Page 309 of House Ignis

I couldn't answer. I could only lean into him, my breath coming in shallow hitches as the dark spots in my vision grew.

Aether and Zya paced around us in a tight, protective circle, their low growls warning any remaining monsters to stay back as the drones hovered overhead.

"The rune," I managed to choke out, my hand shaking as I reached toward the pedestal. "Asher... the rune."

He didn't let go of me. He carried me the last few steps, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and terrifying devotion. He pressed my hand onto the glowing red stone.

The world dissolved into white light, leaving the screams and the stone behind.

The white light of the exit rune spat us back onto the cool stone of the recovery bay, but the transition didn't dull the agony.

My knees hit the floor first, the impact jarring through my spine as the cramps intensified, shredding through my abdomen like hot glass.

I couldn't even draw a full breath to scream.

Asher was on me in a second, but he wasn't gentle. He grabbed my upper arms, his grip bruisingly tight as he hauled me upright, forcing me to look at him.

Gods, he was pissed.

His silver eyes weren't just molten; they were a thunderstorm.

The shadows rolling off his shoulders were jagged and violent, snapping at the air like whips.

He didn't know. He couldn't know that the white fire hadn't just drained me; it had triggered whatever the hell had been happening inside my body for years.

To him, I was just being reckless with my core, a "firecracker" throwing around too much heat for a show.

“Don’t,” he hissed, the word a razor-sharp blade as I tried to speak. He leaned in, his face inches from mine.

“You overdraw like that again, Ava, and I will chain you to the floor myself. Do you have any idea how close you came to burning out? You're playing with your life for a damn third-year squad!”

He let go of my arms, turning away to pace the small stone area like a caged predator, his jaw set so hard I thought it might shatter. He was terrified, and it was coming out as pure, unadulterated rage.

But as he turned his back, the temporary scaffolding of the adrenaline completely collapsed.

A fresh wave of pain, sharper and colder than anything before, ripped through my gut.

A fresh wave of pain, sharper and hotter than anything before, ripped through my gut.

I doubled over, my forehead nearly hitting the stone floor as I clutched my stomach, a choked, broken sound escaping my throat.

The bond shrieked.

"Asher..." I whispered, my voice barely a thread of sound, vanishing into the roar of the arena outside.

I looked up through a blur of grey, my vision failing. I saw him freeze. I saw him spin around, his anger vanishing instantly, replaced by a look of such raw, haunting terror that it hurt more than the pain.

He was already moving, lunging back toward me, his hand outstretched as he shouted my name.

But I never heard the rest.

The grey swallowed the silver of his eyes. My muscles went slack, and darkness rushed in to meet me. I felt myself falling, and then—nothing.

•••

The grey slowly receded, replaced by the sharp scent of antiseptic and medicinal herbs. I blinked, my eyelids feeling like lead.

A nurse in a crisp, white uniform leaned over me, her hands cool as she pressed a damp cloth to my forehead.