Page 75 of House Ignis

The weight of the question made my cheeks flush—not with embarrassment, but with a sudden, grounding certainty. "Yeah," I said. "Tonight."

He leaned down to kiss my forehead, but before he could pull away, I caught his collar. He paused, surprise flickering in his brown eyes. I rose just enough, ignoring the sharp ache in my ribs, and pressed my lips to his.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, steadying me as he kissed me back—slow, sure, and possessive, as if he were reminding everyone in the room exactly where we stood. When I finally pulled back, his thumb brushed lightly over my skin.

"Rest," he murmured.

He straightened, gave me one last searching look, and turned toward the door.

He nearly collided with Asher on his way out. They stopped inches apart, neither yielding an inch. Jeremy held his ground, a mountain of earth magic; Asher met him with the unyielding chill of the void. No words were exchanged, only a silence so thick it felt like a physical weight.

Jeremy stepped past him without breaking eye contact. Asher didn't move until the door clicked shut. The shadows at his boots coiled once in a restless spiral, then stilled.

After I was finally discharged from the healers' wing, the five of us made our way toward the stables.

"You should've seen it, Ava," Ryven started as we reached the hitching posts, his voice practically vibrating with residual adrenaline. "The whole arena went pitch-black the second you dropped. Not dim. Not shadowy. I mean—void. Nothing."

I slowed my pace, the weight of his words sinking in.

"One second," Ryven continued, gesturing wildly with his hands, "Asher was right next to me. Calm. Broody. Pretending he wasn't about to commit murder. And the next—he was gone. Just—gone. Teleported, melted, dissolved—whatever the hell shadow dudes do."

I blinked, trying to reconcile that image with the arrogant male who had been teasing me only minutes before the duel.

"And then he was just there in the arena," Ryven said, eyes gleaming. "Inside the shield. He pulled Zorian off you with these—these shadow things. Like claws made of smoke. Ripped him back like a damn god."

My stomach tightened. "And Zya?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, she didn't wait for an invitation," Ryven said. "She took a massive bite out of that sea freak—Styx—and the thing screamed like a dying kraken before curling right back into the fountain. Zya dragged Aether away by the leg—no finesse, just brute force. When the other boundlings tried to help, she snarled and nearly tore into them, too."

"It was like she was…" Ryven trailed off, searching for the word.

"Primal," Asher finished quietly from behind us.

I made the mistake of looking up. His silver eyes were already anchored on mine, dark and unreadable.

"Yeah," Ryven said, snapping his fingers. "Exactly."

Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.

Then Ryven exhaled sharply. "And then Asher just—lost it. Full berserker mode. Shadows everywhere. Zorian barely got a spell up before Asher was on him. I mean—he messed him up. Guards had to physically pull him off. Even other first-years had to jump in to stop the slaughter."

"Well," Ember muttered darkly, "fucking deserved."

"Seconded," Maddy scoffed, tightening her golden braid. "Heightening against the heir? The psycho deserved worse."

"By Veyros' twisted coin," Ryven muttered, "it was the most unhinged thing I've ever seen."

The sharp, earthy scent of sun-warmed hay hit me as we stepped fully into the stables. I turned on Asher, anger flashing through me like a match striking dry air.

"You could've—"

"—Saved you?" he interrupted smoothly, his voice pure smoke and shadow. "Yes. I did."

My jaw ticked. "You didn't have to—"

"Don't," he cut in softly, his silver eyes sharpening until they looked like whetted blades. "Don't give me that look." A beat of silence passed. "A thank you would suffice, darling."

His wicked grin flashed—infuriating, deliberate, and entirely too confident. I opened my mouth to snap back, but the bond pulsed.