Page 19 of House Ignis

Those impossible dimples.

My throat went bone-dry. My tongue darted over my lower lip before I could stop the reflex, and his gaze flickered to the motion, his smirk deepening with predatory intent.

"Gods, you're pathetic," Aether muttered through the bond, the mental equivalent of an exasperated groan.

I ignored him, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"Princess," Asher murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that settled in my marrow.

He extended his hand, palm up. "Dance?"

I froze, my pulse spiking as I shot a glance at Ember. Her eyes were glittering with mischief, her smile sharp as a dagger as she lifted her goblet in a silent, daring toast.

"Do it," she mouthed. "You have to."

I swallowed hard, a spark of pure, unadulterated fire igniting in my chest. Fuck it.

"Of course," I said, letting a slow, wicked smile curl my lips as I placed my hand in his.

The instant our skin met, a jolt of lightning shot through me—searing up my arm and crashing straight into my heart.

I gasped, my eyes flying to his face, searching for a reaction. Asher didn't flinch. He just watched me, his gaze steady and unreadable, as though he felt nothing at all while my entire world tilted.

Then his hand slid around my waist, his palm searingly warm against the bare skin where my gown dipped low.

The heat shivered down my spine, coiling tight in the pit of my stomach.

With one hand resting on his broad shoulder and the other trapped in his calloused grip, I looked up at him.

"Who are you?" I whispered. The question slipped out before I could catch it.

His smirk deepened, turning dark and knowing.

"Asher Maddox." His voice was a low rumble of silk and shadow. "Nephew to Queen Sailene."

Interesting. The nephew of the Queen of Umbra herself.

"Nice to meet you," I managed, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he spun me out effortlessly, the world blurring into a streak of red and gold, before hauling me back against him.

I collided with his chest, solid and searing, our bodies flush and our faces inches apart. He leaned down, his mouth grazing the shell of my ear.

"Likewise, darling," he murmured, the word brushing hot and heavy against my skin.

His hand slid lower, settling firmly at the small of my back—unmistakably possessive, anchoring me there as if daring me to even try to pull away.

His breath brushed my lips, close enough to taste, close enough to ruin me.

Gods help me, my heart was hammering so hard I thought it might actually tear itself apart.

"Relax, darling," Asher whispered, his lips grazing the curve of my ear. His voice was velvet wrapped in smoke.

"Your heart's about to beat its way out of your chest."

Damn fae hearing.

He leaned back just enough for me to see that devastating grin, those molten-silver eyes gleaming like they knew every secret I'd ever tried to bury.