CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #2
Something in me finally faltered. Not because of the cold or the exhaustion, but because he simply refused to let me fall apart.
“You’re okay,” he said, his tone steady and absolutely certain. “I’ve got you.”
The flames dancing around my hands flickered, weakened—and finally died.
Ash drifted down to the damp grass, grey and lifeless.
I sagged against him, my body trembling so violently it felt like my muscles were finally remembering how exhausted they truly were.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
The mist swirled around our ankles, and the silence of the field was no longer terrifying—it was just quiet.
Then Ezra’s hands slid to my shoulders, pushing me back just enough to look at me properly.
His fingers were calloused and warm, a physical tether to the present.
“Ava—look at me.”
His voice was sharp enough to cut through the grey fog clinging to my thoughts. He reached up, his hands framing my face and forcing my gaze to meet his.
“You need to learn how to live without him,” he said quietly, the words sounding rough, as if they cost him something to say.
Tears blurred my vision, hot and relentless.
“What if I can’t?” I whispered, the fear finally given a voice. “What if there's nothing left when the fire goes out?”
“Then you fight anyway. You fight the silence until you find your own voice again.”
His voice dropped lower, thick with a conviction that made my chest ache. “You are Zymarra’s flame, Hotshot. Queen or not, you’re the strongest fucking person I’ve ever known.”
His thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender for someone who looked like he wanted to punch the world.
“You could burn kingdoms to the ground, Ava. Don't let yourself be the first one to turn to ash.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. The mist curled around the field, the grass still damp beneath our boots, and the last traces of manic heat finally faded from my skin.
Ezra studied me with an intensity that suggested he was making sure I wouldn’t spontaneously explode again.
I noticed the way the morning light caught the dusting of freckles over his arms and the few scattered across his cheeks.
Then, his mouth twitched.
“Well,” he said finally, stepping back and rolling his shoulders with an effortless grace. “That was fun.”
I blinked at him, my brain struggling to keep up. “Fun?” I croaked, my voice still raw from the screaming.
“Yeah,” he said casually, reaching for his shirt. “You only tried to incinerate me six times. That’s actually an improvement from last night. Progress, Pyreson.”
A reluctant, jagged laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
“There she is,” Ezra said, pointing at me with a triumphant look. “I knew you were still in there.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, smearing soot and sweat. “You’re insufferable, Valeor.”
“And yet,” he said, his voice dripping with smugness, “I’m still alive. Barely.”
Right then, a fiery streak tore across the dawn sky above the training field. Ezra barely had time to glance up before—
BOOM.
A fireball exploded into the dirt between us. Earth and embers sprayed everywhere, stinging my shins.
“WHAT,” Ember’s voice snapped from across the field, “are you two idiots doing at five in the morning?!”
We both turned. Ember was standing at the edge of the sparring grounds in her sleep shorts, hair a wild, tangled halo.
The light from the flames curling around her fingers highlighted the faint freckles on her cheeks—not as many as Ezra, but enough to make her look deceptively soft in her fury.
Ezra’s grin widened. “Morning, sunshine. You’re late for the party.”
Another fireball sparked in Ember’s palm. “Oh, I am going to kill you. Slowly.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“See?” Ezra said casually beside me, completely unbothered. “Now that is a normal morning.”
“Oh, good,” Ember said darkly, stalking toward us. “You’re both awake. You can hear me properly while I end you.”
Before I could even think to mediate, Ezra suddenly bolted toward her.
“Ezra—!” Ember snapped, her eyes widening.
Too late.
He reached her in two strides, snagged her around the waist, and lifted her clean off the ground, spinning her in a fast, dizzying circle.
“VALEOR! PUT ME DOWN!” she shrieked, swatting at his shoulders with her unlit hand while the other still flickered with fire.
Ezra just laughed, his chest vibrating against hers, before finally setting her back on her feet. He didn't let go of her waist, though. He kept her anchored close.
“You look absolutely fucking cute when you’re trying to commit homicide,” he said, his eyes blazing with a heat that had nothing to do with magic.
My face twisted in a grimace. “Ew. Too much. Right here.”
Ember’s mouth tilted into a slow, dangerous, and entirely too-knowing smile. “Oh?” she said sweetly, her fingers trailing up his chest to his collarbone. “Well… in that case, do you wanna come help me shower?”
Ezra’s grin turned wicked.
“Wow,” I muttered, turning away and rubbing my face. “I’m seriously a fucking third wheel right now. This is my life.”
“Oh, come on, Hotshot!” Ezra called out behind me, his voice full of that effortless, irritating charm. “You’re going to have a blast with me around for the next two weeks. I’m excellent company!”
I turned back just to flip them both off, the gesture a reflex. But the movement stalled halfway.
Because Ezra had somehow hoisted Ember onto his back, carrying her across the damp field while she smacked at his freckled shoulders and pretended to complain.
“What the fuck,” I muttered, though the corner of my mouth quirked up.
Ember looked… happy. Truly, recklessly happy.
And I had never been more relieved that it was Ezra—steady, infuriating Ezra—who had been the one to finally get past her guard.
My chest tightened, a familiar ache blooming.
Gods. I missed Asher.
Aether’s voice slid through the bond, sounding unimpressed. “Pathetic.”
I huffed a small laugh under my breath, shaking my head. “You’re one to talk. You've been moping all morning.”
“Watching those two is making me reconsider my low opinion of fae courtship,” he added dryly, though I could feel his tail lashing in my mind.
I smiled faintly, but it faded almost as quickly as it came. “You’ve been quiet today,” I murmured.
Aether didn’t answer right away.
The silence stretched between us, and suddenly, the weight of it changed. I understood.
Zya was gone too.
The four-way bond that usually hummed between us—Aether, Zya, Asher, and me—felt hollowed out.
Like someone had ripped a vital thread out of the weave, leaving the edges frayed and cold.
My chest tightened again, the realization of his absence hitting me in a fresh wave.
“Yeah,” I said softly, my voice barely a whisper. “I miss them too.”
This time Aether still didn’t respond. But the quiet felt different now. Not empty, just heavy with a shared, feline sorrow.
Maybe Ezra was right.
Maybe I needed to learn how to exist without him around for a while. Not to rely on him for every breath.
Maybe these two weeks would teach me that loving a shadow didn't mean I had to disappear inside one.
I smiled despite the hollow ache, lifted my chin, and drew the sharp morning air into my lungs. Then I turned toward House Ignis, preparing myself for what was shaping up to be a truly dreadful day of classes and recovery.
Behind me, Ezra shouted something about Ember trying to actually choke him to death.
Ember’s reply involved several creative threats, a string of curses, and a small, bright burst of fire that singed the air.
I didn’t bother turning around. For once, the chaos at my back was almost comforting. It was loud, it was messy, and it was alive.
Even if the bond in my chest still felt far, far too quiet.