“So let the Whittaker W burn hot tonight. Celebrate. Then wake up Monday and earn your place.”
The crowd erupts into applause, boot stomps, and cheers as Noa stands off to the side of the W below.
Damn,I think.He’sreallygood at this.
Noa makes a motion with his hands so subtle I would have missed it if I wasn’t so attuned to his body.
The W bursts into flames.
It isn’t ordinary flame. This ishisfire—so bright it glows blue at the center. The crowd gasps as flames spiral upward, swirling into shapes: dancers moving with provocative grace, their limbs sculpted in light. Then they shoot up into the sky, bursting into a thousand sparks that rain down on us like falling stars.
It is completely magickal. Mysterious. Hypnotic.
And entirely him.
My father used to say that the first magick didn’t rise from the earth at all. Itfell.
I watch as sparks drift around me like fireflies, lighting even the darkest shadows—and I can’t help but think that he was right.
Noa winks at me before walking back over to snag me possessively around the waist with one arm, while the other hand holds a beer a fellow student gave him.
“Impressive,” I say, nodding to the Flaming W and the glitter of embers still surrounding us.
“We aim to please,” he says as he nuzzles my ear.
The rest of the night dissolves in a blur of faces and firelight. I meet some of Noa’s friends, their names already slipping from me like smoke. Shared fragments of stories and drinks are passed around like currency. My squad—Rozsen, Elliot, and the others—bask in the sudden elevation that my dating Noa Gallegher seems to have given us.
Status by association.
Heat by proximity.
Elliot’s playing a drinking game involving coins and stones with some fourth-years. Rozsen is lying on a blanket, stargazing with Noa’s blond friend we met in the Cavern. I think his name is Finn.
Gods, was that only just today? It feels like more time has passed. Like we’ve been carried miles and years since sunrise. My thoughts blur like watercolor in rain, everything soft-edged and glowing.
A large hand pulls me close. I lean into it, into him, enjoying the warmth radiating between us. And for the first time in a long time, I feel… content. Even with everything that’s happened—the pain, the loss, the unknown—something inside me settles. Like a ship finding harbor after too long at sea.
It’s not just because of Noa, though that’s part of it. But because of this.
Being here. In this moment. Surrounded by people like me.
I’ve spent my whole life hiding this part of myself, thinking it was wrong. Dangerous. But this—this feelsreal. Like the start of something I didn’t know I’d been waiting for.
Noa’s breath dances across my lips before he kisses me. Soft and sure. “Walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, voice low. “Or can I convince you to stay with me tonight?”
I smile against his lips. “Lead the way,legend,” I whisper, throwing his earlier word back at him.
He laughs softly and begins steering us through the crowd.We move quietly, hand in hand, until the voices and music fade behind us.
The moon is bright tonight and reflects off the lake to our right. The gentle waves hum as they brush up onto the rocky shore. The silver moonlight makes the water glow like it’s lit from beneath.
I get that familiar pulse in my fingertips—my magick, just beneath the surface—awakening in response to the lake’s call. Something that’s only gotten louder since the squad challenge. The memory of the boat, the way it was pulled under like a warning, sends a shiver down my spine.
I pull closer to Noa, his warmth radiating, chasing the chill away. Whispers from the water glide softly over the lake’s mirror-like surface, no longer haunting, but peaceful. Serene.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, voice hushed.
“Yes, it is,” he replies.
