Page 118 of House Ignis

I didn’t think.

I just moved.

In a blur of crimson silk and heat, I was on top of him, straddling his lap. The chair creaked beneath our sudden weight, but Asher didn’t flinch. He just looked up at me, silver eyes wide, tracking every micro-movement like he’d been waiting for this exact collision.

“Darling,” he murmured, his voice low and wicked. “Rules.”

I looked down at him, my breath hitching. That one dark curl had fallen over his forehead, and his eyes were swirling pools of quicksilver. And that dimple—that infuriating, godsdamn dimple—was going to be the thing that finally sent me over the edge.

His fingers trailed up my thighs—slow, deliberate, drawing invisible circles on the skin exposed by my short skirt. I nearly gasped, the friction sending sparks through the bond. I shifted, rolling my hips against him in a slow, torturous arc.

His eyes flashed, and he hissed through his teeth, his grip on my thighs tightening until his knuckles were white. Every nerve in my body lit up. Every cell in me screamed for more.

"Gods," he said, his voice like velvet sin as I rolled again. "You're playing games, Ava."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I wanted to moan. I needed to let the sound out, to feel him break. But I didn't. I wouldn't. He chuckled darkly, the vibration traveling from his chest directly into mine, knowing exactly how much I was holding back.

"You're not ready for what happens when you stop fighting," he whispered, his breath hot against my jaw.

My power surged beneath my skin like wildfire, threatening to scorch the very air between us. "You're the one playing games, Maddox."

His smile said guilty. His eyes said come closer. The bond? It just roared mine.

His fingers lingered, tracing lines of fire over my skin, and I could have sworn the bond itself growled with hunger. I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear, my voice low and laced with molten heat.

"I don't think you're ready for this, Bond."

He stilled. Just for a heartbeat. His eyes blazed, and his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might snap.

I smirked, relishing the flicker of genuine surprise in his expression. I rose in one slow, fluid motion, scooping up the scrolls and Alayna’s notes with an extra-loud rustle for dramatic effect. I slung one onto my hip like a sash of victory, my heart still racing but my head finally clear of the fog.

"One point to Ava," I said over my shoulder, not looking back.

The bond flared between us—hot, electric, and pulsing with his sudden, sharp frustration. I left him there, sitting stunned and shadow-kissed in the silence of the Archives.

Let him stew in it. If he wanted to be the darkness, he was going to have to learn that I was the one who controlled the flame.

•••

After dinner, Ember crashed early—exhausted from the day's chaos—and I finally had a moment alone. I crossed the room and pulled the drawer open again. The book still sat there like a ghost begging to be opened.

Jax Pyreson.

My brother's name burned like a brand across the cover.

I exhaled slowly, lifting it gently, then sat on my bed and opened the first page—only to frown.

The language… it wasn't Common Tongue. Or Old Fae. It wasn't anything I recognized. The letters shimmered slightly, almost writhing on the page like they were made of starlight or smoke.

"Well, that's weird," I muttered, flipping through a few more pages. Symbols. Runes. Diagrams. Elegant, dancing script that was just barely out of reach for my brain to decipher.

"Looks like a Jules problem," I said to the empty room, sighing as I set the book on my desk. "I'll find her in the morning."

Still restless. Still humming with leftover adrenaline and too many emotions.

I glanced at the time. It was just enough daylight to blow off some steam. I changed quickly into my training set, tied my braids back tight, and slipped into my sneakers.

Aether grumbled from under his blanket but didn't move—he knew I needed the space.