Page 329 of House Ignis

I felt his tongue trace the blood on my lip before he tasted it, before he tasted me.

A low, vibrating growl rumbled deep in his chest—a sound that wasn't human, a sound that belonged to the shadows of the deep world.

The Woods narrowed to that single point of contact: blood, heat, and the faint tremor running through his massive frame.

I felt his hunger, sharp and aching, bleeding through the bond until it tangled with my own until I couldn't tell where my fire ended and his darkness began.

Then, suddenly, he tore himself back.

His chest heaved and his eyes were still black as ink, his hands fisted at his sides as if he were physically fighting something inside him.

“Gods,” he rasped, his voice raw and almost broken. “You—” He stopped, swallowed hard, and forced a breath through clenched teeth. The shadows clinging to his shoulders flickered violently, then died.

I touched my lip, the skin still tingling from his touch.

I could feel it through the bond—the sheer intensity of his need, his craving, the wild pulse of something dark and ancient clawing at the surface of his soul. It called to me. Gods help me, I wanted more.

He exhaled hard, forcing his gaze away from my mouth. “We need to move,” he rasped, his voice raw, almost guttural. “Now, darling. Before I forget what we came here for.”

He turned sharply, already stalking forward toward the south, the shadows coiling around his boots like thick, oily smoke.

I followed him, my heart slamming against my ribs and my pulse still echoing with the metallic taste of him. The Veylaith Woods pressed close, silent and watching, and all I could think was that I wasn't sure which would devour me first—the forest or the male leading me through it.

•••

The forest stretched endlessly ahead, but I could feel the change—the faint, rhythmic hum beneath the ground, the pull of the radius tightening like a noose. Every hour, the magic would constrict, driving us all closer together until there was nowhere left to hide.

Aether padded ahead, his black, flame-tipped tail flicking. “The circle’s moving again,”he murmured through the bond. “North line’s collapsing. We’ve got maybe twenty minutes before it presses in another mile.”

"Perfect," Asher muttered, scanning the treeline with eyes that didn't miss a single shadow. "That’ll drive the others toward us."

His voice was steadier now, but the edge was still there—that barely contained hunger he thought I didn’t notice.

The same hunger that made my heart beat too fast whenever he looked at me.

We walked in silence for a while, the moss soft beneath our boots, the air humming with distant magic. Then Asher said quietly,

"When this is over…"

I glanced at him, my fire flickering low in my palms. "When what’s over?"

"The Trials," he said, eyes fixed forward. "The Academy. The crowns. All of it." His tone was lighter, but there was something behind it—something fragile. "When we’re free of all this, I want to see the other kingdoms. The cliffs of Zephyrion. The coral palaces of Tideris. Take you anywhere that isn’t burning or bleeding."

A soft laugh escaped me, the sound echoing strangely in the ancient woods. "You planning a vacation or an escape?"

"Both," he said with a grin. Then, lower. "You deserve something real. Something that’s ours."

I looked at him—the gleam of silver in his eyes, the small, rare curve of his mouth—and gods, I believed him. For a moment, it was easy to imagine a life beyond all this.

Then the ground snapped.

The world tilted—a shimmer of runes erupted beneath our feet—and before I could shout, the air was sucked out of my lungs. A blur of light, and suddenly we were hanging upside down, suspended in a web of glowing, magical vines.

"Asher!" I gasped, struggling against the constriction as the blood rushed to my head.

He twisted midair, his eyes flashing with sudden, lethal intent. "Trap spell," he growled. "Clever bastards."

Laughter echoed through the trees. Two figures emerged from the brush—a Fire wielder and an Earth wielder, both smug, both armed.