Page 51

EVE

“Are you going to set your hand on fire, or are we going to sit here all day waiting for a miracle?”

Orion’s voice was warm against my ear, light with amusement. His arms circled my waist, his chest solid against my back like he hadn’t noticed—or didn’t care—that I was one snapped nerve away from losing it.

“Some of us weren’t born with magic,” I muttered, staring at my open palm. Cool skin. No heat. No flicker. Just another failure.

Perhaps it was better this way.

I flexed my fingers and tried again. Nothing. The pressure in my chest built, but I dropped my hand before it could grow into something I couldn’t control. “It’s not going to happen.”

Orion didn’t argue. He just rested his chin on my shoulder, maddeningly calm. “It’ll happen.”

He said that every time. And every time, it cut a little deeper.

The last few days had blurred together—practice, fail, repeat. Nights spent wide-eyed in the dark, waiting for my magic to surge without warning. Days spent like this, sitting outside a cabin that wasn’t mine, wrapped in someone else’s comfort while my life smoldered behind me.

The diner was gone. My job. My routine. My safe, predictable little corner of the world. I didn’t belong there anymore. But I didn’t belong here, either—not with the Titans, not with this fire inside me that refused to obey.

And now? I was just a girl with magic I couldn’t use with blood on my hands and nowhere left to go.

“This is pointless,” I said. “I’m obviously just broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Orion said gently, but I could hear the smile behind the words. “You just need… release.”

I jerked forward, away from him. “Orion, be serious. We don’t have time for this. If I can’t control it, someone’s going to get hurt. Again.”

He didn’t flinch at the bite in my voice. Just moved his hands to my shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles into the knots there and pulling me back into his chest.

“You’re getting all worked up, Sunshine. If you keep letting fear run the show, your magic’s never going to trust you enough to answer.”

I shivered, torn between melting under his touch and pushing him away just so I could think. “I don’t have time to wait around for it to trust me,” I whispered.

Orion shifted, pulling me to face him. His green eyes held mine with that unshakable calm that only made me feel worse.

“You’re not a ticking time bomb, Eve. Your magic’s not a curse—it’s part of you. It’s listening. But you have to stop fighting it like it’s the enemy.”

I looked down at my hands again. I tried again. They still didn’t glow.

Orion leaned in, his breath drifting across my lips as a wicked grin tugged at his mouth.

“Maybe,” he murmured, “you just need a distraction.”

Then he kissed me.

It started soft—teasing, almost lazy—his lips moving just enough to make me chase him. And when I did, he pulled back with that insufferable smirk that made my blood boil in the best possible way.

I mewled, the sound embarrassingly needy. I didn’t care.

The smile faded from his lips, replaced by something darker. Hungrier. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me back to him as his mouth met mine with heat that drowned out every rational thought. It wasn’t sweet. It was sharp, consuming, and utterly addictive.

I wanted more. I’d needed more for days, and the way he touched me now made it feel impossible to stop. My hands slid under his shirt, fingers grazing warm skin and hard muscle, and when he groaned—a deep, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest—I thought I might combust.

Literally.

He tensed with a hiss and pulled back slightly. I jerked my hands away, my stomach dropping.

Smoke.

Fine wisps curled from my fingers, rising like warning signs into the air between us.

The heat that had been so delicious seconds ago turned to dread in my chest. My throat tightened.

One wrong touch—one flicker too far—and Orion would be ash.

I could burn him from the inside out without meaning to.

“Fuck,” I breathed, flopping onto the damp grass with a groan. I covered my face with both arms, wishing I could melt into the earth. “Seriously?!”

Orion’s laughter broke through the haze, low and infuriatingly warm.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I muttered into my elbow.

“Always,” he said, hovering over me now, one arm braced on the ground beside my head. “You’re making this way more fun than I expected.”

I lowered my arms and glared up at him. “I just want to be able to touch you without scorching you. Is that too much to ask?”

His grin softened. One hand swept a loose strand of hair from my face, his fingers careful and fond.

“You’re getting there,” he said. “That was a hell of a lot more control than last week.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want praise, I wanted normal. I wanted safe.

But Orion was already straightening, offering me his hand and flashing a look that said trouble ahead.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s try something new.”

I let him pull me to my feet, brushing damp grass off my back as he started tugging me along. His steps were light, a little too deliberate, shoulders hunched like a kid sneaking out of a sleepover.

“What are we doing?” I whispered, half-laughing at the ridiculous sight of him creeping around the side of the cabin.

“Shh,” he whispered back, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He pulled me behind a tree, pressing his back to the bark like we were hiding from the law. “We’re sneaking out.”

“Orion, there’s no one here.”

“Exactly,” he said, that grin growing.

“Atlas told us to stay put.”

“Atlas says a lot of things I don’t particularly care about,” Orion shrugged. “We’ve got a few hours of blessed freedom. He’s off hunting with Ragnar, and Xander’s gone to meet Sol. It’s the perfect chance.”

Xander . The name tugged at my chest like a snag in my sweater.

His face from this morning surfaced behind my eyes—drawn, tense.

The argument he’d had with Atlas was brief but sharp, and when he’d left, he’d barely glanced at me.

He hadn’t told me what he was researching.

Not last night, not the night before, not in all the nights I’d spent curled beside him, letting his cool stillness soothe the nightmares clawing at my sleep.

He was right there, night after night… but it didn’t feel like he was.

And I’d never asked him to explain. Because if I did, I worried I might not like the answer.

Orion’s fingers tightened around mine, pulling me back to the present. I looked at him—mischief in his eyes—and felt the guilt twist deeper.

Because while he grinned, teased, and pulled me toward his orbit… I was still falling asleep in another man’s bed.

And Orion didn’t even blink at that. Not once. He said it didn’t bother him.

That should’ve made it easier.

It didn’t.

“Hey,” Orion said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “You zoning out on me already?”

“What?” I blinked. “No—I’m here.”

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said. Then—without warning—he scooped me up like I weighed nothing and tossed me over his shoulder.

A startled squeal escaped me. “Orion!”

“Stop questioning me and start behaving,” he said, voice full of mock authority as he adjusted his grip.

I pounded on his back, laughing despite myself. “Put me down!”

“You’re awfully bossy for someone being kidnapped.”

And then—his palm came down on my backside. A sharp, playful smack, the sound echoing through the trees.

My breath caught.

Heat flared through me, and I twisted in his hold, flustered and flushed. “What was that for?”

He didn’t even pretend to look guilty. “Good girls get surprises. Bad girls get spanked. Thought we established this.”

He did it again, but this time I squeaked at the sharpness in the contact.

I gaped at him, half-offended, half-thrumming with something I didn’t dare name. “Orion—”

He reached the truck and set me down with care, his hands lingering at my waist.

“So…” he said, leaning in close, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you going to behave now?”

I was still reeling as the blood rushed back to my head, my skin tingling, pulse unsteady.

“Thought so,” he murmured. Then he opened the passenger door with a casual flick. “Get in, Sunshine. You’re in for a surprise.”