Page 227 of House Ignis

By the time we met up with the rest of the squad, it was obvious—no one knew what the fuck to say to me.

Their eyes flicked toward me, mouths twitching, a heavy, suffocating silence hanging in the air. Inside me, the bond was just as quiet.

So I said it for them. Flat. No emotion. “Asher’s suspended. Sent back to Umbra for two weeks.”

The words felt like they were clawing my throat raw. My heart clenched as if someone had shoved a cold fist into my chest and twisted.

“And Jeremy?” someone asked carefully, their voice barely above a whisper.

I shrugged, the movement sharp and bitter. “Back to Eldrethine. His father’s probably cursing his name as we speak.”

They didn’t need to know how much it gutted me. How much I already missed the silver in Asher's eyes.

How I kept subconsciously clawing at the bond only to find a hollow, freezing void.

Empty.

Gods, I hoped he felt it too. I needed him to feel the same unmaking I was experiencing.

The day dragged after that—class after class blurring into a smudge of ink and stone.

Drills battered what little energy I had left, and the whispers dug deeper than any practice blade.

At least Ezra and Ember stayed close. My unwilling babysitters.

My very loud, very freckled pity party hosts.

Ezra kept tossing me that shit-eating grin, trying to crack me open. Sometimes it even worked.

He was a massive douche, really—loud, cocky, and far too smug for his own good.

But he was loyal as fuck.

To Ember.

To me.

Most of the time he followed Ember around like some overgrown, lethal puppy.

By midafternoon, my chest actually ached from holding everything in. And then I remembered Jules.

She’d been waiting for me in the archives to study.

One thing that still felt normal.

Ember peeled off toward her own study group, squeezing my arm before leaving. “See you later,” she said, her eyes lingering on mine for a second too long.

Which meant I was stuck with Ezra.

“I need to go study,” I told him. “With Jules.”

“Go,” he ordered casually, already turning toward the fields for riftball practice.

He glanced back at me over his shoulder, smirking like a smug older brother. “Two hours. I’ll pick you up. Don't wander off, Hotshot.”

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly stuck. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah.” His grin widened, the freckles on his cheeks crinkling. “You love me.”