Page 200 of House Ignis

"You know, if you're looking to mend a broken heart…" Ezra leaned forward, smirking, his sunset-orange eyes gleaming with a cruel mischief. "…you're definitely at the wrong table. Try the losers' lounge."

The air in the tent tightened.

Everyone was watching now—the music seemed to fade into a dull throb as the world narrowed to this circle.

And I knew—gods, I knew—Jeremy hadn't come here to play.

"Enjoying my seconds, are we?" Jeremy drawled, venom dripping from every syllable.

The tent went silent. Two of his teammates stepped up behind him, flanking him like stone sentinels.

My blood boiled. Rage and humiliation clawed through me, sharp enough to choke.

"The fucking nerve," Asher growled through the bond, his shadows twitching with a mind of their own.

But beneath his anger, I felt his reaction to my pain. Jeremy had once been my entire world, and now he'd twisted that history into something ugly.

Asher's jaw ticked. His grip on my thigh tightened almost painfully. A low growl rattled in his chest.

But before Asher could even speak, Ezra shot up from the end of the table.

His chair scraped violently across the ground.

"Say that again, earth prince." His voice was pure, concentrated fire, his eyes glowing with an incandescent heat.

Jeremy's smirk widened, but he didn't back down. He leaned over the table, his green eyes glinting with a suicidal kind of bravery.

"Enough," Asher drawled. His tone was silk over sharpened steel. He didn't even look at Ezra.

“What do you want, Eldrethine?"

Ezra snapped his head toward Asher, fury storming across his features, but Asher lifted a single, commanding hand. It was a gesture of absolute authority.

Ezra froze, seething, but he obeyed. He sat, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth.

Jeremy braced his hands on the table, leaning into the spotlight he'd carved for himself. "The bottle landed on me. My turn to dare."

Asher leaned forward, grinning wickedly, shadows coiling across his shoulders.

He raised his glass and took a slow, deliberate sip, his silver eyes never leaving Jeremy's.

"Well, dare me then," he said lazily. And then—just to twist the knife—he reached up, slid my hair off my shoulder, and pressed a lingering, kiss to the sensitive skin of my neck.

The table went still. The air felt suffocating. The very ground beneath the tent gave a low, warning rumble of earth magic.

Jeremy's grin sharpened into something lethal.

"I dare you to a challenge."

My heart stuttered.

"I love a challenge," Asher mused, his voice smooth and untroubled.

"Asher—" Ezra tried again, but Asher silenced him with a flick of his fingers. Ezra sat back, his fists white-knuckled, his entire body trembling with the effort of restraint.

"What the fuck is happening?" Ember whispered, her eyes wide as she looked between the three of them.

“Asher, no,” I hissed through the bond. “Don't. You don't need to do this. He's just trying to bait you.”