Page 230 of House Ignis

The admission slipped in before I could stop it. I missed the weight of Asher’s arm slung over my waist at night.

I missed the rough warmth of his mouth against my neck. I missed the way he breathed—steady and grounding—like the world couldn’t possibly end while he was beside me.

My chest tightened. I rolled onto my side and buried my face deeper into the pillow.

Gods, get a grip.

A quiet presence settled beside the mattress. I cracked one eye open. Aether’s massive golden eyes stared straight back at me. His huge head was level with the bed, whiskers twitching slightly, as if he’d been standing there silently evaluating my life choices for several minutes.

“What?” I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow.

His ears flicked. “I merely wished to confirm you were not dying,” he said stiffly through the bond.

I huffed out a weak laugh. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced.

The silence stretched between us, heavier than usual. He'd been quiet all day. Too quiet. Because Zya was gone too. Asher's absence had hollowed something out between us, and somewhere beyond it was the faint impression of another missing presence. Another thread that should have been there.

I shifted over, making room beside me, and lifted my arm in invitation.

“Well?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know,” he replied dryly, “you are allowed to verbally request comfort like a functioning adult.”

“I am requesting,” I murmured, already half-melting into the sheets.

He sighed like this was the greatest burden he’d ever carried, then jumped onto the bed anyway.

The mattress dipped heavily beneath his massive weight as he turned twice—precise and particular—before collapsing beside me with a low grunt.

His heavy head flopped across my outstretched arm. I curled my other arm into his fur, pressing my face against the warm silk of his coat.

A deep purr began to rumble through him, a low-frequency thrum that vibrated straight into my bones.

Something inside me finally unclenched.

“I missed this,” I whispered.

“Do not make a habit of it,” he murmured, though he didn't pull away.

I smiled faintly into his coat.

He might look like a divine weapon, might threaten to eat half the Academy before breakfast, and might act like the moodiest creature ever born. But truly? He was just a giant, dramatic baby.

And right now… he was hurting just as much as I was. I tightened my hold on him, and for once, he didn’t complain.

•••

At first, there was only light.

It stretched endlessly in every direction—white, glowing, and deeply wrong in a way I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t safety.

It felt like standing inside a memory that had never belonged to me.

Still, my feet moved. Bare against the smooth, crystalline floor.

Silk whispered around my legs.