Page 204 of House Ignis

I whispered back, my mental voice trembling but unbroken.

"And as long as fire burns, I am yours."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The crowd was already a thick, restless sea in the bleachers, anticipation crackling through the air like static.

My heart pounded so hard I could feel the thud of it in my teeth.

The alcohol haze from the tent was long gone, replaced by a cold, sharpening dread. Utter, fucking dread.

"You undermine the Darkling," Aether muttered beside me.

He padded close, his golden eyes narrowing into slits as he surveyed the field.

I had practically begged him for moral support, and he'd come, though his feline pride made him act like he was doing me a grand favor. Across the pitch, Zya was already watching Asher, poised and tense like a coiled spring.

I couldn't sit. I paced the sidelines, my hands trembling, eyes glued to the shadowed figure already waiting at center field.

Asher stood in the half-light, shoulders loose, grin lethal, looking every bit the prince of the void. His scent reached me even through the damp air: smoke, steel, and shadow.

"Hey."

Ezra's voice came from my side, softer than the chaos around us. Before I could turn, he draped his heavy jacket over my shoulders and pressed a steaming cup into my hands.

His scent washed over me too—not the ruin and smoke of Asher's shadows, but something else entirely.

Spice and citrus, sun-warmed heat, like the very edge of summer before the clouds roll in. It didn't consume; it steadied, wrapping me in a warmth I hadn't realized I needed.

I blinked at him, then managed a faint, tired smile. "Thank you."

"Drink it," he said simply, his sunset-orange eyes fixed on the field.

I lifted the cup, inhaling the steam. My eyes widened. "Is this… butterscotch?"

His mouth tilted in a crooked grin. "Yeah. You carry on about it enough between classes. Figured you needed the sugar hit."

A small laugh escaped me, weak but real. "Didn't think you were listening."

"It's hard not to listen with Ember yapping over you half the time," he teased, taking a sip of his own coffee.

That made me laugh for real, the tension breaking for one blissful breath.

"You don't have to keep me company, Ezra," I murmured, pulling the oversized jacket tighter around my frame.

"I know. But Asher would kill me if I didn't," he said dryly, his expression softening as he looked at me. "And besides—I wanted to."

I finally looked at him properly.

His auburn hair was mussed by the wind, an easy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, but those eyes… gods.

They were like embers still smoldering in a bed of ash. He was beautiful in a way that felt grounded and safe.

"And… you stood up for me earlier," I said quietly, the memory of him facing down Jeremy in the tent flickering in my mind. "That meant more than you know."

He nodded once, his gaze shifting back to Asher. “Yeah, well. You chose him. But I respect you just as much as I respect him.”

My throat caught.