Page 241 of House Ignis

Thin lines of blood seeped through the torn black fabric, but Ezra didn’t complain.

In fact, he looked far too entertained by the indignity of it all.

Aether’s golden eyes snapped back to me, pure murderous betrayal blazing through the link. “You swore I would be fine.”

“You are fine,” I shot back sweetly, though my own stomach did a little somersault as we climbed higher.

He bared his teeth at me. “If I fall,” he informed me—and everyone within earshot—calmly, “I will drag you down with me.”

Behind me, Ember wheezed, her hand clutching her stomach.

Ryven had both hands over his mouth, shoulders shaking, while Maddy was openly crying from laughter.

The wind rushed around us as the staircase glided higher, the courtyard shrinking below until the students were toy-sized figures and the banners were mere ribbons in the breeze.

Aether tightened his grip on Ezra. Another hiss of fabric tearing. Another fresh trickle of red.

Ezra glanced back at me over his shoulder, his dimples fully deployed despite the claws currently embedded in his back.

“Your cat is very affectionate, Hotshot.”

“He’s plotting your slow and painful death,” I informed him.

“Worth it.”

Finally—finally—the staircase aligned with the floating dome.

Ezra stepped off onto the solid crystal flooring, and the moment his boots hit steady ground, he turned carefully, patting Aether’s massive, trembling shoulder.

“Okay, buddy,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re safe. Solid ground.”

Aether did not move. Not even slightly.

“Tell him he can put me down,” Aether muttered stiffly through the bond.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my face neutral. “He says… you can put him down now.”

Ezra nodded solemnly, as if he were handling sacred, explosive cargo, and slowly lowered the enormous panther onto the floor.

Aether landed with the stiff, forced grace of someone who absolutely had not just spent five minutes clinging to a man like a terrified kitten.

He stood frozen for a second, every hair along his spine flaring outward. Tail rigid. Eyes wide.

Then—very deliberately—he sat. He flicked his tail once, looking around as if this had all gone exactly according to his majestic plan.

Ruin and Havoc immediately bounded forward, the bloodhound’s massive tail wagging like a propeller, and began enthusiastically licking his face.

Aether recoiled in horror, his paws scrambling uselessly.

“What—stop—cease this foulness!” His head jerked back, his ears flattening as two sets of hellhound tongues assaulted his dignity.

“We do not ever speak of this,” he murmured darkly to me.

I lost it. Full, hysterical laughter exploded out of me, the first real spark of joy I’d felt since the world turned grey.

“Hey—guys, over here!”

I turned toward the voice.