Page 51 of House Ignis

He glanced toward the window, the reality of the Academy's schedule settling in. "I've got training this morning."

My heart dipped, but I managed a nod. He kissed my cheek, stood, and snagged his shirt from the chair.

"See you later?" I asked, my voice small in the suddenly quiet room.

Jeremy paused mid-motion, tugging the fabric over his head. "Always, Princess."

He gave me one last lingering look before whistling softly.

Kora padded to his side, massive and elegant, her green eyes meeting mine with a quiet, feline assessment before they disappeared into the hall.

The door shut, leaving me alone with the scent of moss, and a lingering, beautiful heat.

I flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, burying my face in the pillow.

"You can come in now," I called out.

The door creaked open, and Ember leaned in, her eyes immediately scanning the rumpled sheets and the glaringly empty space beside me. Her lips pursed in theatrical disappointment.

"I'll be honest," she said, stepping fully into the room, "I'm mildly disappointed Daddy Darkness isn't in the bed."

Aether let out a sound so deeply offended it vibrated through the floorboards. "I am surrounded by absolute degenerates."

I ignored the panther's grumbling and chucked a pillow at her. She caught it with a wicked grin.

"So," she drawled, "did he finally give you that life-altering orgasm?"

I shot out of bed like I'd been electrocuted.

"I'm going to kill you!"

She squeaked and scrambled backward.

"Yikes!"

I paused, a slow smirk spreading across my face despite my burning cheeks. "...But yes. He absolutely did."

I strolled toward the bathroom, chin lifted with all the dignity of royalty reclaiming her throne.

Behind me, Ember's triumphant voice rang out: "OH! I am officially Team Jeremy!"

I laughed and shut the door, the warmth of the memory still buzzing through me.

"Chaos. Every single one of you," Aether muttered, sounding deeply resigned to his fate.

After I'd showered and spilled the full story—Jeremy, Asher, and the friction between them—Ember's jaw quite literally hit the floor.

"I'm sorry," she shrieked, cradling a latte like it was emotional support. "You what?" She looked like she was witnessing a scandalous romance novel unfold in real time.

As it turned out, she'd been so spectacularly wasted that Ezra had ended up carrying her back to bed.

Ember—who usually leaves males high and dry or vanishes before the sun rises—was completely thrown by the experience.

She launched into a rant about how unfairly, criminally hot he was, recounting an intense makeout session where she'd decided "restraint was a social construct" and confidently asked for sex. Ezra, to his eternal credit and her everlasting humiliation, had turned her down because she was too drunk to be making those kinds of decisions.

Ember buried her face in a cushion, groaning. "I have never been rejected in my life. And now I have to see him again. Sober."

I patted her shoulder, being deeply unhelpful. "That's character development, Em."