“Night,” he says, and he rolls over to face away from me.

“Night.” I lay down next to him, having no choice but to press my back against his so I can face away from him.

The closeness is immediate and undeniable. Heat radiates off his body, and I’m aware of every shift, every breath.

The events of today should have tired us out enough to knock us out quickly. But after about ten minutes, I’m convinced he’s still as awake as I am.

“Blaze,” I say, and from the way he stiffens, I know he’s listening. But I don’t rotate to face him. I just stay as still as possible, and continue, “You saved my life today. Twice. After what you’ve been through with your parents, I know it was hard for you to do that healing spell again, so… well, it means a lot. Thank you.”

A few seconds pass, and I’m afraid he’s not going to reply.

Then, finally, he does.

“I’ve spent a lot of time keeping people at a distance.” His voice is strained, as if he’s fighting the emotion he’s feeling in his soul. But it’s somehow easier to talk here in the dark, not looking at each other, and much to my surprise, he keeps going. “I used to think I had to face the darkness alone. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve been wrong about rejecting my magic—about seeing it as a curse instead of a gift. Maybe I can use it to make a positive difference in this world.”

His words hang in the air, and I suck in a sharp breath, touched by his vulnerability.

Especially because right now, Blaze is all I have.

My sisters turned on me by continuing to help raise Ambrogio. They heard my warnings, and they ignored me. They chose power over love, guided by their fear of mortality instead of trusting the universe.

I’ve been blocking out the pain of leaving them by focusing on my mission. But in this moment, with my body pressed against Blaze’s, the hollowness that’s been in my heart since saying goodbye to my sisters hits me all at once.

I’m alone.

The two people in my life who I always believed I could rely on chose to not trust me.

Blaze, on the other hand, is here. He’s shared a part of himself with me that he’s never trusted with anyone.

He’s by my side when my sisters aren’t. I likely wouldn’t even be here right now if not for him.

That has to count for something. Right?

My heart races, and I know I have to say something—to do something.

Slowly, I roll over to face him, my movements tentative, yet deliberate.

His body tenses. Then, he moves to face me. It’s so dark that it’s nearly impossible to make out his features, but I can somehow feel the question in his eyes, even though I can barely see them.

He reaches up to trace his thumb across my cheekbone, and I don’t pull away.

“Blaze,” I whisper again. “I...”

The words dissolve into the silence, and unable to get across my feelings, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his.

It’s an apology, a thank you… and a promise I’m not sure I can keep.

His breath hitches, and there’s a hunger in him as he kisses me back, as if keeping me close will stop me from pushing him away again. The heat radiating from his body draws me in, making me never want to let go. It’s like we’ve been smothering our fire the entire time we’ve known each other, and now it’s finally released—an inferno blazing across my skin, rushing through my blood, and sinking deep into my bones.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, and I’m not sure if I’m apologizing for pushing him away earlier, or for giving into this moment when I know I shouldn’t.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says, and then he’s kissing me again, and I’m losing myself in the intoxicating sensation of his hands on my waist and his body pressed against mine.

In seconds, our fire ignites into something primal, fierce, undeniable, and irresistible.

I’m done trying to resist.

I want to feel safe, and wanted, and connected. And, despite everything, I’ve never felt as connected to anyone as I do to Blaze right now. I don’t want to stop. I just want to live in this moment, to finally feel the closeness I crave after losing my parents and leaving my sisters behind.

It’s just us, in this tent so small that we’re in a cocoon of privacy and intimacy, and I push away my worries and give in to the present, losing myself to Blaze as we let our fire consume us, becoming one in the darkness of the night.