Page 74 of Ignite the Infernos

“I’ve been back for over an hour,” Ever interrupts as she strides out of the closet.

My gaze instantly zeroes in on what she’s wearing. The skirt falls to the ground in one voluminous panel of fabric. It’s the color of a dark plum and sits dangerously low on her hips. Her top is a strip of ruched fabric the same color as her skirt. It covers only her boobs and wraps artfully around one bicep. She looks good enough to eat, and I debate lying back down and begging her to come sit on my face so I can tell her, and her pretty pussy, how sorry I am.

“Hello, Tove,” Ever greets in the annoyingly chipper tone she’s adopted over the last day or so. “Here to water the plants?”

Tove levels Ever with a look. “Did you forget you had all the real plants in your room exchanged for fake ones, Frills?”

“Oh, riiiight,” Ever chimes. “Didn’t want to risk you spying. I know how pervy you Seeders can get. Gossiping with the philodendrons and encouraging the fiddle-leaf figs and dracaenas to ‘keep an eye on things,’” she says with a wink and a pair of air quotes.

“Oh please. I’d rather watch Chastain braid his pubes,” Tove deadpans, and Ever has to fight back a smile.

“See? Pervy,” Ever lobs as she strides past the both of us.

“You’re wearing that to meet the dukes?” I blurt, and Tove pinches the bridge of her nose, like she’s trying to stave off a headache—or maybe, in this case, disappointment.

“Smooth, Commander, real smooth,” she murmurs as she moves to leave like she can’t get out of this room fast enough.

Ever pauses for a heartbeat and then continues over to the table and the covered dishes waiting for her there. “Is it on my body?” she asks, her tone sharp and the question barbed.

“It is,” I agree, although the bond and I would prefer it on the ground.

“Then, yes, I’m wearing it, Noctis,” she snips, clearly not giving a shit about how much skin she’s showing.

Her dragon mark, both front and back, is on full display, and her silky, straight hair gleams like a fire opal. I want to wrap it around my fist and— I stomp that thought flat until it resembles a road pancake.

“Fine,” I snap back, my patience already razor-thin. It’s bad enough we have to go through this whole fucked-up event with the Conclave, but now she has to give them even more to drool over?

Ever doesn’t say anything else as I storm to the bathroom to get ready. Exactly twenty minutes later, I stride out of the closet in a techwear vest, top, and pants the exact shade of Ever’s outfit. It’s a little more casual than I’d normally wear in front of the Conclave, but the eyes in the room aren’t going to be on me this afternoon.

Ever sits at the table, trying to siphon Ogdan’s fireballs out of the air as fast as he can shoot them. She spent all of yesterday training and, already, her progress is beyond impressive.

As soon as Ogdan sees me, he stands and greets me with a nod. “The Scioness’s Wing,” he states, like it’s a question, “is waiting in the entry hall for their assignments.”

“Thank you, we’ll be there in a minute,” I answer, and with another nod, Ogdan swiftly leaves the room.

“It’s good to know you’re not just chasing me off these days, but your Wing too,” Ever observes, rising from her chair and turning to me.

I ignore the jab, just like I’ve ignored all the others she’s aimed my way, and focus on what we’re going to be up against for the next several hours.

“Do you have any specific assignments you’d like to request for your . . . guards?” I query, purposefully not calling them her Wing because she hasn’t offered an official trial to any of them.

She asked for more time to get to know them, and as much as I’d like to argue, I have no grounds to. Sondar already told her how picky I was when choosing the members of my Wing. He went into great detail about all the missions and training ops I required before choosing only five. Then, of course, there was the second Call to Arms, where I was even more diligent and demanding. Initially, I thought Ever would rely more on my experience when selecting who should take the sacred vow to protect her, but now that I know her, I realize what an asinine assumption that was.

“I think the four females, Bryndol, Daelith, Rysel, and Luma, should be my primaries for the event after I meet the Conclave. Their presence can help diffuse attention and mitigate any posturing from the little lordlings and counts,” Ever directs, and approval blankets my thoughts.

“And your other six?”

Ever’s attention drifts to the archways, and a twinkle of delight suddenly softens her features. I follow her gaze and see that it’s started to snow outside. She exhales a wistful sigh that burrows into me for some reason. It makes me think of snowball fights and ice dragons, hot meals, hotter drinks, and calm, quiet nights.

“I don’t know if it’s fortuitous or a bad omen,” she utters quietly, her eyes tracking the descent of the snowflakes as they journey from the sky to the ground.

“It’s whichever one you want it to be,” I offer, turning away from the flurries and focusing back on her.

Her smile doesn’t meet her solemn gaze as she turns away from the stormy view. “If only that were true.”

She reaches down and unclasps her anklet. In a blink, everything the charm was concealing reappears, and I instantly understand why she chose the outfit that she did. The skin on display isn’t an invitation—it’s a warning.

“Have Vesper be visible but stick to the perimeter unless there’s an emergency. His dual affinities could come in handy in case this whole thing goes tits up. The others can be worked in with your team however you see fit. You know the keep and the nobles better than I do, so I’ll leave it to you to coordinate.”