Page 261 of House Ignis

“Stand down!”

My voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Every instinct screamed that if this escalated here—tonight, in the heart of Solkaris—it would become something much bigger than a drunken court brawl.

It would become a conflict between kingdoms.

My gaze snapped toward the dais. My father was watching, but he wasn't angry.

He was grinning. Beside him, Queen Sailene’s violet eyes shimmered with wicked amusement, as if she were watching a particularly entertaining play.

Then my father lifted one lazy hand. The music resumed instantly—a royal decree without a single word spoken.

Get back to whatever the fuck you were doing.

The guards hesitated, looking between their king and the Umbra prince, before slowly retreating.

Around us, the nobles began breathing again, their hushed whispers filling the void as they pretended none of it had ever happened.

Ezra calmly straightened his jacket, brushing off an invisible speck of dust as if he hadn’t just punched the Crown Prince of Umbra in the face. Then he turned and looked straight at Ember. She was still stunned, her green eyes wide and her lips parted.

“Dance with me,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t quite a plea.

It was something far more dangerous. He held out his hand, his sunset-orange eyes locked onto hers.

Ember’s gaze flicked to me, then to Kieran, then back to Ezra. A thousand thoughts passed across her face in a single heartbeat—walls, fear, desire, war. Then she smiled wickedly, the fire returning to her eyes.

“Of course.”

Ezra didn’t even look at Kieran again.

He simply swept her onto the dance floor like she already belonged there. I watched them go—flame and shadow moving together through the crowd like they were born from the same storm. Chaos. Perfection. Utterly, terrifyingly dangerous. My chest tightened for reasons I refused to examine.

“Hm,” Kieran murmured beside me, amusement curling through his voice as he lifted his glass.

“Must have hit a nerve.” He smiled over the rim, eyes glittering with cruel satisfaction, then tipped the drink back and melted into the sea of nobles without another word.

I rolled my eyes hard enough to hurt and forced my attention away from the dance floor.

Unfortunately, my stomach chose that exact moment to betray me with an embarrassingly loud growl. Well. Food it was.

I spun toward the banquet tables—and walked straight into something solid.

“Oh gods—sorry,” I blurted, my wine sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass.

Strong hands closed around my arms before I could stumble. Steady. Warm. Unmoving.

I looked up, and the words died in my throat. His eyes were unlike anything I had ever seen—a beautiful, fascinatingly stunning pale blue. I had never seen eyes that light in the Umbra court. They pinned me in place.

His hair was a mess of short, pale-gold strands, a few pieces falling carelessly across his brow.

He was tall, standing at the same height as Asher, but built differently—leaner, lithe, and dangerous.

His soft olive skin was shaded by a light dusting of stubble, and his jawline was sharp.

He was dressed in an all-black suit that seemed to match the shadows trailing behind him, dark and sentient, coiling with the same eerie familiarity as Asher’s.

His grin followed a second later, cocky and devastating, dimples carving perfectly into his cheeks.