CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sunlight filtered through the window, dragging me reluctantly out of the only peace I’d had in days.
I groaned and tried to bury myself deeper into the pillow—until a shadow cut across the light, cold and deliberate.
My eyes cracked open.
Sunset-orange eyes were far too close to my face.
I shot upright with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Ezra Valeor stood there like he owned the room—already fully awake, dressed in training shorts and a black Umbra T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders.
His auburn hair was actually brushed for once. He looked completely energized.
Completely insufferable.
Havoc and Ruin, the twin heads of Ezra’s massive bloodhound, watched from the foot of the bed, four ears pricking up the second I moved.
“Good morning, Sparky,” he drawled.
I blinked at him, then blearily at the clock on my bedside table.
Five. Five in the godsdamn morning.
“What the actual fuck, Ezra,” I muttered, the weight of the empty bond hitting me all over again.
I collapsed back into the pillow with a miserable groan.
“Come on, don’t be pouty, princess.”
“I am not pouting,” I muffled into the fabric.
“I am simply mourning.”
“He isn’t dead, Ava.”
Ezra took a slow sip from one of the two coffees in his hands, his smirk firmly in place.
“Well, he might as well be,” I snapped, my voice muffled. “Because that will be his state when he finally comes back to me.”
Before I could launch into a full tirade about the unfairness of the universe, Ruin head suddenly lunged forward.
A massive hellhound snout shoved straight into my face.
“Gods—!” I yelped as a wet, heavy tongue dragged across my cheek.
Havoc immediately joined in, licking the other side of my face with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for fresh meat.
“Ezra!” I shrieked, flailing as the two-headed menace climbed halfway onto the mattress.
Ezra leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee like this was the best entertainment he’d had all week. “Look at that,” he said lazily. “They really do like you.”
“They’re trying to drown me in saliva!”
Ruin’s tail thumped happily against the bed frame, the vibration rattling my teeth, while Havoc nudged my shoulder with a heavy, insistent snout.
“Control your demon dogs, Valeor!”
Ezra only grinned wider, his orange eyes glinting. “They are under control. They’re just showing affection.”
Ruin licked my chin again for good measure.
I groaned and collapsed back, defeated.
“I hate all of you. Every single one of you.”
Ruin gave my cheek one last proud lick before both heads settled beside me on the covers, a low, satisfied rumble rolling through their massive chests.
I cracked one eye open to find Ezra watching me, his expression softening just a fraction.
“Why,” I asked hoarsely, “are we awake at this ungodly hour?”
Ezra pushed himself off the wall and walked closer, still holding two steaming cups. “Training.”
I stared at him. Then, very slowly, I closed my eyes again. “Fuck no.”
“Fuck yes, princess.”
I didn't move. “Go ask Ember,” I muttered. “She’s the fire wielder with the energy.”
Ezra snorted. “Firstly, I did.”
My eye cracked open again. “And?”
He took another sip of his coffee, looking far too amused with his own misfortune. “I got a fireball nearly singeing my eyebrows off. She’s still buried under her duvet, threatening to murder me.”
Despite the hollow ache in my chest, a small smile tugged at my mouth. Ember did not appreciate being woken before sunrise, and she was much more literal with her threats than I was.
Ruin huffed beside me as if he’d been there for the encounter and agreed with Ezra's assessment.
I rolled slightly onto my back and squinted up at the Umbra male.
“And why exactly won’t I throw a fireball at you? Give me one good reason.”
His grin turned wicked. “Well,” he said, lowering the second cup toward me, “I got you butterscotch first.”
I blinked. My favorite.
“Peace offering,” he added.
The smell hit me then—warm coffee and sweet, buttery caramel.
I snatched the cup from his hand and inhaled the scent like it might actually be the thing to save my life.
Ezra leaned a little closer, his orange eyes glowing like a rising sun. “Also,” he added, his voice dropping to a lower, steadier register, “I figured—princess—what better way to get all that anger out… than on me?”
I snorted into the cup, the heat of the coffee warming my palms. “Careful what you offer, Ezra,” I muttered, taking a long, reviving sip.
Despite the silence in my head, the shadow at my side felt a little less heavy.
The thought of burning off some of this suffocating rage on the training mats wasn’t... terrible.
“Not a bad idea,” I admitted, my lips curving.
Ezra’s grin widened, sharp and knowing. “Get dressed, Hotshot. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
···
The dew clung to the blades of grass like tiny diamonds, and mist curled low to the ground as we walked out to the sparring field behind House Ignis.
The place was deserted—far too early for anyone with a shred of sanity to be awake.
Ezra rolled his shoulders, loose and ready, while I dragged my feet behind him, nursing the last of my butterscotch coffee as if it were the only thing tethering me to the earth.
“You look thrilled,” he teased, tossing his black shirt onto the fence.
“I hate you,” I muttered, setting my cup down on a nearby bench with a hollow clink.
“Good.” He began to stretch, his muscles flexing in a way that proved he knew exactly how annoyingly impressive he looked in the dawn light. “Anger makes you faster. Use it.”
I groaned, pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail. “You’re unbearable, Valeor.”
“And you’re stalling, Hotshot,” he shot back, flashing me an infuriating grin.
Gods, he was too smug.
We squared off, our breath misting in the air. His stance was relaxed, almost lazy—but I knew better.
“First to pin?” I asked, fire already sparking at the tips of my fingers, mirroring the restless energy in my chest.
His grin turned wicked. “You won’t last a minute.”
My chest tightened.
That cocky smirk—it was the same kind of expression Asher wore when he was about to ruin me.
The thought made something in me flare white-hot.
Anger, grief, and a desperate, suffocating need for the man who wasn't there.
I lunged.
Fire roared from my palm in a jagged whip.
Ezra met it with shadows, smooth and sure. He moved like smoke, twisting around the flames and catching me off balance.
He snagged my wrist, spun me, and sent me skidding across the damp, slick grass.
“Too slow,” he taunted, his voice a low vibration.
Heat surged through me—real, blinding heat. I came at him harder,
flames spilling out in violent streaks of red and gold.
I reached for the bond, desperate for that familiar surge of power—
Except the echo that slammed back into me wasn't the one I expected. It was steady.
Fierce. Unyieldingly protective.
It rattled me to my core. My knees faltered, my chest seizing as something inside me pulled in the wrong direction, tugging at a cord I hadn't known existed.
I stumbled, clutching at the ache in my ribs.
Ezra was already there, his shadows curling low around his boots. His jaw flexed, his orange eyes searching mine.
“Let’s stop. You're flagging.”
“No.” My voice snapped sharper than my fire. “Again.”
“Ava—”
“Again!” I shouted, flames bursting hotter, desperate and wild.
Ezra’s mouth tightened into a grim line, but he stepped back into his stance.
Shadows swirled at his fists—perfectly controlled where mine were pure, unadulterated chaos.
I launched at him again, fire slashing through the air in blazing arcs that hissed against the morning mist.
My lungs burned.
My skin felt like it was blistering from the inside out. But I didn’t care.
All I saw behind my eyelids were silver eyes. A wicked, shadow-drenched grin. Shadows gone feral on a blood-stained field.
Jeremy on his knees.
Blood pouring into the dirt. And me—too late to stop any of it.
The memory broke something loose inside me, a dam finally giving way.
I screamed as I hurled a massive wave of flame, the sound ripping from my throat, raw and ugly.
Ezra blocked and countered, his shadows wrapping around the fire and smothering it before it could bite.
He moved with a measured precision, each strike calculated to disarm rather than hurt.
Where he was a mountain, I was a landslide. Wild. Desperate. Tearing myself apart from the inside out just to feel something other than the silence.
“Again!” I gasped, stumbling back to my feet, the fire eating through my reserves.
His jaw clenched, his eyes tracking the frantic rise and fall of my chest. He didn't move.
He just watched me, a wall of sunset and shadow that refused to let me break myself against him.
“Ava—”
“I said AGAIN!”
I lunged, desperate to lose myself in the heat, to drown out the silence with the roar of my own power. Fire tore from my hands in a jagged, blinding arc—
But my knees buckled.
The blast went wide, scorching the damp earth and sending up a cloud of bitter steam.
I would have hit the dirt face-first if arms like iron hadn’t caught me mid-fall, hauling me back against his chest.
“Enough!” Ezra’s voice thundered, vibrating through my very bones.
Shadows whipped out from him like a living shroud, smothering the remnants of my flames before they could consume me.
I struggled against him, my chest heaving, heavy sobs finally breaking loose and shattering the morning quiet.
“No—I can’t stop—I can’t let it be this quiet—”
His grip only tightened, anchoring me against him until I had no choice but to feel the steady, rhythmic thud of his heart.
“Breathe, Ava,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. “You’re burning yourself alive just to feel a spark. Stop.”
My fire sputtered wildly, dying sparks snapping and hissing in the cold air. I sucked in a shaky, shallow breath, but the panic clawing through my chest refused to ease its grip.
Ezra shifted his hold, one warm hand settling against the small of my back.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to the thunder of a moment ago. “Look at me.”