Page 18 of House Ignis

Before I could argue with myself, Ember seized my wrist. Her grip was iron, her grin feral. "Up, Flame. No sulking. You're dancing."

"Ember—"

"No excuses."

She yanked me upright, the silk of my dress snapping around my legs as she dragged me straight into the storm.

The Grand Hall's floor had become a living whirlwind of motion and color.

Maddison and Ryven were already a spectacle at the center—half dancing, half devouring each other, laughter spilling between their kisses as if they'd forgotten anyone else existed.

Ember snagged two glasses before the server could blink. "For us," she declared triumphantly, handing one to me.

I rolled my eyes but took it anyway.

The liquor burned down my throat like molten glass, and for a few blissful seconds, the noise of the crowd dulled. We toasted—one shot, then another.

And then we danced.

Gods, did we dance.

Ember twirled, her gown a whirl of black silk and firelight.

I tried to keep up, laughing and finally losing myself in the music, until the skin at the back of my neck prickled.

"Someone's watching you," Aether said, far too pleased.

I turned. And there he was.

Leaning against a pillar like the entire hall was his to command.

A half-buttoned black shirt bared a glimpse of his chest, sleeves shoved to his elbows, tattoos curling like dark script across the cut of his forearms. His silver eyes locked on me, drinking me in.

When I nervously licked my lips, his gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening visibly.

He set his goblet aside with deliberate slowness, slid one hand into his pocket, and with the other, opened his palm.

Shadows bled from it instantly.

They spilled forth like smoke given hunger, coiling through the air as they reached for me.

Gods, I couldn't look away as the darkness slid across the marble, curling around my ankles like silk come alive.

All I could feel was the brush of those tendrils against my skin, and gods help me, it felt good.

Beside me, Ember's jaw nearly hit the floor, her green eyes wide with delighted shock. My heart thundered against my ribs, wild and uneven.

"He's going to come over here," Ember said, far too gleeful, sipping her shot like she was watching a private show.

Then, click.

His dress shoes struck the marble with a measured, lethal precision, cutting through the crowded ballroom like a blade through silk.

The Umbra students parted for him without a single word, shadows pouring off his frame in dark, liquid rivers.

Couples slid aside instinctively, yielding the floor as if he commanded the very air he breathed—and gods, he looked devastating doing it.

Then he smiled. That wicked, ruinous grin.