Page 129 of House Ignis

Then, a sharp, piercing caw fractured the clearing. Solstice.

"She found something," Zya hissed, her form flickering as she paced the area where the hawk circled.

Asher's arms tightened briefly, a final possessive squeeze, before he lowered me to the forest floor. My legs wobbled beneath me, the ground feeling like it was made of water.

"Ava—" he began, his voice tight.

"No. I'm fine," I interrupted, straightening my spine. "We need to find Ryven."

His jaw ticked, the soldier in him battling the man who wanted to pull me back into the shadows, but finally he nodded.

He reached for my hand, and when our fingers touched, something shifted.

Electricity hummed beneath my skin. His magic brushed against mine, intertwining in a way that felt deeper, more permanent than before.

I blinked, startled by the sensation. He let go.

No time.

We pushed through a curtain of falling water—a hidden waterfall fountain that acted as the final veil to the forest's deepest secret. As the mist cleared, I gasped.

The other side was magnificent, a paradise of rot. Eclipsa flowers grew in a riot of vibrant pinks and deep, velvet purples, their petals glowing with a bioluminescent shimmer.

They were in full, deadly bloom, their sweet, cloying scent thick enough to taste. But the beauty was a lie. Where the flowers touched the trees, the bark was shriveled, and the air felt like it was being siphoned of all its oxygen.

Solstice cawed sharply ahead, a sound of pure distress.

We found him slumped against the base of a massive, ancient oak that looked like it had been struck by a blight.

The tree was bone-dry and dead, its branches skeletal against the pinkish glow of the glade. Black, oily streaks bled out from beneath Ryven's body, staining the earth where he sat.

His face was a terrifying shade of ivory, his skin so translucent I could see the skip of his pulse. Under his nose, the telltale shimmer of Eclipsa powder remained, and his lips moved in a feverish, silent mumble.

"Ryven," I breathed, dropping to my knees. Asher reached out to catch my shoulder, his fingers digging in as if to pull me back from a cliff, but I was already crawling toward him.

His eyelids fluttered, revealing slivers of eyes that were no longer human. They weren't just purple anymore—they were a bruised, electric pink, engulfed in a glowing haze.

"Ava?" His voice was a dry rasp, a sound that shouldn't have come from someone so young. "It's coming... the shadows... they're watching..."

My heart lurched into my throat, hammering a frantic rhythm. "Ryven, stay with me! Look at me, dammit!"

Asher crouched beside me, his expression unreadable, his jaw locked tight. He gently tapped Ryven's cheek, his movements clinical but urgent. "Ryven—hey. Snap out of it. We're getting you out of this hole."

Asher scooped him into his arms with a grunt of effort. Ryven felt terrifyingly light, like a bird made of hollow bones. The moment we stepped out of the shadows of the dead tree and into the bioluminescent light of the Eclipsa field, I saw the full extent of the damage.

I stumbled back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a cry. "No," I choked out. "Gods—"

Asher looked down, and for the first time since I'd met him, I saw him go completely still with genuine horror.

The veins.

They weren't just dark; they were raised, twisting like obsidian roots beneath his skin. They spidered across his collarbone and corded up his neck, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic violet light that flickered like a dying heartbeat.

They were moving.

Crawling. Spreading toward his temples like a living, hungry parasite.

"Gods," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "It's worse than I thought. It's the Eclipsa... it's taking root."