Page 41 of House Ignis

No magic, no tricks—just instinct. His stormy eyes tracked every shift of my weight, every tightening of my muscle, as if he were already three moves ahead.

"Please don't let me die," I muttered.

I struck first, a sharp jab toward his ribs. He blocked it effortlessly, his skin feeling like warm stone.

We reset, boots grinding over sand, the air between us charging until it felt ready to snap.

He feinted right, then his fist drove into my gut.

Pain exploded, tearing the air from my lungs. I folded for a fraction of a second, then forced myself to pivot.

My leg snapped upward, my boot catching the sharp line of his jaw.

Blood bloomed along his lower lip. For one heartbeat, I smiled.

Asher wiped the blood with his thumb, his eyes darkening to a dangerous silver. "Hmm," he murmured, his voice a low vibration. "Fiery."

Then he moved—too fast for me to track. He hooked my leg and flipped me hard onto my back. The impact drove the breath from me in a brutal rush. The sky spun, blue and merciless.

I rolled, scrambling upright before he could press the advantage. Fury roared through me, hot and sharp.

I swung left, my fist cracking against his cheek. I didn't hesitate; I drove my knee into his stomach and shoved.

He hit the ground flat on his back, and before thought could catch up to instinct, I was on him.

I pinned his hips with my knees, my hands braced against the heat of his throat. My breath came in ragged gasps, my pulse roaring. His eyes snapped open—molten, gleaming. For one suspended second, the world held its breath.

Then, he tapped the mat.

The arena exploded in a deafening roar of cheers, but I didn't move. My palms were still pressed to his skin, his chest rising and falling beneath my hands.

Solid. Alive. His breath hitched—just once.

"Don't move, darling," he murmured, his voice a low, suggestive scrape down my spine.

The words struck like flame to oil. Heat coiled low in my stomach, sudden and unforgiving.

My body reacted before my mind could stop it—a traitorous, involuntary twitch that made my eyes widen in horror.

The bastard was enjoying it, grinning as if he were the one who had won.

My gaze snapped up.

Across the ring, Jeremy's face was thunderous, his jaw locked tight enough to fracture stone. And there I was, still straddling the male he hated most in the world.

"Class dismissed!" Pyro's voice thundered over the final chime of the academy bell. "Clean the mats. I expect that same aggression on Wednesday."

The arena's tension splintered into a hum of conversation.

He didn't rush to leave; instead, Asher fell into step beside me as we walked toward our friends. Shirtless and gleaming with salt-streaks of dried sweat, every accidental brush of his arm against mine sent a jolt of static through my blood.

"You're a menace, Pyreson," he said, low enough that only I could hear.

"You're the one who tapped out," I shot back, though my heart was anything but steady.

We reached the group, and Ember immediately slung an arm around my neck. "Holy hell, V! I thought you were going to throttle him. Best match of the day."

"Seriously," Maddy added, eyes wide. "I've never seen anyone move that fast against an Umbra wielder."