Page 20 of House Ignis

"I don't bite," he added, his voice dropping to a silken shadow, "unless you want me to."

Heat surged up my throat, thick and heavy. I wanted to look away, to shove him back and reclaim my space, but instead, I forced a smirk and tilted my chin.

"You wouldn't be able to handle this."

His laugh rumbled through me—low, rich, and vibrating against my ribs. It shook something loose in my chest that had been locked tight since Jax.

He tipped his head back as he laughed; gods, that sound. I hated how effortlessly it set me alight.

"You're dangerous, Firecracker," he said, tugging me closer until there wasn't a breath of air between us.

My hands had already found the line of his neck, my fingers curling against his warm skin before I even realized I'd moved.

My own flame flickered restlessly at my fingertips, aching to break free and meet his shadows.

From the edge of the dance floor, I heard Ember whoop like she'd just scored the winning point in Riftball, her eyes bright with triumph.

And me? I was burning alive in Asher Maddox's arms, and I hated how much I didn't want him to let go.

"So, Firecracker…" His voice was a low tease, every syllable weighed. "What's your deal?"

I arched a brow, wrapping myself in sarcasm like a suit of armor. "Other than being the gods-damned heir and having every male in this hall staring at me like I'm prey? I'm usually the quiet type."

He laughed again—that low, rich thunder that seemed to roll right through my defenses.

"I highly doubt you're quiet," Asher murmured, his grin sharpening into something lethal.

I forced my voice out, making it sharper than I actually felt. "And what's your deal?"

"Mmm." His smirk deepened, a dark, knowing thing. "Darling, I'm not the kind type. And I'm certainly not the quiet type."

He shifted suddenly, hauling me closer until my chest was crushed against his, then caught my hand and dipped me low with effortless, terrifying strength.

The world spun. My leg slipped free through the high slit of my gown, and his hand moved, his palm firm and searing against my bare thigh.

Gasps rippled through the surrounding crowd, but I didn't have the air to look at them.

All I could see were those merciless silver eyes tracking the line of my throat. My lips parted, desperate for air, for control—for anything to steady the ground beneath me.

Then he drew me upright in a single, fluid motion, my leg still hooked shamelessly against his hip.

He didn't let go. His mouth brushed the shell of my ear, his grin cutting deep enough to show those impossible dimples.

"Then what are you?" I breathed, the words barely a whisper.

"Your darkest desire," he whispered back.

My flames surged in response—a wild, white-hot roar racing through my veins, clawing to break free and consume him.

I bit them back, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I held on with everything I had left.

"Ava?"

The voice broke the spell, pulling me back from the precipice of his gaze.

I whipped my head to the side, and there he was—Jeremy, his emerald eyes slicing through the air, his jaw locked.

I could feel a slight, rhythmic tremor under my feet; he was barely keeping the ground beneath us from cracking.