Chapter 103: Reid

Chapter 103: Reid
One look between Jake and me is enough.
We don’t even have to speak.

We’re following her.

We start running.

And by we, I mean she is practically sprinting like a damn track star, and we—two grown men who fought each other half to death last night—are limping after her, every step a reminder of exactly where his punches landed.

My ribs ache like hell. Jake’s jaw looks like someone used it as a punching bag. Between the two of us, we’re in no shape for a midnight chase.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath, pressing a hand to my side. “How is she that fast?”

Jake pants next to me. “Because she didn’t get tackled by her twin last night, probably.”

We round a corner, and there she is—her silhouette small against the night, one leg already swinging over the stone wall that lines the road.

Jake calls out, quick-thinking as ever. “Madeline—it’s just us!”

Smart. The last thing she needs is to think someone’s chasing her through the dark.

She glances back briefly, then promptly ignores us, climbing right over the wall like she’s on some kind of mission from God.

Jake drops our takeout bag on the ground with a sigh. “You can’t go down there—it’s slippery as hell.”

“She’s gonna break her neck,” I add with a grunt.

“It’s not safe,” I add, sharper than I mean to. “You could hurt yourself. Come back.”

She turns to us, eyes catching what little light there is. “Is that an order from my bosses?”

Jake and I both hesitate. “No, but—”

“Then if you’re so worried,” she says, already smirking, “come with me.”

Jake’s already moving before I can stop him, swinging a leg over the wall and lowering himself down onto the rocks.

I curse under my breath and follow.

The rocks are slick in patches, cold and uneven under my boots. She’s already a few steps ahead, moving quickly but sure-footed, her small frame cutting through the fog like she’s done this a thousand times.

“Why the fuck are you going to the water at night?” I mutter, my hand catching a jagged edge for balance. “And through here?”

Jake grunts behind her. “If this is payback for not liking the Italian food…”

That earns a laugh from her—light, unguarded, the sound bouncing off the stones and curling somewhere deep in my chest.

“I might be new and bad on a boat,” she says, looking back with a grin, “but on shores and tidepools? I’m a pro.”

And yeah—she is.

I find myself watching her as she moves, the way she picks her footing, steady even when she slips. She’s small but balanced, her leggings brushing against the dark stone as she hops from rock to rock, quick and fearless.

She reaches the last one and jumps—landing on a small patch of pebbled beach below.

Then she gasps.

And Jake and I both freeze where we are.

It lasts all of a second before I move.
My ribs scream, but I don’t care. I clear the rest of the rocks in two strides and drop down beside her. Jake lands next to me a heartbeat later.

She’s standing completely still, hands over her mouth, eyes wide and glassy.

I follow her gaze—and stop dead.

The waves are rolling in slow and shallow, each one breaking with a shimmer, lighting the entire shoreline in ghostly blue. Thousands of tiny sparks—white, silver, indigo—glitter across the water, pulsing with every rise and fall of the tide.

Jake and I exchange a look, confused at first. But then she turns toward us—her face breaking into a smile so bright it feels like it could rival the damn water itself.

She points, almost shouting through a laugh.
“Bioluminescence!”

Her voice echoes against the rocks, light and alive. She gestures grandly toward the waves like she’s presenting the world’s best magic trick. Then, before we can say anything, she’s running to the very edge.

“Madeline—” I start, but she’s already crouched down, fingers brushing the dark water.

The second she touches it, the sea glows.
Every sweep of her hand leaves a trail of light, as if the stars themselves are caught beneath her skin. When she pulls her fingers back, the glow lingers—little constellations on her palm—before fading.

She gasps, laughs, does it again. Again.
And Jake and I just stand there watching her.

Her hair’s catching the faint light, skin haloed in blue. I've only ever seen her this unguarded with the seal last week, but even then she wasn't as happy as she is now.

Jake glances at me, half smiling. “She ran all this way… for this?”

Madeline turns to us, incredulous. “Of course I did!”

I crouch beside her, close enough to see the glow ripple against her arm as she moves it through the water. “First time seeing it?”

She nods, still breathless. “First time in person.”

There’s nothing but awe in her expression—pure, unguarded wonder—as she drags her fingers through the glowing surf again.

“It’s caused by a chemical reaction,” she says, voice soft but eager. “A light-emitting molecule called luciferin and an enzyme called luciferase. The enzyme acts as a catalyst—it oxidizes the luciferin and releases energy as light.” She glances up at us. “But you two probably knew that.”

Jake and I both shake our heads.

Jake crouches on her other side, curiosity tugging at his features. “So… why the sprint through town?”

Madeline smiles faintly, eyes still on the glowing water. “It’s a fleeting phenomenon. Depends on the temperature, tides, weather… you need dark, moonless nights and calm water. It doesn’t last long.”

She turns her hand in the surf, watching the light bloom around her fingers. “There’s an app that tracks it,” she says. “When I saw it was happening nearby tonight, I didn’t want to miss it. The tides are changing, and the water’s cooling—it’ll be gone soon.”

Neither of us say anything for a moment.
We just watch her—this girl who’s been through hell, who still looks at the world like it’s worth marveling at.

And it hits me—quiet and brutal—right there, watching her kneel in the glow of the water like some kind of myth brought to life.

That’s what Jake meant.

This—she—is what he meant last night when he said he'd rather they both find a way than lose her altogether.
Because looking at her now, I get it.
I finally, completely get it.

She’s everything.

She’s infuriating when she’s stubborn, drives me half-mad when she won’t listen, when she throws herself into things without thinking. She gets under my skin like a splinter I can’t dig out. She challenges me without even realizing she’s doing it.

And yet—when she’s like this… when she’s kneeling in the dark, her fingers glowing blue and her eyes wide with wonder, explaining luciferase and oxidation like it’s poetry—it’s over for me.

I can’t look away.

She’s so fucking smart. Not the kind that just memorizes facts, but the kind that feels them, that turns science into awe. She sees the world differently—through a lens I don’t have, like she’s constantly finding magic in things I’ve stopped noticing.

And for all the darkness I’ve seen, for everything I’ve built walls against—she just walks through it.

I’m standing a few feet behind her, watching the glow paint her skin, and it feels like my chest is being split open and rewritten at once.

Jake was right.