Page 47 of House Ignis

I burst out laughing. "Oh my gods. She had a boyfriend."

Asher chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. "That's Darcy. Or Umbra in general."

"So…" I teased, stepping closer. My heart hammered against my ribs as his dark, intoxicating scent curled around me. "You just take whoever you want?"

He set his drink down. The shift was instant. His expression sharpened, eyes darkening as he leaned in until his breath brushed my ear.

"Yes," he said quietly. Then, slower. Deliberate. "Especially when you know what you want."

My pulse went feral, heat blooming in places that made my knees weak.

And then, a voice sliced clean through the murmur of the bar like a frozen blade.

"Get the fuck away from her, Maddox."

I jumped, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. Jeremy stood a few feet away, his face a mask of cold, hard fury.

His hands were curled into white-knuckled fists, and the air around him seemed to drop ten degrees.

Asher didn't move.

He didn't even flinch. He just turned his head slowly, that lazy, lethal smirk returning to his lips as he met Jeremy's gaze.

"The Prince returns," Asher drawled, his voice dripping with mock boredom. "You're late to the party, Eldrethine. We were just getting to the good part."

I jolted, sloshing half my water down the front of my skirt as Jeremy wrapped a firm arm around me, hauling me against his chest.

"Jeremy—I—" I started, my voice failing.

"She's fine, Maddox." The words were clipped. Feral.

Jeremy's eyes burned, power simmering just beneath the surface. His earthy scent—usually moss and earth—had sharpened into something wild and intoxicating.

My head spun, the sapphire liquor and the sudden confrontation making the world tilt.

I looked at Asher. He hadn't moved. That cocky grin still curved his mouth, silver eyes cool and amused—like this was a game he'd already won.

Jeremy's voice dropped to a low growl. "Back off."

For a heartbeat, I thought Asher might push it. Instead, he lifted a hand in mock surrender, his smirk deepening.

"Relax," he drawled lightly. Then he turned and vanished into the crowd, Zya following like a ripple of violet shadow.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Jeremy held me tight—protective, tense, his energy shifting the air around us until it felt heavy. It was too much. Too fast.

My stomach rolled. Hard.

Jeremy's fingers tightened around mine. "You okay?" he murmured, his voice softening but still coiled with intensity.

"I…" I swallowed, pressing a hand to my stomach. "I feel sick."

The change in him was instant. The warrior vanished, and the gentle, steady Jer took his place.

"Hey," he said softly, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. "Okay. I've got you."

I leaned into him, dizzy and conflicted.

"Come on," he said quietly, grabbing my water and guiding me toward the exit.