Page 330 of House Ignis

"Looks like the great Black Flame got sloppy," the Fire wielder sneered, stepping into the small clearing.

Asher’s mouth curved into a feral grin.

"Sloppy? No." His shadows began to stir—alive, hungry, licking at the vines. "Merciful, maybe."

The vines shuddered. Darkness rippled outward like liquid night, slicing through the magical bindings in a single, sharp hiss.

We dropped—I hit the ground in a crouch, fire already flaring in my palms.

The Fire wielder lunged; I met him head-on. The Earth wielder threw a wave of stone spikes, but Asher was already moving—blade flashing, shadow splitting the air like smoke and steel entwined.

The Fire wielder swung wide, flame roaring toward me.

I ducked, rolled, came up with a spin, and slammed my elbow into his jaw. Bone cracked. He reeled back, and I drove a burst of fire into his chest that sent him sprawling.

He staggered upright, rage twisting his face, and hurled another wave of flame toward me. I caught it mid-air, twisting my own magic to meet it—fire against fire, heat crashing in a thunderclap of sparks.

“Asher has the Earth wielder pinned.” Aether rumbled through the bond.

"Ava Pyreson!" the Fire wielder spat, sweat running down his face as he struggled to stay upright.

"In the flesh," I purred, stepping through the haze of smoke and falling ash.

His grin turned feral, his eyes raking over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “You're even more fuckable up close.”

I froze, the flames in my hands flickering. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "You’re—fuckable."

Rage flared, sharp and instant.

"Watch your mouth," I snarled, fire licking up my arms until they were encased in a crimson glow.

He laughed—a low, ugly sound—and that was all it took.

In a blur, Asher was there.

Shadows surged like a localized storm, and the Fire wielder hit the ground hard with Asher’s arm locked around his throat in a crushing grip. The Earth wielder was already down, unconscious and pinned by Zya's weight beside him.

"Would you like to repeat that?" Asher growled, his face mere inches from the male’s.

His eyes were no longer silver; they were voids.

The Fire wielder choked, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Asher's iron forearm.

"Your teammate is down," Asher hissed, his voice a promise of death. "It’s over."

He released him with a violent shove, letting the male drop into the dirt, gasping for air.

"Run."

The wielder didn’t wait—he scrambled toward his fallen partner, hauling him up and vanishing into the dense trees.

Our bands flared again, the chime echoing through the Veylaith Woods. Fifteen left.

We walked for hours, my legs screaming and the forest air turning biting as night bled into the trees.

"Shelter," Asher murmured, his stamina infuriatingly intact.