Page 34 of House Ignis

He stopped, his gaze snapping to me.

"And you, Princess Ava, will one day be the heart of the flame that keeps the Ignivar outpost burning. I suggest you pay attention. History is the only thing standing between you and the dark."

I swallowed hard, the weight of the crown feeling heavier than ever. Beside me, Jules's eyes were wide behind her glasses, reflecting the golden light of the map.

"Gods," she whispered. "It's beautiful. And terrifying."

"Mostly terrifying," I muttered back, my skin prickling as the shimmering barrier flickered—a reminder of just how fragile our world really was.

After an hour of Professor Vale's lecture, the bell tolled overhead, a deep and melodic resonance that signaled the end of class.

Instantly, the hall flooded with noise as students surged to their feet.

Ember and Maddy were already moving, their voices lost in the sudden chatter, but as I stood to smooth my skirt, I felt it.

That prickle on the back of my neck. The weight of a gaze that didn't belong to a friend.

I told myself not to look. I failed.

My head turned instinctively toward the upper tiers, and I regretted it the second our eyes met.

Asher Maddox was draped over one of the auditorium chairs, one boot hooked over the seat in front of him.

He looked utterly bored, his hand idly dancing in the air as he toyed with a wisp of shadow that curled around his fingers like a pet.

As the rows around him emptied and the sound of retreating boots faded down the stone steps, he didn't move.

He stayed anchored there, his silver eyes locked on mine.

There was no smirk this time—no teasing mask. Just a steady, unsettling focus that felt far too deliberate to be casual.

Something tightened in the air between us. Thin. Electric.

Then, the shadows stirred.

A faint, ink-black tendril slid across the marble floor, silent as a held breath and invisible to anyone else.

It brushed my ankle first—a cold, fleeting caress—before tracing higher. It was slow and intentional, curling with possessive heat along the inside of my thigh.

My breath hitched, the sensation sending a sharp, disorienting flare through my skin.

My fingers clenched white-knuckled around my satchel strap, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I looked up at him, my pulse thundering in my ears.

His mouth curved then—not a wide grin, but a slow, lazy tilt that promised nothing but patience. His fingers flexed against the wooden bench.

The shadows hesitated, as if savoring the reaction.

Then, obediently, they withdrew.

The tendril slipped back across the floor and vanished beneath his heavy boots, leaving the absence of the touch burning worse than the contact itself.

"Ava?"

Ember's voice sliced through the haze, bright with amusement.

"You coming, or are you planning to combust right here in the front row?"