Page 237 of House Ignis

I threw my arms around his massive neck, and he immediately lowered himself, his body curling into mine.

He nuzzled into the crook of my neck like he had done a hundred times before, his scent and warmth grounding me.

“I am really lucky to have you,” I whispered into his fur.

Aether huffed softly, a vibration that rumbled through my chest.

“I have been telling you that for years,” he said dryly.

Despite the exhaustion, despite the void in my bond, I smiled.

A sharp knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“Butterscotch latte awaits Your Majesty,” Ezra’s voice called through the heavy wood of the door.

I pulled away from Aether slowly and gave him a final, grateful nod.

I wiped the last of the tears from my cheeks, smoothing out the damp fabric of my robe before pushing myself to my feet.

My limbs still felt like they were weighted with lead, but the clawing pain had receded into the background enough for me to move.

I opened the door.

There he stood, latte in one hand, a basket overflowing with snacks in the other, wearing a grin so wide it looked like he could swallow the sun. For once, he looked less like a lethal Umbra warrior and more like... a friend.

And gods help me… I smiled back even wider.

Movement behind him caught my attention.

I turned to see Ember standing proudly in the middle of my room beside what could only be described as architectural chaos.

A fort.

Sheets, blankets, pillows, and cushions—even one of my high-backed chairs had been sacrificed to the construction.

It rose in crooked, glorious layers, looking like a defensive structure built specifically to withstand an emotional collapse.

I laughed. A real, honest laugh that felt like it cleared some of the ash from my lungs.

“Your fortress, princess,” Ember announced, sweeping her arm toward the masterpiece like she expected a standing ovation.

Gods. I loved these idiots.

I took the latte from Ezra, the warmth of the cup sinking straight into my palms and chasing away the last of the flare’s chill.

“Thank you,” I said softly. Then, before I could let my brain talk me out of it, I stepped forward and hugged him.

Ezra froze. Completely.

For one very long, awkward second, he went as rigid as a stone statue.

Then, slowly, his arms came around me, returning the hug with surprising gentleness.

I pulled back, meeting his sunset-orange eyes. “Really,” I said, my voice steady.

“Thank you. For today… and for that day on the field. I appreciate the friendship, Ezra. I’m really grateful to have you.”

Surprise flickered across his face, a rare break in his cocky armor.