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room, my mother showed, I got kicked out on my rear— and you promised me that we’d happen—the end.” It expels from my vocal cords sad, gut wrenching on some level because of where that might leave Gage and even Marshall.
    “Mmm,” Logan gives a slow, tired nod. “Did I have wings?”
    “You did until you ripped them off.” I reach up and cup his face. “Are you quizzing me?”
    “No, I just wanted to relive the night, straight from your lips.” He sneaks in a kiss, sultry and heated. “It was perfect.” He touches his forehead to mine, and I listen to his steady breathing as he falls asleep.
    Logan looks like an angel, a god. His breath touches just over my chest, soft and warm. I can see us doing this night after night. Logan and I entangled in one another’s arms for all eternity. If I choose Logan, every day will be filled with the magic he delivers, the all-encompassing sacrificial love he brings to the table. And if I don’t choose Logan, every day will be covered in soot, in dross—coated with an impurity that only he could wash away. Logan burns so bright he purifies my life in his own special way.
    Nope.
    I definitely cannot live without Logan.
    Or Gage.
    Or Marshall. 
     
    ***
     
    In the morning I text Giselle to make sure all is well in Kragger hell.
    The rain streams against my window, soft and lithe as a waterfall, as if someone is standing on the other side with a garden hose.
    Logan stretches his arms over his head, and the muscles that rope over his shoulders define themselves in turn.
    “At what point did you strip down to your boxers?” I ask half-teasing, mostly curious but, for the love of God—thankful.
    “At the point it reached two hundred degrees in here. You’re a little heater, you know that?” He gives a lazy grin, looking sexy-as-hell in the process. He swipes up a water bottle floating around on my comforter and knocks it back.
    I’ve been up for the past half hour watching him like some erotic dream about to unfold on my bed. I’ve already brushed my hair and teeth. I can’t imagine what it would be like waking up to someone in your bed every day. If Logan saw what a witch I look like in my natural morning state I’m sure he’d rethink his whole choose me stance.
    “I’m not a heater. You’re just hotter than hell, Mr. Oliver.” I toss my pillow at him.
    He tucks it under his head until he’s comfortable and ready to drift back to sleep.
    “I think you’re hotter than hell, Mrs. Oliver .” His lips pull back just shy of a smile. “That will be your name one day, and you know it.” He strokes my cheek with a barely-there pass of his finger. “Speaking of Gage.” He groans as he rolls off the bed. “I’d better go and see how he’s doing.” Logan presses a quick kiss to the top of my head before pulling on his clothes.
    “I’ll come with,” I say, just as I get a text from Giselle.
    Mom picked me up at the coffee shop. On my way to see my big brother. She says he’s healing and that you should let him rest.
    I flash Giselle’s text over at Logan.
    “I’ll go and scope things out. I’ll give you a call in a couple hours.”
    “They can’t stop me from seeing him.” A surge of anger rises in me over Emma of all people. I don’t know why I’ve singled her out. Barron is just as ticked as she is. I’m not sure I can blame them, though. Everything that’s falling to shit in this world, and the next, seems to be my fault.
    “Nobody’s going to stop you from doing anything. I promise.” He tousles my hair as he heads over to the butterfly room. “School starts tomorrow. You ready?”
    “For senior year?” I hold back a laugh. “I say bring it.”
    “Oh, I’m bringing it.” He shakes his head as if I had no clue. “I’m bringing my A game, Skyla.” He comes at me playfully and tackles me to the bed. Logan pins my hands up high over my head and bounces a kiss off my lips. “Gage and Dudley will never know what hit ‘em.” He